Beyond Armageddon: Book 03 - Parallels

by Anthony DeCosmo

  …Ashley put aside the group shot and examined the second photograph, apparently a still-shot from a video image.

  She held the photo in one hand while her eyes studied it, not so much the image itself, but the understanding it delivered. The answer to her loneliness, to the mystery of Trevor's heart, to the malaise blanketing the life she led with him.

  Ashley barely heard the stumble and clunk-clunk of footsteps as they raced toward her.

  JB, panting, stopped in the doorway and looked at his mother. She met his eyes and shared a moment; so much can change in a moment.

  The picture slipped from her fingertips, fluttered in the air like a dead leaf from an autumn tree, and came to rest on the floor.

  Jorgie followed his mother's eyes to the fallen photo depicting Trevor and the blonde woman in the black dress, cheek to cheek and smiling.

  Smiling the way two people smiled when they are in love.

  ---

  The conference room remained crowded for most of the day. Aides and assistants came and went; couriers delivered more tapes and special editions of newspapers.

  Through it all, Jon watched the video play and listened to the voices on the tapes from radio broadcasts and read the words written in ink.

  Knox barked orders. Orders to his aides and assistants. His operatives.

  Orders like ‘get someone we can trust over to the train station in D.C. to keep an eye on things," or "call over to Senator Benson’s office and tell him to remember who his friends are; tell him I may need a favor and he damn well owes me."

  However, by the time night fell the crowd dissipated leaving behind only two souls, General Jon Brewer and his wife, Lori.

  The plasma screen monitors flickered off, newspapers and communiqués were piled together and pushed into a corner.

  Lori leaned against the old bar, the one with the bullet hole from Stonewall's pistol. Jon sat at the head of the conference table, the seat normally reserved for Trevor Stone, with his eyes fixed on clenched hands.

  "He’ll be back," she said but it sounded less sure than the first three times she said it.

  "I don’t know what to do," Jon finally spoke to her after several minutes of silence. "It’s like the vultures are circling. I need more time to sort it out."

  "Yeah. And it’s Evan Godfrey who’s got the vultures flying. Maybe you should let Gordo take care of that problem. I know he’d love the chance."

  "I’m sure he would, but it’s not just Evan. It’s everyone. Everyone from the army to the farmers. I mean, wow, I guess I never really thought about how he…how he…"

  Lori finished for her husband, "How Trevor held it all together."

  "Yeah."

  "That’s what he is. That’s his job."

  "Whaddya mean? What he is?"

  From the stairs came a new voice, the voice of Ashley.

  "She’s trying to say that without Trevor, it all falls apart. That he was the man who kept everything in balance."

  As she descended the stairs, they saw that Ashley held something in her hand.

  "Without Trevor," she repeated. "It all falls apart."

  Ashley threw the photograph on the table in front of the Brewers.

  "You’re going to tell me what happened while I was…while everyone thought I was dead. You’re going to tell me how Trevor fell in love with Nina Forest, and why they’re not together now."

  ---

  Ashley stood alone by the fire in what had been a living room but in recent years served as a reception area for the mansion.

  In her mind she played the story over and over again. The story of the belief she was dead, the story of two lost souls finding one another in the form of Trevor and Nina. The story of their separation—not by choice--and stolen memories ensuring the demise of the relationship. Then the order to keep the secret so as the temptation would remain one-sided.

  Since her return on the ark, she felt coldness in his smiles, even in his touch. But to learn, in truth, that she was a substitute; a second-place consolation prize, well, it had taken all of her dignity to keep from falling into tears. She would not cry. Certainly not in front of Lori.

  And now he had been spirited off to somewhere—perhaps even another world. Perhaps a duplicate Earth.

  The concept of multiple dimensions was one so huge that Ashley did not take it apart to analyze. She merely accepted the facts as presented. One of those facts was that a woman—a Nina Forest—from that other Earth had come to her world with the goal of snatching away Trevor.

  In the fireplace, flames wrapped eagerly around logs. Smoke raced up the chute while heat billowed out. She knew if she took a few steps away from the fire the warmth would fade and the cold would creep back in.

  Her son cautiously entered the living room. He moved delicately, as if she were a sleeping Troll he dared not disturb.

  Ashley turned and glanced in his direction. She presented the boy with a smile that faded as quickly as it came. He did not smile back. He could not think of a reason to smile.

  JB watched his mother stare at the fire. He licked his lips as he searched for words.

  After much consideration, he said, "Don’t worry, mommy, father will find a way home."

  Ashley spoke words that she intended only to think, but her state of mind allowed them to slip out.

  "What if he doesn’t want to come home?"

  19. Counter Attack

  Trevor spent the next two days stewing around Thebes doing nothing of note and most certainly not writing any reports for The Committee. Furthermore, he avoided Nina—Major Forest—like an addict running from heroine.

  Fortunately, this proved easy because she spent those days working ‘shit duty’ (whatever that was) as penance for her role in the "failed" mission. On the other hand, he could not avoid Reverend Johnny who suddenly seemed focused on one thing only: finding a way home.

  Eventually, he did find something to focus his energies.

  Trevor and Johnny stood outside of their apartment building waiting for ground transportation to the Third Legion’s training facility when sirens sprung to life across the city, reverberating around the tall buildings and along empty streets.

  What if someone held an air raid and no one was there to hear it?

  "God in heaven, what travesty is being visited upon us?"

  Before Trevor could answer a vehicle skid to a fast stop in front of the hostel. Major Nina opened the door and ordered, "Get in!"

  "What? What is it?"

  The siren wailed on.

  "It’s the Chaktaw."

  ---

  The northern perimeter of Thebes offered three lines of defense.

  Furthest out, the remains of a wall broken into isolated pillars of stubborn concrete and piles of debris loosely formed into berms. Stretches of rusting barbed wire, spiked ditches, and crosses that made Trevor think of tank-taps from his home world completed this line of physical obstacles that stood in poor condition, no more than an annoyance to an attacker.

  According to Major Forest, explosive charges controlled from the 'Perimeter Command Center' overlooking the battlefield comprised the second line of defenses.

  The third and final ring included concrete bunkers and earth works hiding infantry and machine gun nests. However, gaps in this line and a lack of personnel inhibited its effectiveness.

  Trevor and Johnny followed Nina to the Perimeter Command bunker, an armored observation platform behind the three rings. There they found Director Snowe as well as an older black man named General Gronard. The General commanded three thousand soldiers of the First Legion manning the northern lines with elements of Snowe's Third Legion in support positions.

  As he waited for the battle to begin, Trevor noted that the officers in the bunker spent more time consulting manuals and maps than observing the field before them.

  When he expressed concern to Nina about a lack of preparation, she told him that The Committee had authored a booklet on procedures for defending the norther
n perimeter. The military followed that booklet—each and every time—to the letter.

  Fortunately for the defenders of the city, Nina said that the Chaktaw had their own play book and they followed it time and time again. This was a well-learned and oft-practiced confrontation, and both sides knew the steps like country folk at a square dance

  "They’re coming in. Heads up; artillery!"

  Shouts of "inbound!" echoed across the defensive lines.

  Trevor ducked behind the protective plating of the bunker, but still dared a view toward the battlefield. He watched the first artillery bursts hit the lines. Seeing what that artillery did…it filled him with a sick sense of dread.

  Not again.

  Red balls of incoming fire smacked the ground with seemingly little effect; barely a tremor but leaving a glowing, hovering sparkle. That sparkle sucked in everything within a few meters like air rushing to fill a vacuum; sucked in and vaporized.

  "Awe…shit. I hate these guys," Trevor grumbled.

  "Huh? You’ve fought the Chaktaw before?" Forest asked.

  Johnny, crouched in a protective position, answered, "We never learned their proper names. We dubbed them ‘Vikings.’ I suppose we can update our Hostiles Database."

  "What’s a Viking?"

  "Never mind. It doesn’t matter. But they were some of the best fighters we faced."

  "Yeah, well, some things are the same over here," Nina said

  The strange artillery rounds poured in for several minutes but managed to inflict only a dozen casualties. It seemed the men of Thebes had grown accustomed to such a bombardment.

  BWOOM! PHFFFTTT!

  A ‘shell’ landed close enough to the bunker that the wind from the suction blew through the open viewport, causing papers and loose objects to whip about.

  Nina told them, "After the artillery they’ll try to find a hole, charge through, and we'll beat them back. After that, they'll go away until next time."

  "The machinations of their stratagem are quite apparent," the Reverend analyzed. "They are bleeding your manpower and supplies dry."

  Nina answered, "Yeah, well, tell us something we don’t already know. They’ve been doing this for months."

  From across the bunker, General Gronard spoke in firm, steady voice issuing orders through a communications station. "Prepare batteries one through six for reprisal fire."

  Trevor recalled the Battle of Five Armies noting, "They did the same to us one time, but on a smaller scale. Back then they tried to do the job in hours. You've got more people than we had then, so they need months to do the job. Same tactic, just on a larger scale."

  Reverend Johnny replied, "Ah yes, but I fear a bayonet charge is not a feasible solution."

  More enemy artillery slammed the three defensive rings. Shouts. Screams.

  Frustrated, Nina said, "I have no clue what you two are talking about, you know?"

  Trevor touched her shoulder and said, "It’s not important. You say they do this all the time. Do you respond the same way each time?"

  "Of course. We always beat them back so until they change, why should we?"

  Trevor overheard Director Snowe saying to Gronard, "Where is your reprisal fire? Get those batteries going."

  "They had a technical problem in fire control. It should be operational in a moment."

  Trevor turned to Nina. "Counter battery fire. That’s what you do, each time?"

  She nodded.

  Trevor stood—actually hunched—and moved over to the two commanding officers

  "Director Snowe, General—Go-Tard?"

  "Gronard."

  "Sorry. Listen, don’t fire your artillery."

  Gronard's expression suggested Trevor spoke words of insanity. He said, "The Committee has set the procedures for defensive warfare based on extensive—" A nearby explosion caused him to pause. "Each time we are successful. I see no reason to change tactics."

  Trevor’s said in a calm, reasoning voice, "No, you do see a reason to change tactics. You’re a General. You’re a warrior. But you don’t want to go against The Committee."

  "The Committee is in charge."

  "The Committee is three bureaucrats trying to micromanage this war. You’re a General. You have to know that using the same tactics time and again is going to fail."

  "The Chaktaw don’t seem to think so."

  "They’re setting you up. You know that. What would you do if you didn’t have to worry about The Committee; if General Gronard had all the responsibility for protecting this city?"

  The General considered. The incoming artillery barrage slowed to an occasional pop.

  Gronard looked at Snowe who nodded, a little.

  "Batteries one through six," the commanding General radioed. "Hold your fire. Re-set range to…to…" Gronard looked out from the bunker with his binoculars. "…re-set range to Alpha plus two hundred meters. Do not fire until I give the order. Do you understand?"

  An unsure voice on the radio answered, "Um…yes…sir."

  Gronard addressed both Trevor and Director Snowe, "Right about now, they’re wondering why we haven’t returned fire."

  Snowe's eyes narrowed and he added, "They may believe we lack ammunition."

  "Then they’ll come," Gronard smiled. "Probably thinking today's the day they break through."

  Stone asked, "Am I right to guess you usually detonate those planted charges in the second defense line on their front wave?"

  "Not today," Gronard said. "Today we’ll wait a bit."

  Snowe asked but without any sense of alarm, "And if they do break through?"

  "That’s what Third Legion is for, right?" Gronard answered with a question of his own.

  "Where are the Third Legion support elements?" Trevor thought a step ahead.

  "They’re in a staging facility by the weapons depot," Snowe answered. "They could be here in five minutes by foot."

  Trevor turned away from the two commanders and approached a table in the middle of the bunker. There he found a map protected under a sheath of hard plastic onto which the strategists had drawn symbols in marker; their version of push pins, no doubt.

  "So? So what was all that about?" Nina asked.

  Reverend Johnny warned, "I fear you are upsetting the status quo?"

  "Nina," Trevor waved a hand over the table. "Translate this for me."

  The Major pointed to the map as she explained, "It’s the area north of us. Like, you can see the defensive lines. Here…and here…these lines with the jagged check marks are the fixed emplacements. And here…those circles with the stars are the explosive charges."

  "What about the terrain out there, where the Chaktaw are coming from."

  "Oh. Okay. Well, it’s flat for about a kilometer, then there are some hills—nothing big—and then there’s a lot of, like, wasteland and a quarry. We strip mined it into a big dust bowl years ago to get at the minerals."

  "And they always come from the north?"

  Forest answered, "Yep. And they’ll retreat that way too. That is, if they don’t bust through our lines now that we don’t have reprisal fire hitting them."

  "What’s this, here, east of the wastelands and quarry?"

  She peered close. "That’s a dry river bed."

  Trevor traced the river bed. It pushed east then looped back west not far from the quarry along the enemy’s anticipated path of egress.

  "They go through this quarry? Each time?"

  "I think so, yeah. I mean, wherever they’re attacking us from it’s somewhere directly north, so that’s the quick way. But, hey, that base of theirs has to be a lot of kilometers away. Our recon has never spotted it. I don’t think we can hit it from—"

  "Okay. Relax," Trevor assured. "I don’t want to hit their base. Just curious, that’s all."

  The Chaktaw’s artillery bombardment ceased without challenge from human counter-fire. The soldiers of Thebes in the defensive emplacements fidgeted nervously, certainly wondering why their guns had not answered the enemy.
r />   Then came the shock troops and Trevor saw that, yes, the Chaktaw were the Viking invaders Trevor knew from his Earth.

  They poured forward in two sledgehammer-like columns dressed in camouflage ponchos. Trevor had seen those ponchos turn black and green for battle in the forest. The Jon Brewer of Trevor’s Earth had seen them turn white to blend into the arctic landscape. Reverend Johnny had seen them both times, but never in such numbers with their ponchos changing to earth tones to hide best against the brown tundra of the land they crossed.

  At least three thousand came, another two thousand waited to exploit any breakthrough.

  The columns included large beasts, some carrying troops on their shoulders. The things—fat lizards the size of elephants—wobbled side to side as they walked. In addition, some of the Chaktaw rode big motorized tricycles.

  As they approached, more Chaktaw artillery fell but this time delivered a smoke screen of the same color as the earth tones on the enemy ponchos.

  "Here they come!" Gronard stated the obvious.

  "Let’s hope this works…" Snowe stated the obvious as well.

  First through the smoke charged the large lizards, spurred on by whip-wielding handlers. The things roared toward the human lines in a frenzy, knocking over debris and barreling through security wire, their thick skin oblivious to the sharp barbs.

  Then the line of attacking soldiers burst through the smoke screen and pushed beyond the first ring of barricades with little trouble.

  The bunker's radio broadcast, "Command, this is artillery control. The Committee has contacted us to find out why we haven’t fired. I don’t know what to tell them."

  "Just wait for my signal," Gronard replied.

  The raging lizards and the vanguard of the Chaktaw reached the first line of explosives, charging in an enthusiastic sprint as if sensing an opportunity for final victory.

  "They’re going to overrun us!" Forest shouted as she reached for her two pistols hanging in dual shoulder harnesses.

  "Relax. They’re already dead," Trevor spoke loud enough so that his confidence might infect everyone in the bunker.

  The human defenders in the third line of defenses responded to the onslaught. Machine gun fire struck at Chaktaw infantry, portable missile launchers blew a part two of the lizards.