INTERDICTION ZONE
DETROIT, MI
11 NOV 2011, 00:30 EST
The AC-130 soared through the night sky, headed towards its station northwest of Detroit. It joined several others in orbit well above a ribbon of darkness. The flying mass of demons was highlighted against the snow that glowed in the light of the full moon.
“Are we trying to dam a river?” asked the fire control officer. “How are we even supposed to affect that?”
“Light it up as we cross over it and let’s see,” replied the pilot. “We’ve got some special new shells.”
“Will do.” He watched through the various targeting systems. “What are we shooting at, anyway? It looks like I imagine the passenger pigeons once did. So thick all I can see is wings.”
“Then the shot should be easy. Heck, each bullet might take out more than one.”
As the aircraft passed over the river of black, the guns opened up, aimed upriver. The gatling gun chattered away in long bursts, while the Bofors added a steady thump-thump. Even the 105 got in its licks.
Tense seconds went by as they watched to see the results. Tears appeared in the stream below where creatures died by the thousands. The 105mm shells made a much greater impact, each bright flash appeared to cut the ribbon in half. The stream wavered, unsettled and unsure, and a great black lake started to form where it hesitated.
“Come around so we can hit that,” suggested the fire control officer.
“Breaking pattern.”
The big gun opened up again, firing as fast as it could, tearing the lake to shreds. The remaining demonic forces roiled, and a substantial number of them arced up higher into the sky. “Shit, they did not like that. Going evasive.”
They called out to the other forces in the area, and the other gunships focussed their fire on the fast-approaching wave of monkey-demons. The wave was rapidly dismantled, with the last few dying close enough that the crew of the AC-130 could feel the chill of the death aura tugging at them.
“That was way too close.”
“I’m picking up some sort of secondary clutter, like they dropped chaff,” called one of the EW techs.
“Weird. Keep away from it.”
“It’s moving toward us! Not as fast as those things, but fast enough. Contact in ten seconds.”
The pilot dove, trying to pick up speed, but only bought them a handful of seconds. Screams from the ammunition bay ended with an awful finality.
“Broadcast everything. They need to know what this is.”
“Already going out.”
There were a few moments of screams as tiny black flecks flew about the cockpit, then the plane went silent until it impacted the ground.
*** *** ***
DUPUIS RESIDENCE
CORNWALL, ON
11 NOV 2011, 01:11 EST
“Madame Secretary!”
Maggie blinked muzzily at the light intruding into the guest bedroom, and vaguely recognized the profile of her bodyguard. “Mike? What?”
“We need to get you to a safe location.”
That got her fully awake and sitting up. “Is there a problem?”
“I’ll explain on the way.”
She was bustled out of the house with barely time enough to throw some clothes on, and no time to ask questions. A military transport helicopter was sitting on the front lawn, and had crushed several flowerbeds. “Mom’s not going to like that.”
Mike chuckled ruefully. “Least of our concerns right now.”
Once they were in the air, Maggie heard the pilot call out something about Air Force One. She turned to Mike. “Did I hear that right? Is the president aboard?”
“The president is dead. He ordered a nuclear strike on Washington to stop... I’m fuzzy on what. But that took out most of the cabinet. The target of the strike, understandably pissed about being nuked for the second time in one night, confronted the president on Looking Glass. The result of that was the destruction of the plane and the death of everyone on board, including the remaining known member of the cabinet other than yourself.”
“Merde. What are we dealing with?”
“To be honest, we haven’t a clue. The military chain of command is in worse shape than the civilian one. There was something of a short civil war among various factions in the government.”
“Who won?”
“Pardon?”
“If you can say it was a short civil war, that implies it is already over. Who won?”
Mike sighed. “Haven’t a clue, all I know is that the worst seems to be over. But that’s not the worst of it.”
“We were attacked by something you could nuke twice and only piss off, the chain of command is shattered, and that’s not the worst of it?”
“We’ve been attacked by some kind of... well...” Mike hesitated, sighed, and forged on. “Some kind of demonic forces. They killed everyone in Atlanta and around Martha’s Vineyard before retreating.”
“Retreating is good. So... we won?”
“Well...”
Maggie swore in French again. When she wound down, Mike shrugged. “Pretty much, yeah. The whole world was screwed six ways from Sunday, then suddenly all the demons just head back to their portals. Unfortunately, they’re all showing up in Detroit and streaming into Canada.”
“Why the hell would they do that?”
“I’m afraid that’s way above my paygrade.”
Maggie’s expression went from incensed to somber. “But not above mine, I suppose.”
“I, ah... suppose not.”
“Find out.”
“Yes, Madame Secretary.”
*** *** ***
HEART OF THE WORLD
MACKENZIE COUNTY, AB
11 NOV 2011, 00:12 MST
“We’ve done what we can,” reported Agent Carson over the crystal link. “The last of the demons left the portal a few minutes ago. We’re trying to modify some ballistic missiles with cobalt linings, but the added weight has caused concerns about targeting. We might get a few away, but it won’t change things by much.”
“How many did you take out?” asked Duncan.
“Our best estimate is between 25 and 30 percent. Unfortunately there are a lot more than the first invasion wave. We think they’ve been using the thantopic magic from their attack to create more. You’re facing somewhere north of two million hostiles.”
“How soon?”
“Our tracking is working well, it looks like you’ve got maybe ten minutes left before the first wave arrives. How are the defences looking?”
Duncan chuckled wickedly. “Dangerous as hell.”
“Good. Good luck, and God bless.”