Revolution of the Gods: The Battle for Sol Book Two

T
he main viewer was off and the briefing had just ended. Bracken, Hauer and Leroux remained behind in the conference room. They were joined by Corporal Riggs, one of the general’s most trusted aides. Bracken was about to ask Dr. Hauer about his group’s efforts when the viewer flashed on again.

“Sir we have a report of a Helios going down in the Vegas RZ,”
Colonel Reid reported once he had returned to his office and retrieved the intelligence update. A satellite image taken above Las Vegas appeared on the left half of the conference room viewer. Then an enlarged section above the Bellagio zoomed in on the ride side of the screen showing the crash.

“Apparently an extremely powerful plasma discharge struck a Helios causing it to go down. Any instructions?”
Reid asked.

“Maintain enhanced surveillance on the area and notify me promptly of any more activity, Bracken out.”

“I assume that was our GEO involved in the confrontation?” Bracken nodded toward Hauer.

“His abilities are untrained, instinctive and apparently rapidly evolving. Taon must reach his destination before he becomes a danger even to himself.”

“Dr. Hauer, if you believe you can assist Taon in any way, feel free to do so,” Bracken suggested.

“I will go back to my lab,” Hauer deduced, knowing that his own modified equipment would probably be of better use in Taon’s predicament. “I will be on Level 176 if you need me General.”

The general looked back at Leroux. “Corporal Riggs, assist Dr. Leroux in retrieving her things. I want you to take my family and the doctor to Section H of Level 181,” Bracken ordered.

“Doctor Leroux, please follow the corporal. Your private quarters are ready as well as a personal research lab in Section G. The cranial fragment has been secured in that area and two technicians have been appropriated for your use. I assume Dr. Hauer will be joining you shortly.”

“Am I looking for something in particular?” Leroux asked.

“Dr. Hauer is better qualified to answer that question,” Bracken unsatisfactorily answered. Leroux left for Level 181, trying to comprehend what she had heard in the conference room.

After walking back to his office, Bracken sat down in front of his desk viewer and checked in with General Kirsch on the surface. Commanding three armored divisions, Kirsch was a notably brilliant battlefield tactician. The general was a veteran of both Gulf wars and was battle tested in the field. He was in late 60s but appeared at least 15 years younger with his slender, fit physique. His discerning hazel eyes demanded the best of everyone around him. Frank Kirsch was a no nonsense prototypical son of the classicAmerican military.

“Frank, how are things progressing topside?”

“
We have established the outer air defense perimeter. Our divisions are assembling and completing the setup of surface command/control structures, airstrips, supply depots, armories and barracks. Fort Phoenix is scheduled to be fully operational in two hours. Divisional deployment capability will be achieved by 2300 hours,”
Kirsch reported.

Originated by General Straka, ‘Fort Phoenix’ was the nickname given to the planned Dugway surface coalescence of thousands of forces that were originally tasked to reconstitute American autonomy in the Central Zone as part of Operation Goliath. Their initial mission to assault and take over the Groom Lake and Dulce facilities had not changed but the stakes had. The forces above Dugway prepared their implements of war diligently, knowing that assaults on both of these facilities would be no easy task.

“We are nearly finished with the initial preparatory phase of Operation Goliath as planned. I suspect Lindherst and the C7 are likely aware of our most recent movements by now. We are set to be on defensive readiness at any mom---”
a high priority alert flashed, interrupting Kirsch’s transmission.

“General Bracken. You are hereby ordered to stand down from your command at Dugway! Your provisional assignment has been rescinded by Prime Delegate Pike at the direction of the Council of Seven. I am here to ensure your compliance and commandeer the facility,”
Lindherst snapped, anticipating Bracken’s reaction.

“Director Lindherst. I have waited a long time to offer you my true sentiments – Go fuck yourself! This facility is hereby operated by the United States military, not the god damned NAU or C7,” Bracken countered, finally giving Lindherst a long deserved rebuke.

“Bracken, it would be very unwise for you to take such a stance. You overestimate your abilities. I suggest you stand down now!”

“Lindherst, you can consider Dugway under the protection of the US military. Any attempt to commandeer this base will be the unwise stance,” the general bolstered.

“Have it your way Bracken. Dugway is not the only facility where the C7 has pursued next generation weapons technology and you are about to become acquainted with our superiority,” Lindherst bragged.

General Kirsch had deployed eighty defensive laser arrays along a five mile perimeter surrounding the surface of Dugway. On the flipside, near the northeast corner of the perimeter, Lindherst had positioned four undetected Helios attack cruisers that began firing over 600 missiles, targeting the laser arrays from about two miles away. The arrays successfully repelled the majority of the volley but the overwhelming number of incoming ordinance allowed more than enough missiles to find their targets and all of the arrays were disabled or destroyed in just a few seconds.

General Bracken had switched to his wall viewer to show a live view of the surface and observed the attack on the perimeter.

So Lindherst brought the big guns
.

Assessing the incoming threat, General Tucker, who was in command of all the air wings, ordered his pilots to scramble ten Griffins and over seventy-five F-35s from makeshift airstrips on the surface.

After the laser arrays were neutralized, Lindherst sentin fifteen Griffins and ninety-five F-37 Condors to begin an air assault at the center of the facility. When the unfriendly Griffins were nearly on top of the massive conglomeration of US military hardware assembled on the surface, Kirsch activated the automated plasma cannons near the opening underground hanger doors that were about to launch two Helios cruisers.

The cannons hit the Griffins several times without any apparent damage but as the Condors flew into range, they were picked apart by the plasma bursts.

He has significantly enhanced those cannons
, Lindherst concluded.

Dugway's Griffins and F-35s were all in the air by the time the enemy aircraft made their first pass. Simultaneously, Lindherst’s small armada of four Helios cruisers was steadily approaching the center of the base preparing to touch down. About one half mile from the main mass of troops, the cruisers descended to a few feet above the ground.

Under incoming fire from Dugway’s Griffins, Lindherst launched twenty-four Razor Tanks from his cruisers. These mechanical beasts were in fact part of the weapon superiority of which the director had alluded. After releasing the tanks, the director ordered the cruisers to back off, realizing he had underestimated the number of forces that had been redeployed to Dugway.

Bracken has obviously been planning for some time now
.

C
orporal Riggs stood in front of the control panel watching the numbers increase past 160. The elevator was a bit tight, carrying the general’s family, Dr. Leroux, and their luggage.

“We haven’t formally met. My name is Catherine Bracken,” the general’s wife said, using her left hand to restrain Jake Jr. and extending her other one in greeting.

“I am Dr. Courtney Leroux. Nice to meet you,” Leroux responded, shaking Cathy’s hand. “Are we the only ones going to 181?”

“Jacob said some of the other officers’ families will be on our level as well,” Cathy replied before telling Jake Jr. to quiet down and stop pointing at the corporal’s gun.

A few seconds passed and the doors began opening on Level 181. Colonel Osborne was facing them with his side arm drawn and completely caught Riggs off guard.

“Give me your weapon soldier!” Osborne ordered the confused corporal.

T
he V33 flew across Skyline Boulevard and approached the west side of the reservoir. Cadan’s descending approach took the Raider low to the ground at the head of Peninsula Road. Speeding southeast, parallel with the road and the reservoir, the stands of redwoods and California bay trees towering over the patches of huckleberry bushes and ferns began to considerably thin out as the men reached the tip of the short peninsula. Cadan sat the Raider down at the very end of the dirt road near a looped turnaround in the middle of a large cleared area.

Simeon hopped out first, attempting to scout the nearby clearing before the last rays of daylight dissipated. Cadan walked around the V33 checking for any damage that may not have registered on the internal systems. Ben was the last to exit, appreciating the open space which was free of desperate camp residents; the smell of close quartered living and barrel fires. He immensely enjoyed the clean organic scents of redwood and fresh water.

“Well guys, this is where our paths part as they say,” Cadan alerted as he activated a hologram from his wrist, displaying the adjacent reservoir. The other two men walked over to him and observed. He continued, “You two are taking the Raider…”

“Are you proceeding on foot?” a perplexed Ben interrupted.

“No, I will be taking this…” Cadan countered as he looked up from the hologram readout and over to the water. A muddled blur of bright blue lights began appearing under the water just before the surface started to bubble. A sleek sixty foot aircraft breached the surface and completely emerged above the quiet reservoir. Ben and Simeon watched the glistening black craft as it hovered from over the water and sat down near the V33.

“Just a little something I threw together back at the garage,” Cadan bragged.

Simeon leaked some laughter, knowing that Cadan was referencing the Salton Sea facility when he said garage. Ben simply looked on with complete amazement.

The back half of the ship slightly resembled an F-35 Lightning, possessing two outwardly angled dorsal tail fins above a singular swept back wing and housing one large engine in the center of the aft section. The front of the ship did not resemble any conventional configuration. The sloped cockpit was positioned near the middle of the craft just in front of its main wing. From that point forward, the fuselage split into two nacelles, projecting past the cockpit on each side and extending about twenty-five feet into narrowing tips, resembling a pair of slightly opened needle nose pliers.

“I see you have been busy my industrious friend,” Simeon remarked as he walked over to get a closer look at the craft.

“It’s called the Valkyrie. Air speed Mach twelve, space speed .0002 c, redundant plasma shields, particle armaments, and sensory invisibility cloak. This is the prototype that we are putting into mass production,” Cadan disclosed, walking up beside his friend that was admiring the forward twin nacelles.

“I’m impressed,” Simeon admitted. “It should stand up well to a Griffin or even a Gigim Xul most probably.”

“What is the Gigim Xul?” Ben queried.

“Um, I will explain that when we get to our destination,” Simeon retracted, realizing he had forgotten Ben’s frame of reference had not yet been fully fleshed out. He looked back at Cadan and halfway grinned, “Where are you headed?”

“My presence is requested in Vegas. Our friend from Dugway seems to have gotten into a little pinch after his escape.”