“We’ll be okay, Tom,” said Anna calmly. “Trust me.”
“But none of our forces are in a position to protect us,” he insisted. “We’re exposed, and it’s just the two of us.”
She was about to respond when a deep voice came through her comm. “Move thirty yards due east to be sure you aren’t in view of any Tart cameras, and then go invisible—just in case.”
“Roger that,” she replied aloud to the bafflement of Vega. “Follow me,” she said to the Vorian leader as she moved rapidly to their east.
They quickly picked their way among the trees in silence.
“Halt there!” commanded the same voice as before. “Go invisible.”
“Going invisible now,” said Anna out loud as she manipulated her lapel pin to make this happen, instructing Vega to do the same.
A stream of machine-gun-carrying US commandos broke through heavy foliage twenty yards away and rushed to their general location. Vega raised his machine gun to fire. “Lower your weapon, Tom!” barked Anna, unable to see him, but still sure that his weapon was raised. “They’re friends.”
“Friends?” said the shocked, disembodied voice of her alien companion. “This was all planned? Do you want to tell me about it?”
“I do,” said Anna. “And soon. But it’s a long story, so not now.”
The commandos changed course slightly, zeroing in on her voice. “Anna, I’m Lieutenant Brent Knox,” said the man who had directed her earlier. “I need you to lead us to your position.”
“Halt where you are,” said Anna’s disembodied voice. “I’ll toss the five bags your way. They’ll become visible as soon as I let go.”
She made sure the drawstrings on the five bags of invisibility lapels were drawn tightly closed and tossed them toward the ever-growing number of commandos in the forest nearby. “We could only manage eighty-seven units in total,” she said. “But that should be more than enough. I assume you’ve already been briefed on how to use them.”
“We have,” said Knox, gathering up the five bags and handing them to others under his command. “We have to go now,” he said, as the five soldiers holding bags saw to it that he and eleven other members of Spec Ops 3 now had lapel pins.
As he spoke, he and his men began flaring out of existence as they activated the invisibility units. “I’m leaving ten men behind to protect you,” he said. “Eight visible and two invisible. But this should be more than enough to do the job. Have your remaining Vorian forces stand down immediately and retreat to safety. Other than that, enjoy the woods, and wait for us to sound the all clear.”
“Will do, Lieutenant,” said Anna. “Thank you. And Godspeed.”
Knox rushed off through the woods. “Commander DeMarco,” he said through a private Spec Ops channel, “we have the invisibility units. Five of my men are carrying them, and are now invisible. They just activated transponders. Confirm that you’re able to track their positions.”
“Confirmed,” said DeMarco.
“Good. I’m also invisible, as are four others on my team. Since Frey ordered our Team 3 Tart counterparts to follow in our footsteps after I reported that all but three of us were down, they’re only a few minutes behind us. We’ll engage this team momentarily.”
“Roger that,” said DeMarco. “But be careful. You’re invisible, but they’re now shooting at the ground and lower branches indiscriminately.”
“Understood. But if my strategy works as planned, they’ll be panicking and taking out each other. Death by friendly fire. Or a circular firing squad, if you prefer this metaphor.”
“Happy hunting, Lieutenant,” said DeMarco.
The commander immediately changed channels to one that could be heard by all two hundred Navy SEALs. “Attention, all personnel,” he barked into the private channel. “Lieutenant Knox and four of his men will be opening fire on all Tarts in Team 3 momentarily. When you hear this gunfire, take out as many Tarts on your counterpart teams as possible. Move behind them now. Remember, they think you’re allies, so maximize the element of surprise. When the survivors have figured out what happened and begin returning fire, disperse through the trees, and I’ll make sure many of you hook up with soldiers delivering invisibility units. Those of you who become invisible help protect those who aren’t, and systematically finish all Tarts left standing.”
Less than a minute later, Knox and his four teammates opened fire as expected, and all hell broke loose in a one-mile stretch of Albanian woods.
Almost two hundred exquisitely trained Navy SEALs fired machine guns in unison, each weapon capable of delivering six hundred rounds per minute, blindsiding their erstwhile Tartarian allies. Given their knowledge of the stakes, none were too proud not to shoot the Tarts in the back, mowing down large swaths of the hostile aliens all at once, littering the woods with their mutilated corpses and filling the air with the pungent sulfur odors of rotting eggs and dead skunk.
A rampage of forest creatures, large and small, fled the area as if a wall of flames were racing toward them. Countless birds were flushed into the sky, along with thick clouds of insects, all mounting a joint exodus from a level of destruction, noise, and vibration that was beyond any life-form’s ability to comprehend.
The bark and wood from hundreds of trees splintered into the air as the almost three hundred Tarts who survived the first few minutes of the attack returned fire and the battle was fully joined. But with every passing minute, more SEALs were handed lapel pins, and their training and invisibility, together, gave them an advantage impossible to overcome.
Eventually, thirty-two Tartarians, realizing they had no hope, managed to flee the scene along with the animals of the forest, and would live to fight another day.
But five hundred eighty six others were now dead, in many cases chewed to shreds by dozens of high-caliber rounds. Many dozens of gallons of alien blood had been spilled, adding black to the rich forest palette of greens and browns, along with the yellow-gold of untold thousands of spent shell casings.
After less than ten minutes, the forest fell silent once again, as all hostile forces were either dead or well on the run.
The contrast between the deafening, terrifying sounds of thousands of rounds being shot each second during the opening, simultaneous barrage, and the current silence was profound. The entire exchange was even worse for the Vorians, whose hearing was many times more acute than that of humans.
Knox promptly gave Anna and her protectors the all clear, and the detective and her alien companion shimmered back into the visible spectrum.
Vega eyed Anna in wonder. “That was truly remarkable,” he said. “Maybe you can fill me in while we work our way to the portal.” He smiled broadly. “It looks like nothing can stop us now.”
Anna winced. “About that,” she began. “I’m afraid I won’t be going through right now, after all. I’m really sorry, Tom. One day I will, but not now. I can’t tell you how sorry I am to have misled you like this.”
“But why?” he asked, looking hurt, betrayed, and confused at the same time. “Please, Anna! I’m begging you. We need you. The galaxy needs you.”
“I’ll tell you my reasoning,” she said. “And I’ll tell you what just happened here. But that will have to wait. Right now, I need absolute quiet. I have to turn my full attention to Steve Redford, who isn’t actually in Utah, after all.”
62
“Stand your ground!” screamed Shanifrey to the small group of fleeing Tartarian survivors in Albania. “Continue fighting!”
“It’s a massacre, Commander,” replied one of the Tarts in the forest, barely able to speak as she ran, sucking in nothing but the stale, tepid atmosphere of Earth. “If you order us back, we’ll return. But we’ll die, and nothing will change. The clairvoyant will still get through.”
“She’s right,” said Kaitlyn O’Connor, glad that Frey hadn’t yet switched off the Tart-to-English translation program. “We’ve lost this round. Anna found a way to change something, after all. The
US forces are against you, Frey. In her vision, they were on your side. And one of them, along with a Tartarian, shot her dead. That’s not going to happen now.”
“I agree,” said Eldamir Kor. “We can’t compound our losses. Let them escape. We need as many of our people alive as possible.”
Shanifrey’s head looked as if it was about to explode, but he still knew he was getting sound advice. “All parties in Albania,” he announced to his team, “disregard my previous order. Continue retreating to safety.”
He turned to Stinnett and looked ready to rip out the man’s jugular with his bare teeth. “What happened out there?” he demanded. “Tell me how this is possible! How could your men have switched sides?”
The secretary shook his head. “I have no idea. You heard every conversation I had with them. I had no reason to believe they weren’t carrying out my orders as expected.”
“At least now you’re starting to fully understand what you’re up against,” said Kaitlyn. “Why the Vorians have put so much faith in this detective.”
Frey screamed and threw a glass paperweight at the wall, where it shattered into dozens of pieces. He drew a gun and pointed it at Kaitlyn. “You!” he thundered. “This has to be your doing! Stinnett is under my control, but you aren’t!”
“I didn’t betray you,” insisted Kaitlyn hurriedly. “You vetted me, remember? And I was here with you the entire time. You have a right to be furious. You lost most of your people for nothing. But it’s Anna who’s responsible, not me.”
Frey’s gun remained pointed at the Vorian chief scientist. and it appeared that he was slowly squeezing down on the trigger.
“If Kaitlyn is responsible,” said Eldamir urgently, “then we need to interrogate her, not kill her. We need to find out how she did it.”
Frey gritted his teeth and fought himself, just managing to slip his finger from the trigger before the gun went off.
“But we don’t have to keep Stinnett alive!” snapped the irate Tartarian commander. “The US military is on to him, so he’s useless to us.”
“Warning,” said the voice of the stronghold’s AI through the speaker system before Eldamir could reply. “Perimeter alert. Attempted breach of this facility imminent. Defensive armaments being readied and activated.”
“Put the relevant exterior footage on the monitor!” yelled Frey to the AI, and the scenes of a forest in Albania, sent by Tartarians fleeing for their lives, vanished, to be replaced by the factory’s grounds.
Dozens of US commandos were sweeping forward across the lawn toward the front of the facility, with their assault rifles leading the way.
“Impossible!” screamed Frey as spittle flew from his mouth. He had been so close to ultimate victory, and now everything was coming unglued at once. He had been certain Kaitlyn couldn’t have been followed here, but he had missed something yet again. And after he dealt with this attempted incursion, he was going to find out what it was.
He addressed the two Tartarian women in the corners of his office. “Get this Vorian abomination out of my sight!” he barked, gesturing at Kaitlyn. “Take her onto the main factory floor, and shoot her if she even blinks wrong.”
Frey shot the Vorian chief scientist a glare capable of melting lead. “When this is over,” he hissed at her as she was being dragged away, “you’re going to tell me everything. You’ll be begging me for death. But I won’t let you die for a very long time.”
***
Delta Force Captain Damian Hale and twenty-eight Delta Force commandos under his command, in full combat gear, emerged from a small wooded area and charged the massive, rectangular factory. The lawn that surrounded it was dying, and there were only a few cars present in the large concrete lot that abutted the entrance.
The factory appeared to be unprotected, but even so, appearances could be deceiving, and the captain didn’t like the smell of this one little bit.
Hale and his men had been rushed to the site near Bakersfield with no notice and no time to recon the site or to make anything other than the most basic preparations. He was placed under the command of Colonel Stephen Redford, who apparently headed up a secret agency having to do with extraterrestrials, and was tasked with attacking what was purported to be an alien stronghold.
Alien stronghold? Really?
All he had been told was that the secretary of defense, Wilson Stinnett, was inside, and couldn’t be trusted. That the goal was to wipe out all aliens, who had a distinctive appearance he had been shown, and knock out or incapacitate Stinnett, while keeping him alive. And that he and his men should bring dark sunglasses along. That was about it.
But what was an alien stronghold doing within a baked goods factory near Bakersfield, California, of all places? What were the aliens’ capabilities? Their strengths and weaknesses?
And most important of all, why the rush? Why not surround and surveil the stronghold from afar and attack any aliens leaving its confines? Why not take more time to study what they might be up against and prepare contingencies if the operation went sideways?
Why charge the building in broad daylight when they were sure to be seen coming?
Hale didn’t have the answers to any of these questions, since there had been no time for a proper briefing. He just hoped that this idiot in command, this Colonel Stephen Redford, now advancing toward the factory next to him, had a reason for rushing headlong into an unknown situation, other than sheer incompetence.
***
Steve Redford had maintained constant communication with Anna for several minutes now, ever since she no longer needed to focus on orchestrating and surviving the mother of all battles in the heart of Albania.
“Still no visions or hunches that might help me?” he asked her subvocally as he rushed toward the factory with Captain Damian Hale at his side, and a large contingent of Delta Force soldiers under his command.
“None,” said Anna apologetically.
Redford didn’t reply. Her abilities were as frustrating as they were extraordinary.
Anna’s intuition had indicated that he should let Kaitlyn leave the Vors’ Utah compound with Wilson Stinnett, as long as he had her followed to her final destination. Then, despite putting a crack military team on the job of following her, as well as commandeering a satellite to assist in this regard, the Vorian chief scientist had managed to shake all tails and disappear.
And finally, just three hours earlier, Anna had a vision of the secretary of defense killing himself—at Shane Frey’s command—in a baked goods factory turned Tartarian nest just outside of Bakersfield, California. The vision had only lasted seconds, as usual, but Anna had known it had taken place in the near future, just minutes after the battle in the Albanian forest had ended.
Redford knew he couldn’t complain—this knowledge was priceless—but couldn’t her clairvoyance have given him just a little more time? A little more insight as to what to do? The fact that he had managed to get Hale and so many Delta Force commandos onto the playing field in time was a miracle, but he didn’t want to push his luck.
But given that Stinnett’s death was imminent, he had no other choice but to charge headlong at the factory in broad daylight, having no idea what he was up against, in order to make sure that the future Anna had seen didn’t come to pass.
Her vision had been startling in more ways than one. It was the first time she had seen a future that she, herself, wasn’t present in. Neither she nor Redford had known that this was even possible, although, given all that was looming, they didn’t have the luxury of exploring the implications further.
What did this mean? Was this a rare occurrence? Or would it become commonplace as her powers grew?
If he survived this misguided raid, maybe he would find out.
All of this flashed through his mind in an instant as he and his Delta Force contingent rushed toward the factory’s entrance.
Redford was surprised they hadn’t encountered any resistance as they crossed the grass field. But as the three
forwardmost commandos crossed an imaginary line about fifteen yards from the building, bright red lasers flashed into existence and cut them down instantly.
One moment the soldiers were charging ahead, and the next, quarter-sized holes were neatly drilled through their foreheads, hearts, and testicles—in the blink of an eye—and the men toppled to the ground, dead on arrival. The lasers had shot out from stainless steel soccer-ball-like structures on tripods that had emerged from the roof, piercing the most advanced body armor known to science to reach the soldiers’ hearts as if the armor wasn’t even there.
“All forces halt!” screamed Redford as loudly as he could, noting that Hale was doing the same. Not that they needed to. The commandos in the lead were already screeching to a stop. The soldier farthest ahead finished braking just beyond the laser threshold, and three holes were drilled into his right foot before he threw himself backwards, screaming, pulling his mutilated foot back to the safe side of the imaginary line.
Redford couldn’t help but marvel at a laser technology the likes of which he had never dreamed of, with a combination of power, speed, and accuracy that was breathtaking.
“All forces,” he shouted, “concentrate fire at the tripods on the roof and take them out!”
Automatic fire burst forth from more than twenty assault rifles, but not a single round made it to the targets, as the bullets were each slowed by some kind of force field and then nearly vaporized by thousands of precisely guided laser strikes in a dazzling ballet of red light.
It was absolutely astonishing.
“Cease firing!” yelled Redford. No use wasting ammunition when it was clear that the lasers could stop the barrage of bullets indefinitely.
“Recommend launching grenades at the roof!” said Hale. “Maybe they’re big enough that one will get through.”
“Do it,” said Redford. But less than twenty seconds after the captain issued the order, it became clear that this attempt, too, was futile.
Oracle Page 36
