“Topaz Control here. We have word of an ingress.” The message from ground control was disrupted by the strange electronic effects caused by the close proximity of a portal but they were still clear and decisive.
“Roger that. Selecting AIM-120 now.” If angels came through, Slocombe wanted to be sure he could start getting hits early. That meant missiles, he could shift to the AIR-120 later. “Confirm that Topaz, we have visual on ingress. Ready for missile shot. Fox-… Hold that Topaz, there is something wrong here.”
Slocombe looked carefully at the figure that had just come through the portal. Despite being clearly an angel, and thus a perfectly legitimate target, it was falling through the sky under the portal, frantically beating its wings in an effort to brake its descent. And, it was malformed somehow. It was the wrong shape, it wasn’t the perfect humanoid that had marked the other angels that had afflicted Earth. As he analyzed the shape in front of him, it suddenly snapped into focus. “Topaz, figure is two angels, one appears to be carrying the other and attempting to fly for them both. Am holding fire.”
“Acknowledged Oscar-One.” There was a pause on the radio. “Sensors indicate portal is closing.”
Slocombe took his attention off the falling angels for a second. “Confirm that Topaz. Portal is closed. Say again, portal is closed. Whatever we just got is all that there is.”
The F-22 climbed a little as Slocombe completed another circuit. “Topaz, hostiles just landed on I-270, almost on top of Old Georgetown Road interchange. Confirm, two angels, one laying on road, other standing. Request instructions. Over.”
There was a long, long pause on the radio channels while Slocombe imagined messages running up and down the command chain. Eventually, the radio broke silence. “Oscar flight is to remain circling area. Ground forces closing in to assess situation. For your information, alert is being cancelled.”
Police Cruiser Adam One-Two, I-270, Bethesda.
One of the small advantages of gasoline rationing was that the roads were clear and people who wanted to drive at high speeds could do so. The previous night, Officer Peter Malloy had been in a high-speed pursuit of a Corvette whose owner had obviously decided to blow his month’s fuel ration on a really fast run. The race had topped 170mph before the ‘Vette had gotten clean away. In the secrecy of his soul, Malloy was looking forward to a rematch. In the meantime, this race along I-270 would have to do. “What’s going on?”
Beside him. Jim Reed was listening to the scanner. “Two angels down just ahead of us. They’re not doing anything, just standing on the Interstate. Well, one of them is standing, the other is laying down. Army and Marine ground forces are moving in but we’re way ahead of them. Nobody seems to realize we’re here yet.”
“Good, let’s keep it that way. If we can bring them in alive…” Malloy’s eyes were sparkling with delight at the prospect.
“Or get killed in the attempt?” Of the two, Reed was the more realistic. Or pessimistic depending on how one looked at such things.
“So? We go to Hell. You think they don’t need cops in Hell?” Malloy hit the brakes on the Crown Vic cruiser. “OK, we’re there. Get ready.”
He reached under his seat and pulled out one of his most loved possessions, a Pfeifer-Zeliska. 600 Nitro Express Magnum revolver. Malloy was a cop partly because he liked it and partly because it had annoyed his parents who believed that their money should insulate their only child from such mundane lifestyles. When they had finally died in an auto wreck, he had become a very wealthy cop and had invested USD17,000 in an example of what was truly the most powerful handgun ever made. ‘Malloy’s Cannon’ was a legend in his local police station and had caused him to be at the top of the “must call” list if there had been a Baldrick berserker raid. Sadly, in Malloy’s eyes at least, the opportunity to fire the piece had never emerged.
“Do you want a hand carrying that thing?” Reed’s question was a mixture of envy and genuine curiosity. A handgun that weighed just under 14 pounds was quite a load after all. And it made his. 500 Smith and Wesson look positively feeble.
“Just watch those two.” Malloy walked up to where the two angels were stretched across one of the Interstate 270 carriageways. For a moment, he was stopped by the sheer beauty of the one who was standing. Then his training kicked back in “Freeze, you are under arrest.”
I-270/Old Georgetown Road interchange, Bethesda, Maryland
Lemuel-Lan looked at the two humans in blue walking towards him. They’d emerged from a car that had strange red-and-blue flashing lights on its roof, lights that reminded Lemuel of some of the shows in Michael’s nightclub. That connection made him blink, the truth was that the rapid changes had left him bewildered. He remembered taking Maion through the portal to Earth that he and Michael-Lan had generated. They had emerged in mid-air and had fallen towards the ground below that seemed all too close and solid. He’d beaten his wings with all the strength he could muster and filled his flight sacs to bursting point in an effort to break the fall, yet Maion had still screamed with pain and passed out when they struck the road.
Now, these two humans were facing him. It occurred to him that their very presence meant that the aircraft overhead weren’t going to rain destruction down upon them but they both had drawn guns and seemed very determined. And hostile, Lemuel reminded himself of that. These are not the meek and docile servants I knew in Heaven. These are the killers who destroyed The Eternal Enemy’s Army with contemptuous ease, stormed his fortress, killed him and installed their own puppet in power. And now they will do the same thing to Heaven and that is the only way to save us from a madman.
Lemuel moved to place himself between the humans and Maion’s gravely-injured body. “Don’t kill us I beg you. Maion is terribly injured, she needs your help.” As if in answer, there was a thunderous crash and a brilliant flash of lightning.
Police Cruiser Adam One-Two, I-270, Bethesda.
“I said freeze sucker.” The standing angel had tried to step sideways and Malloy decided it was time to fire a warning shot. For the first time since he had bought the piece, he squeezed the trigger on the Pfeifer-Zeliska.
It took a second for Reed to clear the after-images from his eyes and shake the ringing noises out of his ears. When he had managed it, he looked around for his partner. Malloy was laying flat on his back on the ground, staring up at the F-22s circling overhead. Behind the two angels, little bits of concrete were still falling off the flyover where the. 600 bullet had plowed into the cement. “Too much gun?” Reed asked sympathetically.
Malloy climbed to his feet, also trying to shake the ringing noises from his ears. His hat had gone somewhere backwards and there was a red gash in his forehead where the recoiling pistol had hit him. “Nahh, just right,” he mumbled. Then, in a stronger voice he addressed the lead angel. “When I say freeze you don’t move. Not a muscle, you understand? Now kneel down and put your hands behind your head. Jim, call dispatch, tell them we have two angels in custody. You, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in athe court of law. You have the right to talk to a lawyer and have him present with you while you are being questioned. If you cannot afford to hire a lawyer one will be appointed to represent you before any questioning if you wish one. Do you understand each of these rights I have explained to you?” Lemuel nodded. “What’s your name?”