by M C Drake
Miller opened up on the .50 once more, he certainly got the enemies attention as a swarm of purple fire peppered his position, he remained calm under fire though and continued to give as good as he got. A stream of the .50's armor-piercing rounds cut two of the soldiers down, one tried to lift his head but was struck straight through the helmet, the face shield cracked and let out a blue electrical hue and then blood seeped out of the wound.
“You fuckers can die then.” Miller smiled.
Airman 1st class Tom Cox had managed to reach Hall unscathed, he had started to check Hall over.
“Where are you hit sir?”
“My… my...top of my left arm.” Hall said, he was starting to shake.
Cox ginger peeled back the burnt edges of Hall’s uniform, it had fused with the charred skin around the wound. Hall winced in pain.
Cox’s face screwed up as he made his assessment.
“That good ey?” Hall said.
“You’ll live.”
Blood poured from the middle of the wound, the only part that had not been cauterized, Cox looked at his friend.
“I am going to put antiseptic cream on, it is going to sting and then I am going to bandage it up.”
Hall nodded.
A large flash of purple leaped out and struck the right-hand wall of the hanger, which bent and distorted in a bubble of superheated plasma, it exploded, shrapnel and debris flew in every direction and knocked Alan Perry off of his feet. The wall of the hanger half collapsed but the overall structure held firm.
“Perry!” Miller shouted, “Are you ok?”
There was a moments silence until then Airman raised his arm and stuck his thumb up.
Cox had just finished putting the bandage on Hall, who had not enjoyed the experience, the wound was the worst pain he had ever experienced, it still burnt under the dressing and his body was still in shock.
“That will have to do Sir, you are in shock, drink some of this.” Cox said and thrust a bottle of soda into his good hand.
Hall laughed, “Trust you to have this in your bag at a time like this!”
Cox smiled “Can’t go anywhere without it sir, I might get a headache otherwise.” Cox’s face hardened, “Take a minute Sir, I’ll cover you then we need you back in the fight.”
Hall nodded.
Staff Sergeant Billy ‘The Kid’ Jonson was the first to hear it, an aggressive, almost angry rumbling that was coming from his left.
“We have trouble coming guys.” He shouted as he moved his position, “Owens if you’re going to do anything, then it’s now or never.”
Miller could hear it now as well, his heart sank “Get to cover, tanks!” He shouted. Owens swung the trolley housing the missiles around, trying to aim up as best as he could.
The side of the corrugated hanger peeled apart as a gigantic tank burst through, a tool station was obliterated in the process and various tools flew everywhere.
Miller let out a roar as he swung the .50 round and gave everything he had, the rounds bounced off of the armored monster.
"Like spitballs' Miller thought to himself.
The turret of the monster turned on his position and the smaller machine gun opened up, the rounds splashed towards Miller but were not quite lined up correctly, the smell of burning metal and concrete surrounded Miller; who could not believe he was still in one piece.
Owens finally got one of the ignitions lit, then rapidly four of the five missiles roared into life. Owens jump to the floor as they Sidewinders tore forward but with no guidance the first one corkscrewed into the floor and detonated just a few meters from Owens; he was showered in debris.
The second missile flew too high and rushed over the top of the turret but the third and fourth missiles stayed true and impacted on the front up plate of the huge vehicle. Two fireballs blossomed over the hull and smoke rose from the two impact sights.
“Yeah!” Cox shouted, “Take that you sons of bitches!”
As the smoke cleared Miller’s jaw dropped, the only effect the missiles had were to create two small, blackened burn marks where they had struck.
“What the hell is that thing made of?”
“That armor is incredible.” Hall said begrudgingly.
The turret moved slightly and the cannon glowed an angry purple.
“Shit, Miller get the fuck out of there!” Hall ordered.
The tank fired, the superheated shell raced towards Miller's position, he had nowhere to go. The round detonated right on him, he disappeared in a ball of purple light, a mini supernova erupted in the middle of the hanger and the blast washed over Owen's unconscious body, he was vaporized in an instant.
Hall bowed his head.
Johnson was still firing at the advancing troops, trying to take as many of them out as he could with the last remaining Browning machine gun. Hall gingerly got to his feet and started to pop rounds off at the tank, he had no hope of damaging it but he was hoping to at least piss it off.
The machine gun on the tank's turret began hosing the area again, Perry dove behind cover but was hit in the side before he got there, he let out a terrifying yelp as he hit the floor.
Cox continued to provide suppressing fire on the rapidly advancing troops until his rifle clicked empty.
“I’m out.” Cox shouted.
‘Hudson must be out by now; he better be out because we can’t do anymore.’ Hall thought.
“Boys, listen to me!” Hall shouted, “Lay your weapons down, we’re done.”
Cox was about to say something but was cut off.
“Don’t argue with me, drop your weapons now.”
Hall dropped his gun and slowly raised his hands above his head. Tom Cox followed suit and reluctantly Jonson gave up his .50, Perry just led on the floor whimpering.
“We are surrendering, we have laid our weapons down, we are now your prisoners.” Hall shouted. Blood trickled down his arm.
The tank held fire as the armored troops flooded into the hanger, they collected all of the American’s weapons and started to round them up next to the hanger entrance. They were ordered to sit.
"Our man there is injured, we need to give him medical aid and you need to make provisions for his treatment." Hall said with authority.
A laugh rang out from behind the group of armored soldiers, it was a laugh of derision.
“Who said that?” The voice said in a distinctly German tone.
“I did Sir, I am Senior Master Sergeant Warren Hall and I am in command…”
“Shut up you insect, you have lost and are in command of nothing.” The man said as he emerged from the group of soldiers.
His dark features locked onto Hall’s grey eyes, Hall could see no emotion in the man’s face and he felt a feeling of dread wash over him.
“Who am I speaking to Sir?” Hall asked assertively.
The man scoffed, “Kill them.” He ordered.
The armored men raised their weapons.
"What!" Hall shouted, "We are prisoners of war under your care, we have surrendered to you and under The Geneva Convention Article 3 –
1. Persons taking no active part in the hostilities, including members of armed forces who have laid down their arms and those placed hors de combat by sickness, wounds, detention, or any other cause, shall in all circumstances be treated humanely, without any adverse distinction founded on race, color, religion or faith, sex, birth or wealth, or any other similar criteria.”
A voice boomed out from over the German man’s shoulder, “Geneva Convention, what is that Sporrenberg?”
General Sporrenberg just shrugged his shoulders, “Never heard of it, finishes these weaklings off.” He ordered again.
The man stood just behind Sporrenberg gave a slight nod and the troops opened fire on the defenseless prisoners.
Hall let out a curse as he began to charge forward but he was hit with a deadly hail of burning Plasma, his burning body fell to the floor and he died there in agony, the rest of his men had no chance at all and they were al
l slaughtered.
Sporrenberg let out a smile. “The base is ours, get our bridgehead set up quickly.” Sporrenberg looked down on the dead bodies of the American’s, “Bury these scum in a shallow grave, then burn the bodies.” He smiled again then spat on Hall’s corpse.
The man stood on Sporrenberg’s shoulder shouted, “You heard the General, and you have your orders, get to it!”
The armor-clad soldiers jumped into action.
The battle of Wright Patterson Air Force base was over, it had only taken an hour and a half.
Dayton
Dawn was officially a couple of minutes away and Pamela's groggy mind was not quite ready to wake up yet. The sound of commotion grew steadily around her, people rushing about in all directions finally forced her to get up.
The young student rubbed her sleep filled eyes, “What time is it?” She asked.
“Don't know, all of our damn watches have stopped, must be near dawn though.” The man packing up his bedding from their tent replied.
“Shit we're late.” Pamela said and she hurriedly put her bra back on, “Where are my pants Steve?”
“Not in my bedding, check under your sleeping bag.”
“Shit...shit...shit.” Pamela repeated, she did not want the convoy to leave without her.
Pamela was traveling with a large group of protesters who were on their way to make their feeling clear outside one of America's largest air base, Wright Patterson Air Force base. The group who consisted mainly of students had camped out on the outskirts of Dayton, Ohio and were planning to start their protest at dawn.
The gang traveled in a convoy mainly made up of Volkswagen camper vans but any available van was commandeered from family members and then packed full to the brim with camping gear, alcohol and copious amounts of drugs.
The morning was not going to plan however as none of the vehicles would start, despite multiple attempts that caused some of the starter motors to flood. A lot of colorful language started to bound around and even some accusation of sabotage from the more wasted members of the group.
Pamela was up and out in the fresh morning air, they had got the tent packed up a were just eating some stale sausage rolls. Pamela looked up to the sky, it was still dark and pinpricks of starlight still dotted the area.
“That's strange!” Steve said.
A brief image of Brooklyn Jnr flashed through Pamela's mind but she quickly suppressed it.
“What?” She said.
“The lights in Dayton, they are all out, not one light is on, not even a street light.”
Pam looked over. Steve was right. “Power cut?”
“Must be.”
“Is that what's wrong with our car?”
Steve shook his head, “Shouldn't have any effect… that is something totally different.”
Pam sighed and looked down at her watch, It had stopped as well, “Steve, what time did your watch stop?”
He glanced down, "One forty-three."
Pam looked up "Mine too, that's weird."
“Coincidence!” Steve shrugged.
Pamela was not so sure and went over to ask the other guys; she was shocked when their watches had also stopped at the exact same time down to the very second.
“Maybe it was some kind of interference in the atmosphere?”
“No way man, it is clearly a trick by the government to stop us from our right to freedom of speech!”
“Oh come on Franklin, how much crack did you smoke last night anyway?”
The group continued to bicker for a good twenty minutes and only snapped out of it when the first rays of sunshine crested the horizon.
“How far is it to trek over there and begin our protest anyway?” Steve asked.
“About ten miles, give or take.”
“We can't walk that far, we have too much shit and we can't leave it here unattended!”
“Alright...alright, was just thinkin’ out loud.” Steve huffed.
The sound of distant jet engines snapped the protesters out of their argument.
“Bloody pigs, out testing their death machines already!”
“Yeah, bastards.”
The group began jeering as the sound of jet engines got closer. Then the first jet was spotted, followed by another and the two more; finally, a total of seven jets were in view, streaking low towards Dayton itself.
One of the protesters had his binoculars up and managed to track one of the jets, it had a strange pink glow coming from the two engines mounted on the stubby swept back wings.
“That doesn't look like any plane I have seen before?” He said.
“Must be a new prototype they're testin’.”
The older man let out a deep breath, “Ya could be right but they sure are coming in fast and low over the town. People won’t like that when they're sleepin’.”
“Another example of how our military doesn't care about its citizens!”
More cheers rang out.
The jets splintered in different directions and moved fast. They shot up nearly vertically, flipped over and dived at speed towards the ground. The first plane let off a flash of dark purple light that arced down to earth and after a few seconds, it exploded in a brilliant bright ball that completely destroyed the building it hit and sent shockwaves over the others.
“Shit.”
“What the fuck was that?” Pamela said in a frightened tone.
The rest of the jets followed suit and dropped their bombs on targets in the town, the place was ablaze quickly and plumes of dark smoke billowed into the air, occasionally joined by the dazzling purple explosions.
The group of students and protesters did not know what to do, they were all in shock and the blood started to leave their extremities as their brains decided to either fight, or run.
One of the jets screamed overhead, and then turned sharply to face the large gathering of stunned people.
Pamela felt a shiver run down her spine and she dragged Steve away from the group of astonished onlookers and pushed him to the floor.
The air in between the plane and the people filled with a deadly stream of fire as the pink plasma rained down on the helpless students. The air crackled and sizzled as the superheated projectiles struck all around.
The Protesters had no chance and nowhere to run, they started to fall like flies as they were struck by the plasma, men and women fell to the floor, some of their charred bodies burnt where they lay. The sweet, unpleasant smell of burnt human flesh and hair overpowered the area.
As the jet went overhead a few of the surviving protesters saw their opportunity to make a run for it, Pamela begged them to stay down but they were far too frightened. They ran as fast as they could but the jet had turned around for its second strafing run.
Pamela watched as her friends, innocent people were struck down; they screamed in agony as they were burnt or bled to death, it was a nightmare.
Pamela and Steve were the only two survivors and they stayed hidden under the bloody corpses of their friends, bearing the almost unbearable stench of burning humans; they both wept.
The sound of explosions continued in Dayton, the residents screamed, shouted, prayed and ran in any direction they could but the enemies ground forces had arrived.
Ancestry
In the sleepy town of Dayton, the horror was just beginning to dawn on the terrified population. The local police station had been destroyed in a huge blast, the surrounding buildings were burning husks.
A group of huge tanks rumbled around the outskirts of the town and were under orders to kill anything that tried to run. Smaller, quicker tanks were flanked by huge numbers of soldiers in dark full body armor, they moved through the suburban streets; the soldiers began to force everyone from their homes.
Men women and children of all ages were lined up on the pavement and ordered to stand there until they were processed.
Curtis Taylor stood quietly and surveyed the situation as he was pulled from his home, a forty-four-year-old Dayt
on man born and bred. He worked in the National Museum of the United States Air Force; Dayton was the birthplace of Orville Wright, one of the brothers to pioneer flight. He was widely celebrated here.
Taylor had been in the National Guard and had managed to smuggle a loaded pistol in his dressing gown. As one of the soldiers walked passed Taylor went to ask what was going on. The soldier responded by punching Curtis in the face, he stumbled backward from the blow.
“What was that for, he did not do anything!” Roland Walker said, Roland was Taylor’s elderly neighbor who ran the local grocery store.
The soldier turned and checked the old man over, he walked up to him and pulled him into the middle of the road, Roland's wife screamed and began to cry as she tried in vain to keep her grip on her husband's wrist. The soldier pushed Roland over onto the hard tarmac and then turned and slapped Norma Walker forcefully across the face.
The armor-clad soldier strode up behind Roland, placed the barrel of his gun to his head and without a moment's hesitation, fired. The superheated round flew through the old man's skull and the bubbling blood splattered over the dry tarmac.
Norma let out a devastating wail, Curtis tried to stop her but it was too late and she raced forwards towards the Soldier, he did not turn around. Norma had barely managed to get off the sidewalk before a hail of plasma round struck her, they hosed down her chest and torso, and she hit the floor and managed one last painful breath before she died. Norma’s smoldering body ignited slowly as her hair began to burn.
“This is what happens if you cannot follow orders.” One of the soldiers said in a deep tone.
Anyone who tried to fight back as they were pulled from their homes was killed instantly and remorselessly. Similarly anyone who mentioned human rights and swift American retaliation was shot on the spot. Finally, the population of Dayton was subdued.
The second phase now began. A man in full black body armor approached a cowering family stood out on the sidewalk; the man who was African American had not had time to get dressed and was out in the chilly morning air, completely naked. His wife and young child, stood behind him.
Glen King was a bank manager these days but had once served with Curtis in the National Guard, he was thirty-seven and had a young family with a beautiful child with his white wife.
