Armageddon?? (120 page)

“Right
guys. As soon as we give the word, there will be twenty four Tomahawks inbound.
Cassidy, any sight of the target yet?” In just a few seconds, the procession
had become a target.

“Emerging
through the canyon now Sarge. Confirming, baldricks on foot with tridents,
rhinolobsters with, confirmed Sarge, they have nagas coiled on their backs.”

“Saber,
confirm target is volcano-initiating party. Fire when ready.”

“On
the way.”

The
seconds ticked by and turned into minutes. Ten minutes after the launch
confirmation, DeVanzo turned his laser designator to active and trained the dot
on the ground just in front of the column that was advancing across the plain
towards the volcanoes about twelve miles away. McElroy was amused to note that
they’d be passing the ruins of their previous home on the way. If they lived
that long of course.

“Remember
not to shine the laser on the baldricks until after the missiles start to
arrive.” McElroy’s voice was urgent, the baldrick’s skin was sensitive to laser
light and shining it on them might give them enough warning to get clear.

“I
know that” DeVanzo spoke irritably, annoyed at the interruption disturbing his
concentration. He was holding the designation dot just in front of the feet of
the leading baldrick. He’d flip it back as soon as he heard the Tomahawks
making their run.

He
didn’t get that much warning, the first group of three missiles skimmed over the
hill to their east and started the run down towards the column before he could
register their presence. Originally, the Tomahawks had been GPS-guided but the
Global Positioning System didn’t work in Hell and it was looking increasingly
unlikely that it ever would. The older option, radar terrain mapping and
matching required accurate maps of the target area and those would come
eventually, but not now. So, for want of a better choice, the missiles had been
modified to use laser designation.

The
first salvo of three missiles had unitary warheads and the explosion of the 700
pound charges enveloped the head of the column in rolling orange-red fireballs.
Through her binoculars, Cassidy saw the baldricks start running sideways trying
to get away from the onslaught they knew had to come. Word from the survivors
of Abigor’s and Beelzebub’s armies had spread fast, when the humans started
shooting with their missiles, the only way to survive was to run far and fast.
And so they did, or they tried to. Cassidy swung her binoculars back on to the
great Rhinolobsters. They had been abandoned on the track and the magnification
of her binoculars allowed her to see the great beasts swinging their heads
around, looking for an enemy to gore, while the terrified nagas on their backs
screamed and tried to struggle free.

That’s
when the second wave of three Tomahawks hit. DeVanzo had switched his point of
aim back along the column and the three missiles sensed the change of aiming
point and lifted their nose just a little. In a straight line, about 100 yards
between each missile, the three weapons soared straight over the shattering
baldrick column and started to distribute their submunitions. The launching
submarines hadn’t known what the warhead requirements would be so they’d loaded
their eight tubes with four missiles with submunitions and four with unitary
warheads. The skippers had alternated the loads as they’d emptied their tubes
but the spotting team on the ground didn’t know that. Each type came as a nice
surprise.

It
wasn’t so nice for the demons on the receiving end. The first three explosions
had blown the leading demons into unrecognizable chunks of flesh and bone, then
the submunitions had scythed down the others as they ran. The only thing that
saved some of them was that the missiles were too spaced out and the coverage
too thin to blanket the area the way and MLRS salvo would have done. Cassidy
smacked DeVanzo’s arm and pointed to the group of Rhinolobsters. He swung the
laser designation spot on to them and held it there while the third wave of
missiles slammed their unitary warheads into the great beasts. Even far away,
on the hills, McElroy’s team heard the animals screaming as the warheads
blasted them.

DeVanzo
held his designator on the same spot, directing the fourth salvo of missiles so
that their submunitions would cover the area just pounded by the blast of the
high explosive charges. The nagas were the creatures that opened the sky
volcanoes, they were the primary target. The other baldricks were just meat on
the table, footsloggers who found themselves in the target area. Slaughtering
them was a bonus but not really necessary. In his heart, DeVanzo found himself
feeling slightly sorry for them, the war was over but they were still going to
die because their boss was too dumb or too stubborn to admit it. Reflecting on
it as the fourth wave of missiles blanketed the Rhinolobsters, DeVanzo decided
that it was just too bad.

A
group of baldricks were running south, towards where the team had their
position. It wasn’t an attack, the baldricks had no idea what was killing them
let alone where it was being done from, it was just plain bad luck on their
part. DeVanzo designated them and watched the fifth and sixth salvos of
missiles tear into their ranks and send them stumbling into the ground. Then, a
final switch to another group who still seemed to have some level of
organization and it was all over.

McElroy
looked down on the devastation that lay in the valley underneath his position.
“Well, that livened up a dull morning didn’t it.”

Valley
Leading To Palelabor, Tartarus, Hell

Belial
couldn’t quite believe he was still alive. He’d been on the edge of the bombing
that destroyed Satan’s palace, he’d seen the shattered remnants of Beelzebub’s
army retreating from the Phlegethon River but he’d never been under the
relentless hammer of the human war machine before. He was stunned by the
enormity of the attack, but even more so by its impersonal, faceless nature.
The humans didn’t fight, they just stood far away and destroyed their enemies
by remote control. He felt hatred surging, uncontained, within him. The humans
had been his route to greatness, his attacks on them had won him favor with
Satan and now lifted him further than he’d ever dared hope he’d rise. Now, their
machines were tearing him down again.

Around
him, the survivors of his column were picking themselves up and trying to make
sense of the carnage that surrounded them. Some went to help wounded friends
who lay helpless on the ground, their bodies slashed by the deep gouges that
were the marks of human weapons. Not all could be helped for the humans used
iron in their weapons and iron was poison. Enough of his minions had died in
the mines of Palelabor from iron-poisoning to show how deadly that particular
aspect of human weapons was.

Then,
Belial looked at the center of his column, where the Beasts and their Naga
burdens had been caught on the road. They were dead, all of them. Blown apart
then the survivors cut up by the humans. There were no survivors, none. They
were all dead and that meant the attacks on human cities were over for there
were too few nagas left to open the portals. It was over, he would have to
think of a new way to continue this war for it was only by continuing the war
that his rise to power could be confirmed and yet more power gathered into his
claws. He would have to think of a new way, Euryale would help him. Quietly,
Belial gave thanks that she had not been here to fall under the human onslaught
for he needed her support and insight.

“We
will return to Palelabor. Bring along those who can recover.” Belial set off,
unknown to him, watched by Baroness Yulupki who had managed to slide off her
Beast in time to worm her way under the rocks and so protect herself from the
explosions and slashing iron fragments. She would not join the sad procession
back to Palelabor, Belial thought she was dead and it was better that way. Now
she could quietly leave his retinue and find a way to get back into the
changing world of Hell.

Belial’s
column, the healthy and the wounded, the latter supported by other demons,
wended their way though the twisting canyon that led to the valley that was
their final refuge. They’d left barely an hour before, on their way to inflict
another great blow against humans. Now all they needed was shelter. Belial led
the way back, down the valley and then turned to approach the gates that marked
the entrance to Palelabor. Those gates were still closed, and Belial quietly
gave thanks for Euryale’s common sense in closing them as soon as she’d heard
the explosions of the strike that had wrecked his column.

“Open
Up, Your Master Awaits.” His voice boomed out, echoing across the valley.

The
reply was sudden and deadly, a barrage of lightning bolts slashed out from the
firing ports in the walls around the gates, tearing into the survivors of his
column, cutting them down as they stood motionless, in shock. Then, the spell
broke. Some ran, trying to escape from the vicious crossfire, others attempted
to charge their tridents and return fire. Both were futile, there was nowhere
to run to and the demons inside the fortress were behind firing slits,
protected from all but the luckiest of shots. Belial knew what was happening,
there were three demons behind every slit, two charging tridents and the third
firing them. The result was a steady rain of fire that decimated what was left
of his force.

“Euryale!”
His voice echoed again and this time there was hopelessness in it.

Hills
Around The Underground Fortress of Palelabor, Tartarus, Hell

“Team-One
reporting in Sarge. You’re going to love this.” He ought to, Cassidy thought,
she did. “The survivors got back to the fortress and the garrison first slammed
the gates in their face and then opened fire on them. Team-One says it’s a
massacre down there. The baldricks outside are being cut to pieces. There’s a
big one, he must be the Belial we heard about I guess, just standing there and
shouting something.”

McElroy
nodded. “Tell Team-One to watch and report. I’ll radio this in.”

Outside
Palelabor, Tartarus, Hell

“Euryale!”
Belial called again, but there was no answer. For the second time in an hour,
he couldn’t understand while he was still alive. There was no sign of her, she
must have been imprisoned, there must have been some kind of coup while he was
with the column. Then his heart sank for he knew that in hell coups never
involved taking the deposed prisoner, they were always killed. Euryale had to
be dead, She had to be.

The
fire around him slackened and he saw movement on the gallery over the gate,
artfully carved so that it fitted in with the natural contours of the rock.
There was a flash of gold up there, and Belial adjusted his vision for long
distance. It was Euryale, standing on the gallery, her wings folded behind her.

“Euryale,
you’re alive!”

She
looked down at him; Belial wasn’t certain whether he actually heard the words,
read her lips or received a thought transmission but its words were clear.
“Kill him.”

The
warning was just enough. Belial dived for cover as a hail of lightning bolts
slashed at the rocks where he had been standing. He took cover, feeling one
bolt tear into his wing tissue. Not a serious wound for a Grand Duke of Hell,
it took many lightning bolts to kill a Greater Demon. He wormed his way behind
the rocks, sensing the relentless battering of the massed trident fire that was
aimed at him. When he’d got clear enough he took the chance of looking. Euryale
was standing on the gallery still, directing the barrage of fire against likely
hiding places. Beside her was one of his new Great Tridents, a naga strapped to
it. Belial didn’t kid himself that it wasn’t fully charged.

Then
Euryale saw him, she must have had her vision set for long distance as well,
and the Great Trident was aimed straight at him. Again, Belial dived and
rolled, trying to get clear and escape from this murderous ambush. The Great
Trident bolt hit exactly where he had been, shattering rocks and sending
fragments tearing into him. “Euryale!” Belial’s voice was closer to being a sob
than anything else.

Belial
knew there was only one chance, he had to get out of the killing ground before
the Great Trident was recharged. He leaped up to his feet and started running,
ignoring the lightning bolts that hissed around him, paying no attention to the
one that hit his back. He was running from battle, something no Great Duke ever
did and the thought of it shamed him. It was the human’s fault, all the human’s
fault. They’d disrupted his plans, they’d stopped his rise to power, they’d
resisted him, defied him. They’d turned Euryale against him.

At
that point, instinct made Belial dive suddenly to one side and roll over. The
Great Trident bolt again hit exactly where he had been had he not made that
dive. With luck, he’d be out of range before the machine was charged again.
There were more thuds as lightning bolts from normal tridents hit him and he
could feel the injuries taking their toll. He was weakening, slowing but he had
to keep running. There was a point in the hills where the slopes were not so
steep, where he could climb his way out. He dived again, this time around a
fold in the rock and he was, at last, out of the killing zone. He had survived,
somehow.

Belial’s
mind didn’t really appreciate the fact that he had, yet again, survived. It was
too filled with hatred for the humans who had done this thing to him. All he
could think of was revenge, revenge for the destruction, revenge for his fall
when he had so nearly reached the apex of power in hell. Revenge for taking
Euryale from him. It had to be human magic, it had to be human magery, some
unknown power they had that he was not aware of. Had not her handmaiden said
the humans had other weapons they had not used yet?