Overlord Page 35

  “Look, Perry, I need to know what in the hell this fucked-up team is supposed to assault. I haven’t a clue and don’t hand me this ‘need to know’ bullshit. In case these boys or I are captured before the mission sets off, we’ll blow our own damn brains out. Now get me some answers.”

  “Carl, I really don’t know. This shit is so compartmentalized we’ll be lucky to have men that speak the same damn language.” The general, a Marine Corps two-star, the same rank as Everett, helped him slip on a white robe with the NASA emblem embroidered on the breast. “All I know is that the men we were given is all the Army and Navy can spare. The Air Force commando teams have been secured for whatever project is happening with the alien power plant. The rest of the Navy and Army units are off gallivanting around with a general named Collins somewhere in the world.”

  “Collins? You mean Jack Collins?” Carl’s astonishment was written on his face.

  “That’s the scuttlebutt I hear. Do you know him?”

  “Yes, I do know him, and now I wonder what new and inventive way the Army has designed for killing him.”

  “Probably not as inventive as what NASA has planned for you, would be my guess.”

  Everett nodded and smiled briefly at the general as he tossed the man his towel. He heard the argument reconvene on the surface of the pool between the SEALs and Delta teams. He regained his land legs and slowly and deliberately walked to the far end of the giant pool as the men were hoisted from the water.

  As the admiral approached the men still arguing over the finer points of ingress into a sealed target, they noticed the admiral had a very serious scowl on his face. The large, former SEAL took in the men as they were mostly in a state of undress. They turned and halfheartedly stood at attention. Everett saw the sloppiness their basic training was displaying.

  “Is that how the Army teaches you to stand in the presence of your commanding officer?” he asked the young Delta captain in the center of the group. “You assholes have been off in the wilds of Afghanistan far too long. Back in the world you are soldiers again.”

  The man stood ramrod straight, as did his bearded Delta team. Everett turned next to the lieutenant commander leading the SEAL detachment.

  “And the last time I commanded a team, we didn’t start fights with other team members.”

  “I … I…”

  “What, Commander, are you having trouble speaking?” Everett admonished. “This crap has to stop and stop now. Delta, you stay clear of those hatchways until you are called in. SEALs, get that damn hatch open faster, these men are sitting ducks to enemy fire while you play with that explosive. If you don’t work together you’ll all get your asses flamed in the first minute of the assault!” He saw a young SEAL with a blond beard that had yet to see any thickness to it. He was too damn young. “What is it?” Carl asked, making the boy flinch back.

  “I … well, we heard, sir, that this was a one-way mission.”

  “So, aren’t SEALs and Delta used to that? Every time you put on assault gear someone is trying to kill you, both on the enemy side and ours. Now get over it. We have millions of people dying out there and they expect you to do something about it. You want out?”

  The young SEAL looked insulted. “No, sir, of course not.”

  “Do any of you want out?” Everett demanded as he looked from bearded face to bearded face. No one moved or answered. They all looked at their bare feet. “Now get that fucking gear back on and the next man that doesn’t cooperate with his brother—and you are all brothers regardless of pretty uniforms,”—he thought of Jack, Will, and Ryan—“I will personally make sure his life is a living hell, because I will ship all your asses off to military reservation land reclamation. That means you’ll be draining swamps for the rest of your worthless careers. And believe me, gentlemen, it will take approximately a decade to process your resignation requests. Am I getting through to you prima donnas?”

  The two officers leading the assault teams stood rigid and that told Everett they did indeed understand. The two captains were stunned to be dressed down in front of their men.

  “Now, get back in the water. And remember this, you assholes: you’re not going up against a bunch of backward-assed terrorists on this one. These things will have new and inventive ways of killing every one of you. Then after that they will come down here and use the same methods on little Sally and Billy and Mom and Pop, got it?”

  Before the men could answer alarms started sounding throughout the complex. Air Police and NASA security personnel started running and warning men to get to their designated shelters.

  Everett grabbed ahold of the first passing airman he could reach. “What is it?” he yelled over the din caused by the alarms.

  “Houston and the Space Center are under air attack. All of your men must get to the hardened shelters immediately!”

  Carl didn’t know how, but the enemy had discovered the fact that a plan was being worked out, no matter how bad that plan was, and decided to put up a fight.

  The Grays were striking at the heart of the American space program.

  Everett, instead of running for the designated deep shelter for his command, made sure his men were secured and then sprinted for the roof of the large training facility. He had to be witness to the defense of the Center. He had to know the capabilities of what his team was up against firsthand.

  The first explosions rocked him as he struggled to climb the steel stairs. Carl lost his balance and started to fall backward as the loose-fitting robe tangled his legs. He thought he would tumble down the two flights of steps when two large hands grabbed him and pushed him forward.

  “Come on, twinkle toes, don’t want to lose you now,” Jenks said, and ruthlessly pushed him up the stairs.

  The master chief too was climbing to the roof to see what they were up against.

  * * *

  The twisted form of the wormhole had started over the Galveston area. It had snaked and crawled the distance between the island and the outskirts of Houston. This time as soon as the formation of clouds was recognized for what it was the combined strength of the 149th Fighter Wing lifted off the ground. The Air National Guard unit had been brought together in one spot for a combined strength of over forty fighters, eighteen F-15 Eagles, and twenty-two F-16 Fighting Falcons. They would support the ground element made up of the Army’s 3rd Cavalry Regiment.

  Someone had actually planned for the defense of the Space Center, and placed the regiment inside the Center to protect the men being trained there and the experimental craft Jenks and his team were working furiously on. The nickname of the cavalry unit was the “Brave Rifles”; today that name would be put to the test. At last count, ten of the smaller attack saucers had entered the atmosphere and bypassed the civilian population centers of Galveston and Houston and shot straight for the Space Center. The two sides would collide to bring about the largest land engagement on the American continent since the Civil War.

  The first of four saucers spread out and concentrated their laser fire on the mission control center. Blast after blast of the bluish-green light punctured the thickened walls of the building. The high-intensity beams smashed through the cinder block and cascaded through the billions of dollars’ worth of equipment.

  M1 Abrams tanks wound their way through the streets fronting the many buildings of the Center and took up station, hiding themselves the best they could with only their 120-millimeter smoothbore cannons exposed. The saucers were moving too fast for the tanks to traverse their turrets to aim properly, so the Cavalry Regiment opened fire with small-arms and heavy-caliber weaponry.

  Four more of the saucers started attacking the personnel quarters of the Space Center to devastating effect. As Everett and Jenks broke through the roof doors of the training center they saw over a hundred men of the 3rd Cavalry Regiment holding station. They flinched as five man-portable Stinger-B antiaircraft missiles left their launch tubes. The five missiles struck the second saucer as it tried in vain to maneuver
away from the infrared seeker of the small warheads. All five of the missiles struck the aft quarter of the vehicle and sent it wobbling, momentarily out of control. That gave two M1s their chance to lock on the target. As the saucer started to straighten and climb, two sabot rounds struck the craft and sent it spinning into the Interstellar Sciences Building. The depleted uranium rounds penetrated the thin skin of the attacker, ripping out her guts until the dartlike projectile struck its power source. The resulting explosion tore out her entire bow section and the ship cascaded in pieces into the building.

  As Jenks pointed skyward Carl saw three of the saucers strafing the personnel center and family housing located just outside of the training facility. Everett felt helpless as he saw at least eight Stingers track and then lose lock on the fast-flying ships. Before he realized what was happening the logistics center blew skyward as the laser fire hit the main gas lines connecting the underground lines leading to the next. A series of explosions rocked the next building and then the next, until the entire personnel housing area was in flames.

  “Goddamn things are kicking our asses,” Jenks cried as he watched more men on the roof open up with more Stingers and small-arms fire. He heard the Abrams tanks far below open up with their turret-mounted fifty-caliber machine guns. Soon Stingers and tracer rounds stitched the sky in a vain attempt to bring down the remaining alien craft.

  “Get down!” Carl yelled, and pushed the master chief away from the edge of the roof. A line of laser fire burned through the concrete and threw up large chunks that peppered both men. As the saucer rose after the strafing run, they were stunned as two AMRAAM missiles struck the stern section of the vehicle. Two large explosions shook the building as the saucer very quickly lost altitude as it struggled to stay in the air. Before they could mentally wish the saucer to crash, six more of the long-range deadly missiles struck it and sent it spinning crazily into the NASA museum pieces lining the lawn of the flight control building. The remains slid into the welcome center and then came to an abrupt halt.

  Carl leaned over the side of the building and saw at least three surviving Grays as they tried to exit the burning saucer. They were met immediately by heavy cannon fire from six M1s. The HE—high explosive—rounds were different from the dartlike sabot shots as these large, armor-piercing rounds blew the craft to pieces. The Grays were caught as they struggled free of the wreckage. Heavy weaponry from fifty-caliber rounds to grenades dispatched them with a vengeance only shocked and angry soldiers could provide.

  Two Abrams and three Bradley Fighting Vehicles broke cover as their gunfire and cannon discharges brought them unwanted attention from two low-flying saucers. Before the five vehicles could find more cover, laser fire started to take them out. A Bradley Fighting Vehicle took a direct hit in its personnel compartment and the tracked machine careened into the side of a building as the men tried to scramble free over the now-exposed rear ramp. One of the Abrams tried to turn sharply to give the men cover fire, but it too was struck in its hind quarters and immediately exploded, with a force that tore her turret free from the armored chassis.

  “Damn it!” Everett cursed. He felt helpless as he watched with nothing more than a bathrobe on. Jenks stood and with his cigar clenched in his teeth shook an angry fist at the climbing saucers that had killed at least thirty men with the two strikes.

  He didn’t have long to curse as the cannon fire from an F-16 Falcon connected solidly with the domed upper section of the lead saucer, damaging it just enough that it slammed into the grassy front lawn of the Sciences Building. Everett flinched as at least five Sidewinder missiles slammed into the metal body of the saucer. The resulting explosion once more knocked the men down. They ducked again when an F-15 Eagle slammed nose-first into the guard post at the front gate. Everett looked up and saw the pilot’s chute as it billowed three hundred feet above their heads.

  Jenks once more screamed in anger as one of the remaining enemy craft slammed into the pilot as he tried desperately to get to the ground. A red mist marked the spot of the Air Force pilot as his chute fell free and gently floated to the ground, twisting inside out and then coming to rest on the museum grounds.

  Everett cursed as loud as the master chief and pulled him away from the wall. As he did he was amazed to see the saucer that had slammed into the building slowly start to rise, even as an AMRAAM missile struck it again. It wobbled, fell back to the earth, and then with its entire aft quarter still aflame it started to rise again.

  Three hidden M1s added their firepower to the assault on the damaged vehicle. Carl grimaced as the saucer returned fire, striking the first charging Abrams. The cannon was cleanly sliced away as the beam adjusted and then bit into the frontal armor of the heavy tank. The beam punctured and passed by the driver and impacted the ammunition storage area in the back. Carl pushed Jenks down hard as the Abrams blew up, heavily damaging the second and third M1s close by. Three tanks had been knocked out of commission by a single laser of the enemy.

  Everett gained his feet and again started pushing Jenks back toward the roof door as men continued to fire at the downed saucer. Again it rose and to everyone’s amazement it was starting to scab over with new material. Finally at full power once again the fires were extinguished and the vehicle shot back into the air. As Carl pushed Jenks through the door he turned and counted a total of five saucers still in the air, striking every building more than once. Every ship they thought they had destroyed had regenerated and risen to fight again.

  A second squadron of navy fighters joined the fray from the naval air station at Galveston. The FA-18 Super Hornets came in low and were carrying heavy ordnance. Several of the armored cavalry units started lasing the saucers from the grassy area just below Carl and Jenks. Everett had to watch the men below as they braved the low-flying craft as they used the large laser designators to paint the saucers that flew low to the ground, and then Hornets let loose their laser-guided weapons. As the lone alien vehicle hovered near the smoking ruin of the flight control building, eight 500-pound bombs struck it directly on the top. The bombs traveled from the just-regenerated stern area to the center dome and then the undamaged front section. The saucer evaporated, taking one of the Hornets with it. The jet had come in too low after load release, and the blast slammed it into the earth, creating a massive fireball.

  Two more saucers launched a withering barrage of light at the main training center, the first of which struck next to Everett and Jenks. The concrete and gravel roof burst open like an eggshell and peppered both men. Carl saw the ground personnel of the 3rd Cavalry Regiment take heavy losses as the laser cannons blew them apart.

  SAM batteries finally found their targets and at least five of them started streaking after the remaining five saucers as they tried to climb and evade the fast missiles. Two of them didn’t make it—the large warheads struck and blew them apart, turning them into falling debris. The power of the ships must have been decreasing rapidly after the attack because the powerful warheads of the SAMs hit hard enough that two of the alien craft couldn’t regenerate and fell in pieces to the ground. The mission control building was completely destroyed, taking over a hundred of the Armored Cavalry infantry units with it. The resulting explosions once more knocked Everett from his feet, skinning his bare legs against the steel doorway. The master chief was once again lying across him.

  Still the saucers attacked.

  Carl sat up and realized he wasn’t hurt, then assisted Jenks to his feet. Immediately they were knocked down again as a tremendous explosion ripped through the training center. The roof gave way and Carl found himself flying in midair. He struck the steel stairwell and his head hit the steps with a bone-jarring impact. All went dark as the carnage raged around him. The last thing his conscious mind picked up was the sound of streaking jet fighters and the boom of cannon fire from the remaining Abrams tanks.

  The Johnson Space Center had been totally knocked out of commission and the men who would assist in the combined efforts of Ope
ration Overlord were either dead, scattered, or buried alive in the rubble of America’s only advanced center for space exploration. The training center with all of the alien mock-ups was destroyed, and the only hope of salvaging the precious training records was seriously dashed.

  The one thing that went right for the entire planet was the fact that it was Houston and the Johnson Space Center that were hit, and not the main Overlord base in the south, in Antarctica. Garrison Lee’s plan to use the world’s communications satellites to keep the aliens guessing had worked. They had tracked the heavy radio and satellite traffic to the wrong base by listening in on radio calls from the military. There was almost no electronic communication engaged at Overlord; it was all done by old-fashioned dialing.

  The obsolete landlines of the old AT&T phone system had saved the world for the time being.

  PART THREE

  UNYIELDING FORCE

  I believe in one thing only, the power of the human will.

  —Joseph Stalin

  12

  HALLEY VI RESEARCH STATION

  ANTARCTICA

  LAT. 75°35'S, LONG. 26°39'W

  Will Mendenhall nudged Jack awake as the LC-130 Hercules made a wide turn to lose altitude. Collins awoke suddenly, feeling as if his entire body was still back at Christchurch, New Zealand, where they had hurriedly exchanged aircraft from the relative comfort of the C-5A Galaxy to the cramped confines of the ski-equipped Hercules. Jack looked at Will as if he didn’t know who he was, then slowly he came awake. He looked from the captain to a slumbering Henri Farbeaux, who was stretched out across two of the foldable airliner seats just aft of the cockpit.

  “I hate to tell you this, but the base they’ve sent us to isn’t much of a going concern.” Will stepped back so Collins could sit up and look out of the small window.