“I will go to the Eternal City and confront Yah-yah. I cannot believe that he knows what goes on here. He has been mislead by bad advisors and tricked by Belial. Once he knows what is happening here, he will make things right. You, on your part, tell the humans of this. Beg for their aid in treating these wounded. Humans are very strange, they will kill without mercy yet present them with a scene like this and they will go to unimaginable lengths to aid the sick and wounded. Bring the humans here and try to save these people.”
“Michael-Lan, it won’t work. The All-Seeing must know what goes on here.” Suddenly all the pieces that Michael-Lan had so painstakingly crafted fitted together in Lemuel’s head. “Michael-Lan, he doesn’t just know, he planned this. He knew there were those who opposed him so he used us to catch them. He used Azreal to cerate the terrorist movement so he would have an excuse for this. Michael, remember I asked if Azrael’s treason went so high? Well, it didn’t, it started so high there is nowhere higher. Yahweh was behind the bombings, I am sure of it and he did it all to justify creating this place to punish those who were questioned him.”
“I greatly fear you might be right.” Michael-Lan put exactly the right amount of doubt and anguish into his voice. Well done Lemuel, you put it all together. Now, lets see if you can make the obvious final jump. His face settled into an expression that combined grandeur, nobility and offended honor. Michael was quite proud of the expression, it was one he practiced in front of a mirror often. “What should I do?”
Lemuel summoned up his strength and, as he looked down at Maion moaning in the mud, his mind was made up. “Michael-Lan, Yahweh knew all of this and knew it well. He is no longer fit to reign in Heaven. You, you Michael, must depose him and take over the throne. Then, you must make peace with the humans somehow. I do not know how you can do this or when you will achieve it but it is your duty to the whole of the Angelic Host to make sure that what we see around us now will never happen again.”
“Lemuel, my old friend, I ought to strike you down for the words you have just said. But while my head tells me to do that, my heart says that you are right. Bring the humans, bring their armies for without them we cannot depose Yahweh. I will do what I can Lemuel, I will oppose Yahweh, I will try and prevent this atrocity from happening again. Yes, my old friend, I will attempt to remove him from power. Your words convince me of the need for this and for that I thank you.” The poets were right, the power of love will achieve wonders. When used and steered properly of course. Michael gazed at Maion on the ground. “But first, we must see to your beloved. Be brave Maion, soon you will be on Earth and your wounds will be cured.”
Michael and Lemuel reached down and lifted Maion, trying to disturb her shattered wings as little as possible. Once she was lifted, the two combined their power and pushed through a portal to Earth. Then, Lemuel took a firm grip on Maion and took her through the black ellipse.
Behind them, Michael-Lan watched the ellipse close behind them. Well, we are truly into the end-game now. He thought. The humans won’t just send aid although they surely will send that. They will send their armies as well and the first thing they see will be this nightmare. They’ll see the angelic host as the victims here just as the dead suffering in Hell were the victims there. And that will preserve the host for they will forgive us.
Michael-Lan started to move away, to return to the Eternal City where the next stage of the complex scheme would take place. As he did, he saw the hellish conditions in the camp around him and one last thought popped into his mind. I wonder if I’ll ever forgive me.
Chapter Sixty One
Washington DC Air Defense Interception Zone Command Center, Andrews Air Force Base, Washington DC, United States
In another city in the United States, the sudden wailing of an alert siren caused the staff to make a panic-stricken transition from the sleepy ambiance of an over-heated room at 3 am to the urgent activity of an operations center that faced an imminent, city-destroying threat. Nobody had forgotten the sights as the western side of Manhattan had been pounded by rocks falling from a portal in the sky. Nobody wanted to see the same thing happening in Washington.
“The DIMO(N) net is picking up data from the cell phone system now. We’re getting increasing numbers of towers dropping off the network.” Sergeant Manuel Oporto made the report in crystal clear English. At a very basic level, it was a sign of just how uncoordinated the US government was that he had been drafted by the United States Air Force and promoted several times without anybody seemingly being aware that he was actually an illegal immigrant. “The spectrum analyzer is showing a broadband hump peaking in the low gigahertz. The data is partial at this time but it’s filling in fast. I’m going to call it Sir. We have a portal forming over Bethesda, Maryland. Confidence is high, say again, confidence is high for portal opening over Bethesda, Maryland.”
Even through the thick walls of the command center, the sirens wailing outside could be heard. Yet even they were drowned out by the howl of F-22s firing up their engines and moving to take off. Oporto could envisage the scene in Washington itself, with the air raid sirens screaming, the street lights flashing and, something that had been absent from the attack on New York, Marine-One landing at the White House to evacuate the President and his family. The war-room under the White House had been designed to stay functional during a nuclear exchange but nobody was confident of its ability to do so when hit by a rock of effectively unlimited size.
Across the readiness board that dominated the control center, lights were flickering, changing in color as the units they represented came on line. The entire room vibrated as the first of the ready-alert F-22s took off directly over the building, their engines on full afterburner as they clawed for altitude and swung north. Washington was lucky, the stealthy composite structure of the early F-22s made them unsuitable for use in Hell so they had never been fitted with the filters that allowed them to fly in the dust-laden atmosphere of Hell at major cost to their performance. These F-22s went supersonic within seconds of leaving the runway. Around the Beltway, missile batteries and anti-angel guns were coming to full alert as well. Soon, the command center would be swamped with target discrimination work as they tried to distinguish hostile targets from the defensive assets that were pouring into the area.
“Philadelphia and Richmond are on line Sir.” Oporto’s headset was constantly buzzing with updates. A part of his job was to filter out the routine data so that his officer knew what was happening without getting swamped by detail. In Oporto’s private opinion, it didn’t take much to swamp an officer with details. “They confirm a portal forming over Maryland. They’re ready to transfer assets to us if we need them.”
“Very good.” Major Coyote was watching the map display carefully, seeing the red carat defining the area of the newly-developing portal. “Data consistency?”
“The cell-phone system error rates and signal strengths still climbing Sir. We expect ingress any second. Hold that Sir, we have the portal, it’s a little south of Bethesda.” He hesitated slightly as the final data came in. “It’s just a touch west of the I-270/Old Georgetown Road interchange. It’s frozen in place, not moving the way the New York one did.”
“F-22s on scene. They report the portal, no ingress. No rocks.”
“Hold that one Sir, we have radar contact. Single object is transitting the portal. We have an inbound.”
“Well done Sergeant. Send the data to all missiles and gun batteries, prepare to open fire.”
F-22 Lightning “Oscar-One”, Over Bethesda, Maryland.
“We have portal in view.” Captain Joshua Slocombe racked his F-22 around in a tight curve. He guessed that the glaziers would be doing good business tomorrow, replacing all the windows that were being shattered by the passage of the four fighters in Oscar Flight. Out of consideration for the householders below and to try and keep an open firing solution on the portal that hovered a few hundred feet in the air over I-270, he dropped speed to well below transonic. “This is a weird one people, it’s very low down. Rocks won’t pick up that much speed when they come through.”