5 Onslaught (16 page)

26

While the
rest of the base is impressive, the Antarctican flag and the unity it reveals
makes
me beam with pride for my fellow man. It’s hard to
believe that soldiers from different nations could come together under a single
banner, but there it is, waving in the breeze, a symbol of our resistance against
the monsters that would not just dominate us, but erase our presence from the
planet.

But
I don’t linger on the flag for long. The base is a beehive of activity and my
eyes flash back and forth, taking in every nook and cranny. The strangest thing
about the base is that is appears to be a combination of modern fortifications
and ancient. It’s surrounded by tall, twenty foot walls. Some are gray
stone—granite, I think, now braced with steel beams, and some are massive steel
plates welded together. There are men across the top, and more halfway down,
aiming their weapons through long windows. Several watchtowers overlook the
base, once again a mix of old and new construction. I see snipers, so many
snipers, keeping watch from the tall lookouts. Within the massive base are a
group of modern buildings similar to what we saw at the FOB, but they’re
surrounding what looks like a Mayan pyramid, beneath which runs a tunnel. Just
beyond the buildings are two lines of artillery—howitzers, I think, all aimed
toward the distance, their crews nearby and ready to fire.

Closer
to the ocean, on a flat stretch of grass, is an array of attack helicopters
laden with armaments. I recognize a few, but most
are
more modern than anything I’ve seen, and the variety suggests they belong to
numerous nations. I quickly count fifty. They’re not up and running, but I
assume the pairs of men waiting by the open cockpits are the pilots.

My
eyes travel further to the left, out to sea, where I see the silhouettes of so
many Navy vessels they look like one massive ship, covered in flashing lights.
Their numbers are impossible to count in the dark, but at least a few of them
are aircraft carriers. I can tell because the air roars with the sounds of
patrolling jets.

Looking
back to the base, I observe the front lines. Beyond the front wall, which will
slow a Nephilim, but not stop it, there is something far more formidable.
Tanks.
Nearly a hundred of them.
Lined up side by side, all aimed toward the west. And more are rumbling into
place, arriving in a steady stream from transports at the coast, which gently
slopes to the water. In front of the tanks are several long trenches filled
with men and weapons. Before the trenches, a field of razor wire, and before
that, a clearing that is no doubt laden with mines.

Perhaps
the strangest thing about this force lies on the opposite side of the base from
where I am now.
Cresties.
Maybe
three hundred of the dinosaurs, lying on the ground, just waiting for the fight
to begin.
As creatures of violence, hunting and killing every day of
their lives in an environment far harsher than this and filled with hunters and
Nephilim, this is just another day. They might live. They might die. But either
way, they’ll fight the Nephilim like they always have. Despite the fact that
they can have a taste for human beings, these creatures have done more to
reduce the ranks of the Nephilim over the past few thousand years than any man.
I’m glad they’re here, and I send Zok and Grumpy off to join them.

It’s
an impressive army.
Enough to conquer nations.
But
while this powerful army of perhaps a hundred thousand, bolstered by the
strength of modern weapons, can wreak havoc on a scale of Biblical proportions,
they face an enemy numbering a million of
genuine
Biblical proportions, who can heal from any number of wounds and who enjoy the
pain. If the two behemoths make it to the base, they’d just have to fall over
and much of it would be destroyed beneath their girth.

Still,
it’s a far better defense than the previous FOB, and our chances of survival
are higher, if just by a little. Deep down, I know that the size of the base
and number of tanks isn’t going to affect the outcome of this battle. That will
come down to me.
And Nephil.

Solomon!

The
voice in my head makes me flinch.

Kainda
tenses next to me. “What is it?”

“Nothing,”
I say, and then smile. “Luca caught me off guard.”

I’m
vaguely aware of Mira asking about Luca and Em giving an explanation as I focus
on my thoughts and reply.
Luca! Are you
in the new base?

Under the temple
, he thinks.
It’s where the leaders are. General Holloway is here. So are Merrill
and Aimee.

Why are
you
there?
I ask.
I would prefer that
Luca be far away from the action.
Someplace safe.

I’m a general
, he thinks.
Well, not really, but I’m important. I’m coordinating everyone.

With your thoughts
, I deduce. Luca is just six, but he
has my extraordinary mind and a telepathic ability given to him by Xin.
A regular Professor X.

I’m not controlling them, though, just
giving orders.

Well, that’s good,
I think to myself. But in the heat of
battle, Luca might not fare so well. He might have my mind, but he also has my
six year old temperament, which was about as tough as runny mashed potatoes. Of
course, he was also raised in the underworld for a time and then trained by
Tobias, who was
loving
, but demanding. He’s probably
tougher than I was at his age. He might even be tougher than I was at thirteen.

Well, here’s my first orders for you to
issue,
I think to Luca.

What is it?
The thought is so powerful that I can
actually feel his excitement.

Open the gates and try not to shoot us.

Open the gates!
The thought explodes from the center
of the base and reaches the mind of every single soldier, including Em, Kainda,
Kat and Mira.

“The
hell was that?” Kat says, rubbing her head.

“Luca,”
Em says, smiling.

“He’s
practically running the place,” I tell her and then start down the slope toward
the side of the base where a gate is swinging open.

Our
pace quickens and we reach the open gate at the same time as a welcoming
committee that has hurried out from beneath the pyramid. Mira reacts first,
seeing her parents. She breaks ranks, runs the distance between them and leaps
into their outstretched arms.

Em
runs next, scooping up Luca, who is dressed in green camouflage. If not for the
wild, long blond hair that matches my own, he’d look like any other kid from
the outside world. Em wraps her arms around her little brother and spins him in
the air.

As
I pass through the gates, I glance up at the watchtowers to either side. Both
contain a mix of hunters and black clad snipers. The ones I don’t know just
watch. Then I see Adoni, the Australian Aboriginal teacher, now wielding an
assault rifle. He gives me a smile and a nod.

Next
to Adoni stands Zuh, her pom-pom of curly hair now tied back against her head.
She once tried to claim me as her own, vowing to beat Kainda in combat for the
right of being my wife. I told her that wasn’t going to happen, and she seemed
to respect that choice, but just in case it might come up again, I hold my hand
up to her, revealing the wound on my hand. She looks momentarily surprised, but
then smiles ruefully and nods in greeting.

A
man next to Zuh, a big smile on his face, leans over the rail.
“Chica!”

Mira
waves up to him. “Cruz!”

“Am
I glad to see you alive and kicking,” he says.

I
recognize him as one of the men from the team that raced toward the South Pole
and rescued Aimee along with Wright, Kat and Merrill. He sees Kat next.

“Dios
mío!” he says.
“Kat!”

She
nods up to him, stoic, perhaps knowing what his next question will be. But Cruz
doesn’t ask it. His eyes wander around our small band and he frowns. Wright’s
absence speaks for itself.

“Relieved
to see you in one piece,” he says.

“Likewise,”
Kat says, and offers him a casual salute, which he returns.

General
Holloway stops before me, looking me up and down before staring into my eyes as
though evaluating my worth. He’s got at least a week’s worth of growth on his
face and bags under his eyes. The man has been pushing himself.

“You
look...rested,” he says. “Been on vacation?”

“If
you don’t mind me saying, sir, you’ve looked better.”

This
cracks a smile in his grim demeanor. He nods toward Mira.

“Got
her back, I see.”

I
nod.

“The
Clarks are good people. They deserved it. But now it’s time to get the house in
order. We don’t have much time.”

“How much time?”
I ask.

He
looks at his watch. “Eight hours. Give or take. We’ve been tracking them by
satellite.”

“Then
you know what we’re up against?”

He
sighs and looks defeated for just a fraction of a second. “It’s going to get
rough, but we couldn’t have asked for a better position. We’ve got cliffs on
both sides. If they want us, they’re going to have to come straight down the
middle. It’s a natural bottleneck, a half mile across. Call it the shooting
gallery. It’s ten to one right now, but we have more men, weapons and vehicles
arriving every hour.”

“Which
nations are involved?” I ask.

“Hell,”
he says. “Son, you got everyone. Well, everyone in range. The Russians found
this place and set up shop early. They never intended on leaving without a
fight. But once we all knew what we were facing, well, here we are.
Chinese, Arab Nations, the EU, the Brits, Japan, Brazil, the Koreas
and at least ten more.”

“Whose
idea was the flag?” I ask, pointing to the largest of the bunch, flying from
the top of the pyramid.

He
motions toward Luca, “That would be your brother. Said you would like it.
Also said that Antarctica was your land.
And
that you were the King.”

“He
was right,” I say.

“About the flag?”

“About all three.”

We
stare at each other for a moment and then he just shrugs. “We can talk about
that if we don’t die.”

“Sounds
fair,” I say.
“Now about Luca.”

“I
know what you’re going to say,” Holloway says. “And normally I’d agree. This is
no place for a child. But here’s the thing. We’ve got an army made up of folks
who speak fifteen, twenty languages. A lot of them can speak English, but at
least fifty percent of our force doesn’t understand a word of it beyond Coke
and Pepsi. It was a real problem at first, but then he figured out that thought
has no language. A Spanish speaker receives the boy’s thoughts just as clearly
as an English speaker. With his ability, he can give orders and direct troops with
more efficiency and clarity than the confusing mix of radiomen and translators
we were going to have to use. I’m sorry, but the boy is essential.”

I
look at Luca, still wrapped in Em’s arms, excitedly telling Kainda a story
while she rubs his hair. “If he gets hurt...”

“He’ll
be by my side the entire time.”

“Beneath the temple?”

“It’s
the safest place,” Holloway says, “Which brings me to my first question. Where
will you be?”

I
point beyond the wall, to the battlefield.
“Out there.”

“Solomon!”
Aimee shouts, running up and giving me a hug.

Merrill
follows her, clapping me on the back.
“My boy!”
He
wraps an arm around me and gives me a squeeze. “We can’t thank you enough for
bringing her back.”

I
lean back from the both of them and say, “I just have one more promise to keep.
You’re all getting off this continent alive and together.”

Aimee
smiles and shakes her head. “The man you’ve become. You’re parents would be
proud.”

Would
be proud?
Does that
mean...
I push the concern from my mind. Being distracted by the fate of my
parents, good or bad, will only distract me from what needs to be done.

Over
the next ten minutes, I reunite with Luca and share a little bit about what we
experienced while we were away. The Clarks and Luca, and even the General
listen to our tale, but when it’s over, everyone is all business.

We
retreat to the temple. A tunnel runs through the center of the structure,
stopping at a chamber that has been transformed into a command center. There
are thick stone walls all around and above. The tunnel is too small for a
Nephilim, the structure too sound to easily destroy. Aside from a behemoth
attack, the temple is the most secure location in the base. Despite the ancient
surroundings, which were likely built by the same pre-flood human civilization
that painted the record found in the
nunatak
,
the space is full of modern computers, weapon racks and cables that snake
across the floor before disappearing underground.