Armageddon?? (23 page)

The
rest of her team followed, wincing and grunting as they crossed the fire. Then
the woman jumped into the coffin, grabbed the lid, and swung it back on. It
fell on with a dull clank, and what little light there was vanished, save that
cast by the flickering flames above. There was a flare, and more light: the
woman was holding a torch, one she'd obviously picked up from the stash Kim
could see on the fourth step.

She
descended and brushed by them, then took the lead. They followed her for what
seemed like miles -before the tunnel opened into a room. As they stepped into
the cave, Kim realized that her feet didn't hurt anymore. The room was well-lit
by torches ensconced in the wall, and there were some chairs and a sleeping pad
in the corner. She sat down, and gestured to some chairs. “Please, sit.”

For
the first time, Kim began to relax, and felt the adrenaline slowly draining out
of her. She recognized the signs, end-of-patrol-itis, something that had killed
more soldiers than most other mistakes. Assuming that the danger was over
because they were about to re-enter their base, the getting ambushed when their
guard was down. Kim kicked herself hard, mentally, danger was never over down
here, she could never let her guard down. Especially with this woman.

“Anyway,”
continued Rahab, “you need to tell me about this 'Message' and everything
that's happened since.”

And
they did. They told her about the Message, and the peoples' death, the
declaration of war on Hell and Heaven – “Mmm, Yahweh's in on this, too?” wondered
Rahab out loud – and the opening of the Hellgate in the wastes of western Iraq.
When they were done, the woman sat for a long time in silence. Then she said,
“If you will excuse me, I will be gone for a couple of days. I will be back to
take you to our leader.” Then Rahab stood and exited the room.

“What
do you think ell-tee?”

Kim
looked around at the room. “We’re like rats in a trap here and I don’t like it.
And I don’t trust that woman, her main priority appears to be keeping out of
the way of the guards and not getting caught.”

“I
can understand that ell-tee.”

“So
can I, but Uncle Sugar doesn’t pay us to sit around. She must guess that and
knows we are set on stirring things up around here. That could easily mean
things get pretty precarious for people who just want to keep their heads down.
I’d say it’s a fifty-fifty bet she’s arranging to turn us in right now. If she
isn’t actually part of the security system.”

There
were nods. A fake “resistance movement” that drew in likely recruits so they
could be quietly killed was a tactic as old as the hills. The Company had been
running similar things Iraq before The Message had come through. And Satan was
known as being the Prince of Lies.

“Yeah,
ell-tee, and she’s pretty bitter about Yahweh sending her down here. That could
easily translate into her working with the other guy.”

“So
let’s get the hell out of here.” McInery spoke decisively.

Kim
agreed, it was against the grain to stay in one place under these
circumstances. They made their way back up to the surface and out. Then, they
moved as fast as they could to put as much ground between them and the hiding
hole as possible. A few hours later, well concealed from any observers on the
walls towering high above them, they came to a stop.

“What
next ell-tee?”

“First
priority, find a way of attacking and killing one of those big baldricks on a
rhinolobster. An IED should do it. They’re supposed to be so invulnerable,
taking one down will be a real blow.”

“That
bridge. Now if we could blow it under a baldrick column.”

Kim
laughed at that one. “We’ll need something more than gunpowder to do that. What
did you think of that column by the way?”

“They
were marching out ell-tee. Being pulled out of here, for something else. The
only thing I can think of that would warrant that kind of movement is fighting
us.”

“Agreed.
A sign our boys are doing well back there?” Then her face froze. There was a
voice playing in her head.

“Hello,
is this Lieutenant Jade Kim? Hello, hello.”

“What’s
the matter ell-tee?”

“Got
voices in my head. Sound like us, human. Hold one.”

“This
is Kim. Identify.

“I’m
kitten. I’m in the Pentagon. I’ve been asked to try and find you.”

“Authenticate
two-eight-six” Kim snapped the numbers out.

There
was a long pause and Kim was about to give up when the voice came back. “Sorry,
we took some time to find the security number from the night you were shot
down. Authentication is two-oh-five.

Jade
Kim tried to stop herself cheering. “Guys, we’re through. Somehow, the brass
have found a way to get word through to us. I think we’re back in the Army.”

Headquarters,
Randi Institute of Pneumatology, The Pentagon, Arlington, VA

There
was no restraint in the laboratory, the cheering could be heard outside the
doors and all down the corridor. Randi stuck his head around the corner,
beaming at the sight of his staff dancing up and down.

“I
take it something worked?”

“kitten
got through to those helicopter pilots. They’re on the line now.”

“How
solid is the contact?”

“Very
Sir.” kitten spoke respectfully. “It’s comfortable to hold and there’s no
fade.”

“Ask
her where she is and what her situation is.”

kitten’s
eyes defocused while she “spoke” with Kim. “She says she’s in the fifth circle
of hell, she and her unit have escaped from captivity. They’ve started to set
up a resistance, they’ve already killed a baldrick. The resistance is called
the Popular Front for the Liberation of Hell. She says they need supplies if we
can get them to her.”

“Is
there a resistance already? Escaped prisoners and so on?”

Another
long pause. “Yes, but Kim says she doesn’t trust them. Their main priority is
keeping their heads down and avoiding recapture. Her plan is to keep them at
arms length until she and her unit have stirred things up enough so that they
don’t have any choice about joining the insurgency. She also says there are
signs of major troop movements out of hell itself, suggesting more forces are
being readied for the invasion of earth. She’s asking how well the Army is
doing up here.”

“That’s
my girl.” General Schatten had entered the room quietly. “Tell her we’re
kicking ass and taking names, we’ve won the first two battles big-time. Then,
kitten, find out what Kim’s supply priorities are please. Tell Kim we can’t
promise we’ll get stuff through to her but if its possible, we will.”

One
again, kitten’s eyes defocused. “First priority is webbing so they can carry
stuff. Then, she wants C-4 explosives, or better if we can send it, M-24
claymores, AT-4 anti-tank rockets and radios. Detonators or as many types as
possible. She says an M82A1 .50 sniper’s rifle would be nice as well.”

Schatten
finished writing the list on a pad. “Can we get back through to her any time?”

“I
think so, Sir. It should be easier to reopen the link than it was to find her.”

“Very
well, tell her we’ll be back in touch. We don’t want to keep this link open all
the time, it’s a security risk.”

“Very
good Sir.” kitten’s eyes blanked out again, then returned to life. “She’s gone
Sir. I wished her luck on your behalf.”

“Thank
you kitten.” Schatten’s voice was kindly. “I just hope we can send her a bit
more than good luck.”

(Note
of thanks to Surlethe who contributed the first part of this section).

Chapter
Seventeen

Headquarters,
Army of Abigor, Western Iraq.

It
had been dusk when the flier had arrived. Abigor had been standing outside his
tent, basking in the last rays of the setting sun when the flier had staggered
in. A very badly wounded flier, its body dreadfully burned along one side, its
damaged wing causing it to fly unevenly. As it approached, Abigor saw that it
had lost an eye from the same burns that affected the rest of its body.

“Your
Excellency, I bring word from General Merafawlazes.”

Abigor
looked at the battered flier. Was this the best Merafawlazes could send to
bring news of his victory? It was insult. Abigor paused for a second, a
deliberate insult? Was this Merafawlazes’s attempt at deposing him? “What
word?” His voice was curt and irritable.

“Sire,
terrible news. The Army of the North has been defeated. It is in full retreat
heading south. The enemy are pursuing it in their Iron Chariots. They move fast
sire, faster than the swiftest Beast. As our infantry run, they are being
crushed by the Chariots. It is a disaster, Merafawlazes says beware of the fire
lances and the Iron Chariots for our forces are helpless against them.

“Defeated?”
Abigor was stunned by the news. “How?”

“The
humans have terrible magic sire. They cause the ground to erupt and swallow our
infantry whole, their fire lances tear them apart. They can call up thunder at
will and their breath leaves nothing but the dead where they breathed. In the
sky, their fire lances seek us out no matter how much we twist and turn. One
touch from them is death Sire. One passed close to me, did not even hit me and
look what its fire did.”

Abigor
listened in shocked disbelief. There was no way this story could be faked, no
Duke would admit to so crushing a defeat. No demonic army had been defeated,
not since That defeat, the one before time had properly begun. Abigor had been
at that battle and known defeat then. He remembered its taste and suddenly,
after countless eons, his mouth was filled with it again.

“Come
to my tent, tell me all that you know.” He saw the flier hesitate. “You have
nothing to fear.”

That’s
what they all say the flier thought, before they kill the bringer of bad news

An
hour later, Abigor was trying to absorb the flier’s description of the battle.
He had his own battle plan market out on his map, in essentials it was simply a
larger repeat of Merafawlazes’s attack. Cavalry first to break up the enemy
line, then the infantry in a thick mass to swarm over the wreckage and finish
the enemy off. He had his 28 infantry legions in a huge block, seven legions
wide, four deep, the ranks massed tight and deep. By all that was traditional
it should have been invincible. Merafawlazes had thought that, now Merafawlazes
Army was dead or running.

“They
hid behind the hill you say?” Abigor’s voice was thoughtful.

“Sire,
they did. They were lined up behind the ridge where they could not be seen by
our force. Only after our army had been almost destroyed by their magic and we
fliers slaughtered by their Sky-Chariots did they venture over the crest and
charge us. Even then they did not dare to fight in honorable hand-to-hand
combat but let loose their fire-bolts at us from a distance. Only when our
comrades lay wounded and helpless did they close on us and then they crushed
the wounded under their chariots.” The wounded flier dropped back to his knees
again, still not quite sure he could believe the fact he was alive and uneaten.

Abigor
thought the information over. He had to change plans, his original was an open
invitation to a massacre by the human mages. His mind mulled the information
over. His original front was over a mile long with the ranks extending almost
two miles backwards. If he lined his legions up in single row, they would form
a front almost five miles long. His mind chewed away, the human magic
slaughtered by area, why stop at lining up his legions side by side. There was
no need for the legions to maintain their block, 81 ranks deep. Suppose each Legion
formed three blocks 27 ranks deep? And those blocks were lines side by side?
Why, that meant a front approaching 15 miles wide! Abigor stared at his map,
with a front like that, he could extend beyond the range of the human mages and
their magic, envelop their flanks and roll them up. It was brilliant. It was
also, of course against every concept of demonic warfare. Battles were decided
by massive blows aimed at the center of the enemy force, the two masses
colliding and slugging it out. This idea of thinning his lines and enveloping
the enemy was, wrong somehow. Yet the humans were wrong, they didn’t fight like
warriors, they lacked the spirit to close in to hand-to-hand combat range. That
hadn’t always been the case, there had been examples in the past when humans
fought demons hand-to hand. They’d always lost of course.

He
wrote the new orders down on parchment and then added another thought. The
enemy mages had to be on that ridgeline. If they could be prevented from
casting their spells, that would be a major part of the enemy’s defense gone.
So he added another line, ordering all the infantry to keep firing their
tridents as rapidly as they could recharge them. It didn’t matter if they hit
anything, just to keep that ridge crest under continuous fire. Then, he turned
his attention back to the flier still cowering in a corner.

“You,
what is your name?”