The Belial War

by R. D. Brady

  Elisabeta glared at the screen. Get on the plane.

  Finally, Laney reached up and placed a hand on his cheek. Drake leaned in to it, his shoulders drooping. Laney kissed him gently. Drake leaned back, wiping tears from her cheeks before taking her hand, walking up the stairs, and disappearing into the cabin.

  Aw, how sweet. He wants to die, too.

  A minute later, the pilot came hustling out, and the door closed. The plane taxied down the runway before taking off into the bright blue sky. Elisabeta immediately placed the call. It was answered on the first ring.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “They both got on the plane, and no one was seen leaving it besides the pilot.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure. I have people positioned around the airfield. No one else got off.”

  “Good.” She disconnected the call. She had her analysts pore over every piece of footage from the airport to make sure there were no mistakes, no chance that McPhearson had gotten off that plane. Luckily the media helped by covering the event like it was a Moon landing. Every news team in the world seemed to have a representative at the small airport, providing a slightly different camera angle on the plane.

  Now she just had to wait for one last check. The hour passed incredibly slowly, with Elisabeta shifting between giddiness and concern. But giddiness edged out her concerns as she watched the news coverage again and again, confirming that both Delaney and the archangel remained on the plane.

  Finally, she reached the hour mark. The plane should be a few miles off the coast of the United States. Her phone rang two minutes later.

  “Yes?”

  “I have two heat signatures on the plane.”

  “And there is no doubt?”

  “None, ma’am. There are two people on the plane.”

  “Thank you.” She disconnected the call with a smile. She had checked the heat signatures on the plane before Laney had boarded and there’d been only one: the pilot. So they had gotten on the plane and stayed there.

  She smiled even more broadly. What a gullible fool. She smirked at the trust of McPhearson thinking she would let her anywhere near her.

  As if I would take that chance when I am so close.

  Chapter 67

  Baltimore, Maryland

  No one spoke in the bedroom as the news camera followed Delaney as she walked from the terminal toward the waiting plane, which was fine with Patrick because he didn’t want to speak with any of them anyway. They had let Laney leave. They knew what she was going to do, and they still let her leave.

  Cleo hopped up on the bed, lying alongside Patrick. If Cleo could talk, she would be the only one he wanted to hear from. She’d nearly torn the blast door down when she learned Laney had slipped off the estate, leaving large bloodied paw prints on the walls and floor. Yoni had had to tranq her. When she’d awoken, everyone gave her a wide berth. Cleo had headed straight for Patrick and not left his side. He liked to think they were offering each other comfort.

  A hiccupped breath sounded from his left. Lou’s eyes shone with tears as she stared at the camera. Rolly pulled her into his shoulder as tears rolled down her cheeks, his own chin trembling.

  Around the room, the look of devastation on Rolly and Lou’s faces was playing out on everyone else’s faces. Cain, Danny, Dom, Yoni, Sascha, Henry—they all stared in anguish at the screen. And he knew the emotion uppermost in each of them—powerlessness.

  Because powerless was exactly how he felt.

  But then a blur appeared on the screen. A kernel of hope grew in his chest. Drake materialized in front of Laney, glaring down at her as he argued with her. But then what little hope he had was dashed as Drake accompanied her onto the plane and disappeared inside after kicking out the pilot.

  Onscreen, the plane began to taxi before taking off into the air. Patrick gripped Cleo tightly.

  Don’t do this, Laney. Please don’t do this. But the plane kept flying until it disappeared from view.

  Patrick sagged back against the pillows, closing his eyes. He’d been so sure Drake would be able to talk her out of it, or at least grab her and disappear before she could fight him.

  “She’s gone,” Danny said, his voice full of disbelief.

  “Hey, Laney’s been through more than all of us combined,” said Yoni. “She’ll find a way. She always has.”

  “You really think so?” Lou asked.

  Yoni nodded. “Absolutely.” He kept his gaze on Lou until she nodded in return. But when she turned away, Patrick saw the doubt creep across Yoni’s face.

  Patrick kept the station on, listening to the newscasters talk about Laney, Elisabeta, what the world response was. He muted it after a while, but no one cared, and no one seemed ready to leave. And even though Patrick was mad at most of them, he didn’t want them to leave either. He didn’t want to be alone right now. They all spoke quietly, everyone needing the comfort of the group and not the stares of all those out in the rest of the shelter.

  “Patrick, put the volume back on,” Henry said, alarm in his voice.

  BREAKING NEWS in bright red letters was emblazoned across the screen. Patrick fumbled for the remote. Hitting the volume button, the newscasters voice blasted out in mid-sentence.

  “—news that there has been an attack on the plane carrying Delaney McPhearson to Calevitnia.”

  A gasp sounded across the room, but Patrick didn’t turn his head to see who it was. If his life depended on it, he didn’t think he’d be able to turn his attention from the screen.

  “We go now live to our correspondent at Ocean City.”

  A woman’s face appeared on screen. “An incredible development in the McPhearson incident. A family boating in the waters off Ocean City caught the scene with their camera. It shows . . . Well, I’ll let the video speak for itself.”

  The screen shifted again, this time to a little girl only about six years old standing in the bow of a boat. “Is that her plane?” the girl asked.

  “That’s it, honey.”

  The camera operator zoomed in on the plane as it zoomed across the sky. An object appeared, heading toward the plane. Yoni and Henry leapt to their feet. Patrick just stared in growing horror.

  And then the plane exploded, pieces flying off in all directions. It felt like years as Patrick watched small pieces of the plane drop into the ocean below, piece by piece.

  The female newscaster returned to the screen. “The plane carrying Delaney McPhearson has exploded en route. The Coast Guard was on scene almost immediately as they were carrying out a routine patrol nearby. They have not, as of yet, found any survivors.”

  Cleo let out a strangled cry. Patrick’s jaw fell open, his mind failing to work. The newscaster in the studio reappeared along with a close-up of the plane on the screen. They slowed it down enough that the impact of the missile right into the fuselage was clear.

  Patrick gulped for air. The room started to close in on him. Vaguely, he could hear the cries surrounding him, the gasps of shock as the reality of what had just happened settled in on them.

  Cain appeared at his side, his eyes wet with tears. “Patrick?”

  Patrick gasped, his chest feeling tight, with no air getting through.

  “Patrick!” Cain yelled.

  Then Yoni was there, lowering the bed and yelling for oxygen.

  Dom placed a mask over Patrick’s face, even as tears streamed down Dom’s face.

  “Just breathe, Patrick. Just breathe,” Cain said, keeping his gaze on Patrick, not letting him look away.

  Patrick felt the air finally reach his lungs, and he breathed more easily. But his eyes welled with tears. Patrick pushed the mask aside. “Laney?” he gasped out.

  Cain knew the question he was asking. He shook his head, his voice shaking. “It’s real, Patrick. She’s gone.”

  Chapter 68

  Invess, Calevitnia

  Ordering the missile to launch on Delaney McPhearson’s plane might have been one of the hig
hlights of Elisabeta’s life. She had watched it on the two screens her technician had set up in the room—one radar screen, one satellite feed. The plane was the only object on either screen until a small dot had appeared, heading straight for the plane.

  Excitement had coursed through Elisabeta as she watched the dot grow closer and closer. She shifted her gaze between the satellite image and the radar image until she could just make out the movement on the satellite image. Then in one big beautiful explosion, the plane blew into thousands of parts, raining down into the Atlantic Ocean.

  Elisabeta laughed out loud again at the memory. Finally. It was done. All of the obstacles were now out of her way. And all of Delaney McPhearson was scattered across the Atlantic Ocean.

  She watched the footage again. She’d sent a drone up to make sure she had conformation. It never got old. Each time she watched it, the wider her smile became. The missile had struck the fuselage, ripping it to shreds. There’d been no sign of the ring bearer using any of her abilities to save herself or Drake.

  She’d watched it carefully, slowing it down, inspecting each piece of the plane as it rained down. But they were not there. She was dead.

  Elisabeta leaned back, feeling contentment drift through her. Finally. The woman had been a thorn in her side. Killing her—it was never an easy proposition. But with this approach, she had caught all of them unaware. Did they really think she was going to let the ring bearer within shooting distance of her? That she was going to let an archangel within reach?

  Fools.

  A knock at her door caused her to look up. Artem stood in the open doorway. She waved him in. “What is the status?”

  “The governments of the world have been mobilizing. Their armies and law enforcement have all been put on high alert. And the big eight are in constant contact.”

  “No doubt discussing how to take me out. Have the packages all arrived?”

  “Almost. The first six are in place, and the second six will be in place within the hour.”

  “Good. Let me know when the first government folds.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Artem bowed before backing out of the room.

  Elisabeta pushed back from the desk and walked over to the large world map on the wall. Twelve blue pushpins had been placed on the map on twelve different countries. These twelve had been chosen for a variety of factors: population size, recognizability, economic impact. Some would no doubt be predicted, but she’d added a few that no one would guess.

  But which one to begin with? It was important to set the right tone. The right level of fear. Not blind panic, because panicked people made horrible decisions. A calculated strike that would make all others fold.

  She smiled, removing one of the blue pins and replacing it with a red one.

  You will be perfect.

  Chapter 69

  Washington, D.C.

  The Oval Office was tense. Nancy shifted on the gold-striped couch, trying to find a more comfortable position. But she’d been sitting in meetings all day. Her body was dying to stand and stretch.

  Elisabeta’s second little video had sent shockwaves through the halls of the White House. The pure brutality was sickening and clarifying. They knew who they were dealing with now, what type of person she was. For those who’d at one point argued that Elisabeta could be reasoned with, the video had at least given them pause. The assassination of Delaney McPhearson had made them choke on their words. Elisabeta was not a woman who would be reasoned with, that was now agreed upon by all individuals in the room and across similar rooms situated in every country on the planet.

  But that did not mean that everyone agreed with how to handle her demands.

  “We cannot hand over control of the United States. That is not open for debate,” stated Senator Franklin Bash, head of the Senate Homeland Security Committee.

  “But if we did, and if we did so first, perhaps it would allow us a chance to work with Elisabeta,” the DIA analyst argued.

  “Work with her? She’s a psychopath. There is no working with her,” Senator Shremp argued.

  “All right.” The President stood up. “Thank you for your counsel. I will let you know what I decide.”

  Each person stood up, walking past the President with a nod and a “Madam President.” Nancy was the last to leave.

  “Nancy, stay a minute.”

  “Of course, Madam President.”

  The President waited until the door to the Oval was shut and it was just the two of them. Then she walked over to the windows and let out a breath.

  Nancy waited.

  Finally, the President turned. “Do you think Elisabeta will follow through on her threats?”

  Nancy didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

  “And if we don’t agree to hand over control? If we take the hits and fight back?”

  “The Fallen—they are more powerful than any human. We can fight them, but the cost—it will be huge. In lives, resources, money. And I’m pretty sure Elisabeta is a dirty fighter. She will go for the big hits. Not just our people. Our infrastructure, our economic hubs. She will cripple us if we cross her.”

  “And if we agree? If we hand over control?”

  “I don’t know. A woman willing to kill children to make a point—I can’t see how her as a leader would benefit us. And we know from history that leaders with too much power are rarely kind to those they control.”

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about history lately. The twentieth century saw the rise of some of the cruelest leaders imaginable. People tend to think of Hitler as the worst of the modern-day dictators, but he wasn’t even close.”

  “Mao Zedong,” Nancy said quietly.

  “Yes. Over forty-seven million victims. But I have a feeling that those numbers will pale in comparison to Elisabeta’s numbers.”

  Nancy nodded. Her thoughts, too, had strayed down through history. Removal of all rights, censorship, physical attacks, slavery—all seemed possible in Elisabeta’s future.

  The President turned back to Nancy, her eyes hooded. “Did we make a mistake?”

  “Madam President?”

  “In not letting Delaney McPhearson take the lead. In not backing her.”

  “I don’t know. I think killing McPhearson, who Elisabeta sees as a roadblock to her goals, was always Elisabeta’s goal. But as to whether or not we could have changed her fate and then ours as well, I don’t think anyone can know that.”

  “She knew she was going to die as soon as she agreed to get on that plane.”

  Nancy nodded. “Yes.”

  “I’m not sure if that makes her brave or stupid.”

  “I like to think it made her optimistic. Optimistic that her death could buy the rest of us some time.”

  “The joint chiefs have a plan of attack. They want to take out all the missile silos. They should be finalizing the details.”

  “I figured that was in the works.”

  “Hundreds of innocents could be killed. Some of the silos are in the middle of towns. But millions might be saved if it works. It would be a joint effort—a coalition of all the world’s nations working together. But will our efforts help or only make things worse?”

  “Ma’am, with all due respect, America was not built on the backs of people afraid to fight. It was built on the backs of people who embraced freedom, people willing to die for freedom. As much as the country has changed since the time of our founding fathers, I don’t think we as a people have changed. And I think even if we hand over control, people will fight.”

  “I don’t disagree.” The President sighed, looking back out the window. “When I decided to run for President, I knew that the decisions ahead of me would be difficult. That they could involve war and the deaths of thousands. But I never imagined the stakes would be this high.”

  “Can I ask what the other world leaders think?”

  The President shrugged. “The same as we do. But they all are waiting for someone to make the hard decision.”

  “They
’re waiting on you.”

  The President nodded. Then she picked up the phone. “Get me Admiral Tully.” Then she surprised Nancy by putting the call on speaker.

  “Admiral, tell me you have something.”

  “We have the location of all the missile silos.”

  “How accurate are they?”

  “We believe they are accurate.”

  “That was not my question,” the President said.

  “We do know where all the silos were at the fall of the Soviet Union. We do not know if any of the missiles have been moved. But they are not easy objects to move. To build another platform to launch the rocket is no easy feat either. And there has been no indication of that kind of movement.”

  “I see.”

  “There is one other piece of intel we have picked up.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “We know where Roccorio is.”

  “What? Where?”

  “We had a report that she was sighted at an estate outside the capital of Calevitnia. Satellite images confirm it’s her. We have eyes on her. We could take her out in the same strike that takes out the silos.”

  “How would you take her out?

  “Drone strike. Smaller yield to reduce collateral damage.”

  “What would the collateral damage be?”

  “The estate is relatively isolated, so it should be low.”

  “Very well.” The President stood.

  Nancy tensed, waiting for the President’s next words.

  “Admiral, the attack is a go.”

  Chapter 70

  Baltimore, Maryland

  Patrick had closed his eyes after Cain confirmed what he’d seen was real. Cain had then chased everyone from the room, knowing Patrick needed to be alone. Needed to think for just a moment. To wrap his head around the horror that had just played out on the TV screen for all the world to see.

  But how could he do that? How could wrap his head around Laney being gone? And she hadn’t died staring down Elisabeta but in the air. It was a coward’s move on Elisabeta’s part. She was too afraid to meet Laney.