The War After Armageddon

For the first time in his life, Daniels had asked for volunteers — reversing the presentation and giving his aviators the option of staying behind. Only two crews had refused to fly in support of the drive on Damascus. Daniels had the four men locked up. Until the mission was over water. He didn’t need tattletales running to the Air Force cell up at HOLCOM.

Word had gotten out nonetheless. Now there was no time to delay. Given another ten minutes, HOLCOM could scramble enough Air Force fighters to hold them on the ground. Maybe even bomb the runway.

And Dawg Daniels intended to fly. He was not going to let Monk Morris, or one single ground-pounder Marine, down. Come what may.

“Flight Leader, acknowledge… Upon takeoff, you will be regarded as hostile… Do you read my transmission, Flight Leader?”

After making sure he was on the right comms channel, Daniels answered:

“Fuck you.”

His plane shot down the runway.

TWENTY-THREE

HEADQUARTERS, III (US) CORPS, MT. CARMEL RIDGES

“Stop them,” Montfort said.

An unexpected tremor in his hand startled Harris, but he kept the earpiece locked against his head. “Sim, we can do this with conventional means. Al-Ghazi and al-Mahdi have their forces scattered between the Golan and Damascus. I can roll them up. We need to give this a chance.”

“Stop them,” Montfort said. “That’s an order.”

“You can’t give me orders, Sim.”

The distant voice had been waiting for that response, setting him up. “Oh, but I can, Gary. I’ve been given command of your corps. As of one hour ago. I’m only going through you as a courtesy, to save you embarrassment. You’ve been relieved. But we both want to avoid a spectacle, a needless humiliation…”

“I don’t believe you. By whose authority?”

“By order of the president.”

“The president wouldn’t do that. I would’ve heard something.”

“President Gui?”

“Gui’s not president. He’s the vice president.”

The distant voice tut-tutted him. “Gary, your staff isn’t keeping you abreast of things. Didn’t they tell you about the tragedy? While you’re impeding my efforts to win this war, our nation’s in mourning. And not just for those brave souls sacrificed to Muslim bloodthirst.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The president’s helicopter malfunctioned. On the way to Camp David. He’ll be greatly missed.”

“You bastards.”

“Don’t say anything you’ll regret, Gary. You need to join the team now.”

“You bastards.”

“President Gui has already been sworn in. And he’s decided to make some urgent changes. You can either obey the orders of your president, or not.”

“Don’t do this, Sim.”

“We have to avenge what they did to us. To teach them a lesson Islam will never forget.”

“Give me a day. Just one day.”

“And how would that benefit the Lord’s work? An eye for an eye…”

“We don’t have to go nuclear. Not against cities.”

“Nuclear release has already been granted. Theater-wide. And delegated. To me.”

“Don’t do this, Sim. I beg you.”

“We have to finish this, Gary. You must see that. Or will you continue defending Lucifer’s legions to the bitter end?”

“I’m not defending them.”

“Oh, really? What about Nazareth?”

“There are no legions in Nazareth. Lucifer’s, or anybody else’s. Just scared, pathetic civilians shoved into the line of fire. They don’t even have enough water to drink, for God’s sake. They’re not guilty of anything but being alive. They didn’t nuke your troops, Sim.”

“Didn’t they? Gary, you simply refuse to understand. I’ve been praying for you to see the light, but you still talk to me as if I’m a fool. Of course they’re guilty. This is the great battle foretold in Revelation. All the signs are there.”

“You can’t believe that nonsense.”

“All the signs are there.” Montfort hesitated, but Harris sensed that his old acquaintance hadn’t finished speaking. Then Montfort said, “I’ve been chosen. To finish this. By the Lord, my God. I don’t expect you to understand. Any more than the infidels and devil-worshippers in Nazareth could understand.”

“Sim, you sound like a madman.”

“To a man of no faith. But be that as it may. I’ve given you my order. To halt the movement of all forces subordinate to Third Corps headquarters. Immediately. If any of those Marines have crossed the old Syrian border to the north, they’re to disengage and withdraw immediately. Or they’ll be regarded as traitors. And I will not be responsible for what happens to them. You will.”

“You mean you’ll use nuclear weapons… even if our own troops are killed?”

“Your choice. Not mine.”

“Don’t do this.”

Montfort paused again. Then he said, “You have adequate time to warn the Marines. And anyone else in the proximity of our enemies. Of God’s enemies. You know the drill, Gary. Warheads have to be armed, flight times aren’t instantaneous. You have a few hours.”

“When? When do you intend to finish destroying your godfor-saken Holy Land?”

“The first strikes should hit at 1600,” General of the Order Simon Montfort said calmly. “I’ll be at your headquarters before then. To assume command.”

* * *