The Dragons of Men (The Sons of Liberty Book 2) (3 page)

He needed an example.

The Imperium would need a public illustration of what would happen should anyone rebel against Lukas, and the images of Fort Bragg’s burning ruins would paint that picture eloquently.

Lukas was commencing with his resignation speech on screen three when Lieutenant Roy cried out.

“Sir, I’ve located the source!”

“Where are they?” Jacob asked. “Offutt? Texas? Bragg?”

“Sir,” the officer began as he enlarged a screen that displayed a bright room with dead soldiers on the floor and heavily armed men moving about. “They’ve taken the control room at Reagan. They’re trying to take control of the Graystone in DC.”

Jacob’s ears grew hot as he listened to Lieutenant Roy speak. For days Jacob had believed the Patriarchs or the United States would muster one last defense in an effort to retain the power they were destined to lose.

He had never imagined they would strike first from the very city Lukas resided.

“Jam all frequencies over DC, including our own. Activate the Second Echelon and commence the attack on Fort Bragg.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Reroute the Fifth from Baltimore,” Jacob barked, holding himself together as best as he could as he tried not to think about the punishment that awaited him should he fail to protect Lukas.

You have but one responsibility.
Jacob shuddered as he thought back to the extraordinary exchange he had weeks earlier.

“I want the Fifth’s Yellow Jackets filling the skies over DC as soon as possible. All other divisions, commence with Operation Imperium Rising. Tell the Fourth to destroy any military they see in DC when they’re done with those Raptors. And activate the MIGs hidden at JFK. Roy, I want you to personally guide them over DC and set fire to anything that approaches the Capitol Building. Let’s move, ladies and gents! We’ve got a world to win!”

“Get down!”

Bright flashes like distant lightning filled the horizon, followed by three loud whooshes of artillery passing overhead as Sarah dove to the ground, covering her kids with her trembling body. The shells struck Fort Bragg’s Medical Center a few hundred yards ahead of her, exploding with a trio of fiery booms. Black smoke and falling debris quickly replaced the balls of fire, pouring from the gaping holes that now decorated the hospital’s face. The sound of battle and men dying in the distance filled the air—horrific sounds that Sarah knew would haunt her dreams and the dreams of her children for many nights to come.

If they even lived to dream another night.

“Get up!” Eric ordered as he jumped to his feet. More flashes and rumbling filled the sky in the direction of the gates a mile and a half behind them. Eric paused as he glanced back at the direction of the battle and then to the twenty or so civilians that surrounded him. Not all had followed him, though most had been frightened enough to flee. The look in Eric’s eyes made it clear to Sarah that the warrior within wanted to be at the front with his brothers, fighting the enemy instead of helping a frightened gathering of inept strangers escape. He hesitated for only a moment before barking orders again. “Alright, we’re driving out of here. There will be vehicles at the medical center’s parking lot. Hit the ground if you hear more artillery. Now move!”

As the group ran for the burning medical center, random shells passed overhead. Sarah ran with both Eva and Grace clutching her hands. Judah ran up from behind her, his face terrified as he clutched a military rifle Rick had given him. It looked odd in his hands—a weapon designed purely for the killing of men—and Sarah realized in that moment that her children wouldn’t be resigned to the sidelines of this war.

They’d be the ones who waged it or died trying.

They reached the parking lot in the medical center, Eric the only one not out of breath. “We need at least five vehicles,” he shouted as he bashed in a window to an ancient SUV from the nineties. “Make sure they’re older. We won’t be able to hotwire any of the newer cars.”

The group spread out quickly, the sound of shattering of glass barely audible over the distant thunder. It wasn’t long before they were all piling into six vehicles that were running idly, Eric shouting at the others to follow his lead. Eric was the last to load up in a large SUV with Sarah, her kids, Rick, Judi, and Elizabeth crammed in the back. Within minutes they were speeding west through the parking lot.

“What now?” Sarah asked.

“The first thing we’re doing is getting as far away from this base as we can tonight,” Eric replied as they approached the exit. The road ahead split to the right and left, and he paused momentarily as though he was deciding which way to go. “We’ll need to clear the….” His words trailed off as he looked in the rearview mirror, his eyes narrowing momentarily before widening in horror. “Everyone down!”

Time seemed to decelerate as Sarah looked behind them with a curious fright. The first bombs struck the base with a pounding like that of a mad titan’s drum, a blinding light causing the pupils in her wide eyes to constrict. A wave of fire and debris traveled toward them with a reverberation that shook the SUV. Eric floored it through the intersection and up a grassy embankment, crushing small trees as the vehicle sped into a residential area. Sarah cried out to God as she shoved her kids down to the floor—waiting for the boom that would inevitably close the curtains to this world. The engine roared and Eric bellowed as a brilliant flash followed by an earsplitting concussion blew the windows out, filling the SUV with the sharp smell of smoke.

This is it,
Sarah thought as she clutched her children.
I am about to die.

She could feel the vehicle shift in midair and hear the snapping of steel. For a moment, the SUV seemed to drift weightlessly through the air before sinking into the ground as it came to a jarring halt.

Instead of a searing fire, cold water quickly filled the interior as they slowly descended, coming to rest on the right side of the vehicle. It was so unexpected that she cried out in surprise. However, her shock was only momentary. She was still alive and had to protect her children.

She grabbed Eva and Grace as the frigid pool water leveled off chest deep. Elizabeth and Rick were moving, dragging an unconscious Judi out the shattered back window. Judah was slowly crawling out one of the broken windows. Eric, however, was nowhere to be seen.

“Eric,” Sarah called out, frantically searching for him. “Eric!”

Nothing.

“Rick!”

“Come on, Sarah!” Rick yelled back. “We have to—”

“I can’t find Eric!” Sarah shouted.

“Damn it, Sarah, we’ve got to go!”

Sarah quickly handed Eva and Grace to Rick through the back window and began crawling over seats toward the front to see if Eric had been ejected through the windshield. As she made it to the driver’s seat, a hand grabbed her from underneath the surface. She ducked down in the water and felt around frantically before a hand clutched her wrist. The fires outside barely illuminated the dark water, but she could see the whites of Eric’s eyes staring back at her as he struggled to free himself. His arm had been trapped between the pool’s tiled floor and the metal frame of the vehicle. She tugged on his free arm, but he didn’t budge. The vehicle lay on his forearm six inches from his hand, and unless they could lift the vehicle, Eric would drown.

Sarah rose from the water, holding Eric’s free hand as she did so.

“Rick, Judah—Eric’s trapped!”

“Where?” Rick shouted back.

“His hand is stuck under the vehicle. You have to…you have to somehow shift the SUV.”

“Elizabeth, you get Judi to the side of the pool,” Rick quickly said. “Kids, you’re with me. We’re all going to rock the vehicle and shout on the count of three. Okay, Sarah, pull when you hear us yell!”

Sarah took a deep breath and ducked under the water, pulling herself down toward Eric. His gaze had grown tired and his struggle seemed to have lessened. She moved in close and wrapped her lips around his mouth—breathing air into his lungs as the vehicle began to slightly rock back and forth. She grabbed his arm, gave him a nod, and pulled just as soon as she heard everyone shout from outside.

How had it come to this?

Tracers pierced the wide window to the left, snapping above as they snapped Gene Smith back to reality. He dove to the ground as the red-hot lead struck both polished stone and American soldiers behind him. The battle-tested General raised his magnetically enhanced shotty pack and fired at the sudden onset of retrofitted FODs that darted about the airport’s terminal, happy to see he was not the only one who had maintained discipline. The twenty-something carbon fiber birds melted before the onslaught of both incendiary rounds and concentrated electromagnetic pulses. But to Gene Smith, their destruction was nothing more than another insignificant victory. As they fell from the skies, Gene saw the countless other shadows that raced through the distant, dark skies over Washington DC—the burning capital of a fallen nation.

“Lev! Do we have comms back up?”

“No sir,” Lev replied as he worked furiously. “I left an encrypted transmitter plugged into the terminal. I can work remotely if we need to move.”

“Just get it done and radio Bond. Tell him he’s got to book it! I want the Capitol Building brought down on Lukas’ head. If Bond wants to take his time then it’s his own damn fault!”

Five warthogs passed overhead, shaking the glass walls and screaming through the night as they raced toward the heart of the battle.

“General!” Marc yelled as he ran up to Gene.

“What is it, Marc?”

“We can finally see Mobile,” Marc said.

“Where the hell are they?”

“Scouts upstairs said they’re off the Potomac now and spearheading—”

A rush of abnormally bright blasts raced across the horizon—illuminating the silhouettes of DC’s stone carved buildings in front of what Gene knew had to be the National Mall and Mobile’s column of advancing armor. At least twenty MIG fighter jets screeched through the night at full afterburner—splitting formation and parting ways as they passed the Washington Monument—a stone spire well-lit by the fires that engulfed Gene’s main advance.

No,
Gene thought as the fireballs grew and an eerie silence reigned.
Please, God. No!

Lev—oblivious to what had just happened as he began swiping through the air in front of him, guiding the unseen virtual control map on his nVision display—broke the odd silence.

“Comms up in three, two, one…we’re live!”

Gene grabbed his radio and began barking his orders.

“All units, this is General Gene Smith requesting an immediate SITREP from anyone near Mobile HQ.” Gene paused, staring blankly at the glowing horizon as he inwardly begged for a response. However, all he heard in return was the unorganized chatter from the rapidly crumbling attacking force that was scattered about Washington. “I repeat, this is General Gene Smith. Please, someone tell me we have Lukas in custody.”

“Damn it,” Lev said. “Something’s not right. They must be jamming us from somewhere else.”

“Then how the hell can we hear them?”

“How the hell should I know? This is all one big fiery shit-storm and we’re the only ones without an umbrella!”

“Can they hear me?”

“Not sure,” Lev replied as he began moving his hands about the air again. “Keep talking, I’ll see if I can locate—”

Static broke through the radio and a familiar voice began to speak.

“This is Bravo team leader William Bond. HQ and the main advance is gone. All units, be advised. Crimson Fall. I say again, Crimson Fall.”

Gene paused, staring at the burning city as the silence dominated the blown out terminal at Reagan International once more. Even Lev paused from his absorbing work, shock filling his eyes.

Crimson Fall.

It was
the call sign meant to symbolize their defeat and immediate retreat. Gene tried to suppress the pain that rose within—an anguish that threatened to dissolve his sanity. A few minutes ago, he had dared to dream he was at the end of his long quest for vengeance and wrapping a noose around Lukas’ neck. Now, he wondered how many of his friends had died for nothing more than America’s defeat.

No
, he thought.
My defeat
.

Gene thought about their families, now defenseless widows and orphans alone in a land full of chaos and war. He wanted to weep for them all; he wanted to cry and beg them to forgive his failure to protect the nation he had guarded for three decades.

Instead of letting remorse seize his lucidity in those brief moments, he fed the raging inferno of fury that grew inside. His inner chest pocket that held the poem he had penned years ago suddenly felt hot and heavy, like burning steel grounding him upon a sea of molten rock. He stoked the flames by concentrating on Lukas Chambers, the Patriarchs, and every other traitor that had brought death upon his men. He had used his foreign contacts to covertly beg for support, but even they had failed to give him much more than Marc’s Commandos and Lev’s expertise. It was almost as though the entire world had already declared America unsalvageable during the final months she struggled for breath. As a young man, Gene had been told that the only thing necessary for evil to triumph was for good men to do nothing. Gene, however, had since discovered the real truth.