Authors: Michael Rusch
The setting sun beat hard
against the guardrails surrounding Science Dome 15's lookout station. The rails
were unbearable to touch even through the heat-protected gloves.
Watch Tower paced nervously
about the post. The few men in his charge monitoring the lookout platform
stared intently through their extended range glasses towards Beuford.
It was almost time to end their
shift. They had been out in the sun too long. Mandatory duty relief would be
ordered by the command center within the hour. Yet some feeling seething deep
within Watch Tower's gut made him think that today this would not be the case.
"What do ya got?" he
asked one of the lookouts next to him.
The younger sentry to his right
leaned closer to the rails and adjusted the controls of his glasses. Watch
Tower squinted into the falling sun towards where the lookout aimed his device.
He did not raise his own.
"Tanks and jeeps,
sir," the young sentry answered him. "There’s a lot of them. More
than fifty from what I can see now."
"Fleeing the damaged
area?"
"No, sir," the sentry
said again. "These vehicles are moving together. Some sort of procession
collecting from areas outside and within the undamaged sections of the
town."
"Any word on the airborne
run?"
"It's on its way,
sir."
Watch Tower lifted up his own
glasses and stared at the procession which was just about to breach the
outskirts of Beuford's city limits. He couldn't see where it finally came to an
end, but the direction in which it traveled was more than distinct.
He stepped away from the
platform to the communications transmitter mounted along the wall. Holding his
glasses nervously in his fist, he punched its activation switch. Doing his best
to keep the sand swirling about the air out of his mouth, he leaned his head in
close to the device.
"Dome Leader," he
called to Science Dome 15's command center housed deep within the facility's
protected core. "Reporting visual confirmation on large vehicle procession
heading out of Beuford. Danger interpretation status…extremely high."
"We've been alerted, Watch
Tower," a muffled voice answered back through the transmitter.
Watch Tower leaned in closer to
better hear through the strong bellow of the wind's blowing heat. The back of
his throat was completely dry, and the usual patches of sand that entered his
mouth while on lookout felt even more uncomfortable against his tongue.
"They breached perimeter
alert zones about ten minutes ago. They're still a safe distance out. Plenty of
smaller patrols have made it much further in than this."
"But nothing of this
magnitude," Watch Tower responded nervously. "Never a convoy this
size."
"I agree," the voice
spit back at him through the crackling speaker. "Lookout assessment, Watch
Tower?"
"Full-scale response,"
Watch Tower said evenly. He turned away from the transmitter to look across the
shoulders of the men leaning over the observation rails. "We are not
dealing here with another patrol out searching with no direction. I think at
this point it's safe to assume they know where we are."
"Nothing's for sure,
Commander. It's too soon for us to be giving up our position just yet."
Watch Tower turned back to the
transmitter alarmed at what he had just heard.
"We're readying an
intercept team now. Ground troops will be rolling within the next seven
minutes."
"Ground troops?" Watch
Tower could feel the nervousness welling in his stomach rise. It added a slight
edge to his tone.
"A full-scale response
assault is not necessary at this time," the leader of Science Dome 15's
command center answered him. "The firebomb air team is en route. Their
launch was confirmed within the last half hour. Our ground forces just need to
contain the advance until the target is destroyed. And then get away
themselves."
"Sir, this response is not
sufficient," Watch Tower struggled to keep his voice steady. "The
Death Wall needs to be primed and made ready for an immediate ignite. This is
the only chance we're going to get to decide this."
"That's a negative, Watch
Tower," the voice quickly answered him. "Too much risk to our own
bombing run. Everything within a seventy-five mile radius of that blast will be
vaporized or otherwise incapacitated including a sizeable portion of the
closest section of the town. There is too much potential of blowing our own
forces right out of the sky."
"Sir, an unknown convoy is
out there, and it is coming this way," Watch Tower's temper started to
rise. "We all know the importance of this particular facility in
determining the outcome of this war…"
"Watch Tower," Dome
Leader's transmitted voice cut him off. "…if we send up the fire shield at
this point in time, the anonymity of our position will be prematurely and
unnecessarily compromised. We would endanger our own air forces and jeopardize
the effectiveness of their run. The shield will only make the facility
impenetrable for thirty-six hours at the absolute most. When it dies down, our
location will be detectable and vulnerable with no guarantees of arriving
reinforcements should we fall under attack. This type of last-resort scenario
is not something we need to risk at this time. We will engage with a ground
team and hold them off best we can until the firebombing. We'll easily
eradicate whatever size force that might remain after the run."
"Any other facility, I
would agree, Dome Leader. But with the Beam Cannon Hardware being housed here,
I respectfully suggest ignition of the fire shield as necessary and request air
reinforcement to deal with ground level survivors near the perimeter. Our fires
will be detected as those of Beuford. No one will know that we are here."
"But the wall will be gone
and we will be vulnerable," Dome Leader refuted with a calm stillness
coloring his voice.
"Lookout," Watch Tower
called away from the transmitter to the closest man leaning across the railing.
"Estimated vehicle force."
"It’s growing, sir,"
the lookout answered back. "Visual confirmation of more than three hundred
separate vehicles. They are all heading in this direction."
"Dome Leader," Watch
Tower spoke back into the transmitter. "We need to prime the Death Wall
now and risk its ignition. Whatever force it is, reconnaissance patrol or
otherwise, they're already too far out of the city to be eliminated completely
by the air run."
For the first time, the voice on
the other end of the transmitter did not answer back. The soft swirl of hot air
blowing about the lookout platform sounded uncomfortably against Watch Tower's
ears.
"Death Wall ignition is a
viable risk. Something we're going to have to take. That convoy is coming
directly this way."
The voice coming from the
transmitter was still silent. Even through the outside noise coming from behind
him on the observation platform, Watch Tower could still hear the electronic
sounds of Science Dome 15's command center on the other end.
"Command Center,"
Watch Tower dropped the level of his tone but not its intensity.
"Watch Tower," the
voice finally returned. "The Death Wall is being primed. Ignition control
will be transferred to the observation deck within the next five minutes. Send
it up at your command."
"Yes, sir," Watch
Tower said quickly and snapped the transmitter off.
He returned to the observation
deck next to his men and pulled his extended range glasses back to his eyes.
"Location confirmation on
the firebomb team?"
"Nothing yet,
General," Piper reported back to Tuttle. The communication officer leaned
against the large automatic cannon mounted across the rear deck of the assault
helicopter and pressed his headset tightly against his ear. He nodded intently
at the voices giving him estimated coordinates from the launch base. "The
trackers think they're close."
"How close?" Tuttle
barked.
"They've calculated
vicinity vectors and place them as being right here. Right on top of us. We
should have visual confirmation any second."
Tuttle glanced over at the pilot
who gripped his hands noticeably tighter across the assault helicopter’s
controls. The fiery terrain fell away in a blur beneath them, and a large shape
loomed in the darkness just beyond the hills ahead.
The mall was less than a mile
away.
"Two minutes," the
pilot's electronically transmitted voice came tautly through Tuttle's headset.
Tuttle leaned his head against
the side window and searched the sky behind them. There was still no sign of
the firebomb team. The edge of Beuford appeared quiet, almost tranquil, from
their position overhead. Some of the nearby fires of the burning city had begun
to reduce in size.
The town was still. Peacefully
awaiting its coming annihilation.
Tuttle's eyes searched furtively
outside the helicopter for what might be hidden within the sinister black
night. He prayed his thoughts alone would keep the firebomb team at bay until
they reached the mall roof.
His concerns did not rest on
their survival or even to encompass their escape. Tuttle just wanted to live
long enough to reach the Kirken family first.
He implored favor from those
guarding the heavens. If he wasn’t able to complete the rescue, he begged to be
at least given the chance to look into John Kirken's eyes. Even if it was just
for a second.
He just wanted the man to know
that someone had come.
Watch Tower focused his extended
range glasses towards the cloud of churning sand and flying chunks of terrain
that marked the location of the racing land fleet. More than a hundred vehicles
made up the squadron that sped towards Beuford in defense of Science Dome 15.
The convoy leaving the city grew
with every passing second.
Watch Tower trained his glasses
toward the sleek bullet-shaped attack fleet and the war vehicles they rushed to
meet. He held his breath and nervously scanned the long procession of coming
trucks and jeeps for any signs of the J.G.U. transports reportedly responsible
for the assault on Science Dome 26.
Immediately following the first
loss of one of the secret domes in the war, images of the mammoth killing
machines had been transmitted to every facility and scout command.
Ever since word had arrived of
the first dome assault, Watch Tower had made SD15's leaders alter existing
defense tactics to better address a similar onslaught of these new weapons at
their facility.
He had personally called for the
vehicles rushing from the base of the dome below. Actually, he had stood before
the entire facility command crew and demanded the Bullet land craft be prepared
for dome defense use.
Unlike the Bigfoot land units
normally used in defensive battles outside the domes, these vehicles were much
smaller in design. The Bullets were designed for reconnaissance and espionage
runs. They were harder to detect on sensing equipment, and the sheer sleekness
of their shape made them much less susceptible to enemy fire.
Watch Tower leaned his waist
against the observation deck rails and raised the inside of his wrist to his
mouth. Without looking away from his glasses, he spoke into the transmitter
nestled inside his jacket cuff.
"Bullet Leader this is
Watch Tower. Visual confirmation on more than one hundred vehicles headed your
way. Some coming from the fires, others from undamaged sections of the city.
Firebomb team to Beuford ETA unconfirmed at this time. Death Wall is primed and
sitting at ‘ignition ready status’. Twenty-mile safe zone if we decide to let
it go."
Static spit from the comlink
while Watch Tower waited for the leader of the ground assault to respond.
"We've got more than one
hundred fifty in sight or on scopes," Bullet Leader's voice returned.
“Teams are breaking up to engage."
Watch Tower adjusted the
controls to his extended range glasses and pressed them harder against his
eyes. Small purple welts began to form where the sharp edges of the glasses
pressed too hard against his skin.
"Charge weapons and begin
fire," the Bullet team leader's voice sounded grimly from Watch Tower's
wrist.
The solid line of Bullet fleet
vehicles that stretched from SD15's landing bay immediately broke apart at the
order. The small land units left the initial charge in pairs and swarmed about
the coming J.G.U. convoy like wasps leaving a disturbed hive.
Watch Tower strained his eyes to
see through the cloud of flying dirt kicked up by the Bullet fleet. The two
opposing lines of vehicles merged together at their points and slowly became
one jagged disfigured mass.
By now the J.G.U. convoy was
only fifty miles away from the dome's base.
Soon the bright flashes of fired
rockets and the sound of exploding rounds began to come from beneath the
floating layers of settling dirt.
"Someone inform the command
center our land team has just intercepted the convoy," Watch Tower said
without lowering his glasses.
One of the lookouts leaning near
him backed away from the outer rails towards the communications console just
off the observation deck.
Throngs of the Bullet units
poured around their larger J.G.U. targets. Their cannon fire ripped easily
through the armor of the vehicles at the head of the convoy obliterating driver
cabs and instantly shredding drive wheels and tires.
After each delivery of heavy
weapons fire, the quick-moving Bullets retreated easily to avoid the return
bursts from deeper within the convoy.
"Watch Tower," Bullet
Leader came again over Watch Tower's comlink. "There's a lot of 'em, but
their armor's pretty light. Minimal weaponry, relatively easy to disable.
Advance confinable. Just give us a bit more time."
"Not much of that
left," Watch Tower dropped his glasses and nervously reported back.
"You're only thirty miles out. And we've got scanner readings on another
two hundred coming from the city."
Watch Tower raised his glasses
back to his eyes not hearing the ground leader's response. He wiped away the perspiration
rolling down his face and shifted uncomfortably in his uniform coat recently
dampened by a thick layer of sweat.
Another volley of weapons bursts
transformed a handful of J.G.U. vehicles into flames. The Bullets zoomed in and
about the wreckage to engage the others replacing them from the rear.
For the moment, the enemy
procession had stopped. A giant wall of flame and burning debris laid strewn
across the drive paths of the coming trucks and jeeps. Several small explosions
fed its fury momentarily making it virtually impossible to pass.
Watch Tower lowered his glasses.
By now the battle was so close he could watch it easily from the observation
deck without any additional aid to his eyes.
Suddenly becoming visible
through the smoke and sand, bulkier more cumbersome trucks and tanks pushed
from the back of the J.G.U. ranks. Their larger frames crushed and pushed aside
the flaming wreckage of their own fleet vehicles fallen before them.
"Bigger vehicles coming
from the rear," Bullet Leader's voice came nervously from the comlink.
"Breaking off from main attack to engage."
And it was then Watch Tower saw
them. "Oh, my God," he muttered softly.
Two large sections of trucks
split in opposite directions away from the convoy to reveal the mammoth structures
hiding behind. Their presence until recently concealed by the thick black
smoke, the dome destroyers towered the size of small buildings into the air.
Large thick panels lowered along
their sides to reveal each structure's awesome supply of large-scale rockets
and massive artillery cannons. Some continued their lumbering pace further
towards SD15, while others rotated around to align weapons at the dome's base.
"Dome-killer enemy
transports in sight!" Bullet Leader's voice screamed from the comlink. "Visual
sighting of ten…make that fifteen units. Less than thirty miles out…some
drawing weapons, others positioning to fire…!"
Watch Tower jabbed his glasses
roughly into the side of the lookout standing next to him and ran down the
observation deck to the control panel at its center. Two of the other sentries
manning the observation post closed their shoulders in next to him. Both kept
their glasses pressed hard against their faces and pointed towards the battle
being waged below.
"What the hell are those…?"
one asked incredulously.
"I need some help over
here!" Watch Tower barked at the one standing closest to him.
The young sentry dropped his
glasses to the ground and slid behind the observation deck control panel. Watch
Tower jumped around excitedly next to him flipping switches and punching at the
controls.
The sentry's glasses crunched
softly beneath Watch Tower's darting feet.
"Enter the codes. Enter
them now!" Watch Tower almost shrieked. "Heat up the Death Wall! I
want it primed and ready to go in the next three minutes. Three minutes or not
at all. Do you got that?!"
The sentry's hands became a blur
across the panel. Watch Tower stepped away and turned back to the ground
battle.
The advancing trucks and other
smaller vehicles changed direction and rather than continuing to move forward
broke to the sides away from the main group. As their numbers began to thin,
more of the mammoth transports could be seen lined hidden single file behind.
Watch Tower raised his wrist and
pressed the small metal of the comlink tightly against his lips.
"Bullet Leader! Bullet
Leader! Bring it back in!" Spit flew from the sides of his mouth and
misted lightly across the controls in front of him. "Death Wall ignition
two minutes and counting!”
“Center all attack on the larger
units!" Bullet Leader's voice came back across the communications link.
"Gunners continue to fire. Repeat. Gunners continue to fire. Pilots bring
the units back in. Full-scale retreat!"
"Safety zone twenty
miles!" Watch Tower yelled into his wrist. "Say again! Safety zone
twenty miles! Death Wall ignition in two minutes."
An entire fleet of the large
transport vehicles became visible from beneath the flying grit obscuring the
battle below. Like submarines skimming just below the water's surface, the top
of the structures jutted ominously through the billowing black smoke.
As if a singular foot reached
from the heavens and slammed their brake pedals to the floor, the Bullet
vehicles spun about in coordinated unison as soon as the order to withdraw was
given.
Some catapulted across their
sides and burst into flames while others were crushed by the mammoth wheels of
the advancing transports.
Cannon fire from the smaller
vehicles slapped harmlessly off the transports’ heavy armor as the land fleet
made its panicked retreat.
Return artillery bursts from the
transports picked at the smaller Bullet units transforming them one by one into
bright balls of light that wounded deeply the surrounding earth.
"Lock down the dome!"
Watch Tower yelled to the lookout manning the controls. "Get the
concussion shields down immediately. Be ready to lower them completely on my
mark. We're going to need to leave the bay area exposed until we get the team
back in! Those transports are going to be following close behind!"
The sentry didn't look up. Only
the increased ferocity of his hands across the controls signaled
acknowledgement of Watch Tower's latest command.
"Bullet Leader," Watch
Tower barked into the comlink again. "We're keeping the landing bay open
as long as we can. You've got a twenty-mile safe zone when it goes off. And
we're going to have to seal the doors at least fifteen seconds before that. If
the shields aren't down when the Death Wall goes up, the whole facility could
go down!"
"We hear you Watch
Tower," Bullet Leader’s voice came again from Watch Tower's wrist
communication link. A calmness had replaced the controlled panic in his voice.
"Keep those bay doors open as long as you can. Light up the wall the
instant that first transport reaches the safe zone. Any one of those gets
through, everyone will be dead…not just us."
"Acknowledged Bullet
Leader," Watch Tower said solemnly and lowered his wrist.
He picked up his extended
glasses and pointed them back towards the battlefield. Amidst the fires and
mountains of dark smoke, he watched the land fleet race for their lives towards
the landing bay.
The J.G.U. transports chased
closely behind spitting cannon fire and letting loose the red flaming tails of
hundreds of fired rockets to further enlighten the battle-plagued night.
Watch Tower lowered his glasses
one last time and pulled his wrist back to his face.
"You guys are really going
to have to hurry," he said softly into the mike.