Worlds Without End: Aftermath (Book 2) Read online

  They all landed within a mile of one another in alligator-infested Florida swamps. They could still communicate via their comlinks, but were unable to move. With no help and after several days without food or fresh water, Chris decided to try something that he didn’t even believe would work: prayer. An atheist growing up, he never even considered that God existed. After his prayer, he waited. But after several more hours of pure agony from pain, hunger, and thirst, nothing happened – his proof that God didn’t exist. Nonetheless, just as he and his crew were about to give up, a strange man came out of nowhere. The man had dark hair and large black eyes that seemed to look right into his soul. He was dressed in denim pants and a plaid shirt, with hiking shoes. Other than that, he had no other items with him.

  Chris remembered asking the man who he was. The man never introduced himself, but just said, “I am the answer to your prayer.”

  He recalled the man touching his forehead, and suddenly his entire body was healed and energized. He then led the man to the other members of his team. The man healed them as well. Once they were together, the man informed them that the Gnols were gathering leaders of the United States at a small camp in Mason Neck State Park in Virginia. He also told them that the Gnols had already executed the President and his Cabinet members. All that remained were a few members of Congress and the Senate.

  Chris could specifically remember turning to the man to ask him a question. But as soon as he did, the man was gone, seeming to disappear into thin air.

  Once they had gathered the necessary traveling supplies, the Ranger team made their way to Fort Bragg in North Carolina, which was partially destroyed and abandoned. There, they were able to resupply themselves and then proceeded to make their way north to Mason Neck.

  “Sir?”

  “What?” Chris asked, startled out of his thoughts.

  “I asked, what if it’s a trap?”

  Chris turned and looked at Miguel, flipping up his goggles. Miguel did the same. Chris could barely make out his strong Latino features and dark eyes. “C’mon, Miguel. Do you really think that one of these Gnols would come heal us and then give us sensitive information? Besides, there’s something good about the man. It’s almost like he was sent to us by God Himself.”

  Miguel, a strong Catholic as evidenced by the crucifix that always hung from his neck, gave him an incredulous look. “You don’t believe in God.”

  “I didn’t, bu—”

  The snap of a twig from behind caused them to whirl around and take aim with their modernized MP5 submachine guns pointed directly at the dark figure standing on the bank. The figure held up both hands and stepped carefully into the water. It was the man that had saved them. “Stand down, Sergeant,” Chris ordered.

  They lowered their weapons as the man knelt down next to them. This time, the strange man was dressed in all-black military fatigues. He pointed toward the camp. “The camp isn’t very large. The Gnols set up a temporary ten-foot high fence with barbs at the top, surrounding its perimeter. That cabin is the only building inside the fence. And right now, there are only twelve guards guarding seven prisoners.”

  “Twelve,” Miguel stated with skepticism. “You’ve seen what these Gnols can do. There are only five of us.”

  The man looked at Miguel warmly. “You lack faith, Sergeant. The Gnols have a weakness. They are overconfident in their own abilities and underestimate yours. Right now, they have no idea that you are near. Their defenses are down.” The man then pointed at the lone Gnol transport in the middle of the makeshift camp. “In five minutes, they will be transporting your primary target to an undisclosed location and probably execute the remaining prisoners. When they get the target out into the open … that will be your signal to move. Is the rest of your team ready?”

  Chris nodded. “Corporal Harris and Corporal Lynch are cutting a hole in the fence. We’re just waiting for their signal. Sergeant Rice is on the other side of the camp, near the entrance. She will keep a lookout for us,” he replied. “Who is this guy that you want rescued?”

  “He is Senator Joseph Thompson, President Pro Tempore of the Senate. He’s next in line to serve as President of the United States.” The man paused in thought. “It is very interesting that the Gnols would even know this information. It seems that they are eliminating America’s chain of command one-by-one.”

  Chris nodded and turned back to the camp, flipping his night-vision goggles back over his eyes. He pointed at the transport. “Another question; how do you expect me to fly that? I’ve been trained to fly helicopters. I could probably fly a jet, but this is an alien spaceship.”

  He felt the man’s hand on his shoulder. Instantly, he felt more at ease as a warm sensation reverberated throughout his body. “Have faith, Chris. You will be able to fly it. Once you secure Senator Thompson and the other seven prisoners, transport them to Mount Weather. I will be there, waiting.”

  Even though his trepidation was gone, Chris still had doubts. Everything in his training told him that this mission would fail. Both he and Miguel turned back around.

  “W-where did he go?” Miguel asked.

  “I don’t know, but he sure doesn’t stick around long,” Chris responded as he turned back to look at the camp.

  His comlink crackled and the voice of Corporal Zakary Harris came through. “Sir, we’re ready.”

  “Copy that,” Chris replied. He then radioed Sergeant Rice. “Sergeant Rice, what do you see?”

  The sergeant responded from her secluded position near the entrance of the camp. “So far, it’s quiet. I count four guards at the front gate. Two guards have entered the cockpit of the transport. The back of the transport is open. They’re getting ready to transport the target. The other six are in the cabin, guarding the prisoners.”

  “Copy that. Lopez and I are rendezvousing with Harris and Lynch. Let me know when they bring the target out into the open.”

  “Copy that.”

  Chris and Miguel quickly made their way to the back of the camp where Harris and Lynch were waiting. They had managed to cut a hole small enough for each one of them to sneak through. Both corporals knelt across from one another; their night-vision goggles securely fastened over their eyes.

  “Are your silencers secured?” Chris asked.

  The three other men nodded as they pulled out their Beretta M9 pistols, with silencers attached.

  “This needs to be quick and clean. I don’t want the other guards who are guarding the prisoners inside the cabin alerted. Sergeant Rice, do you have eyes on the guards?”

  “Copy that, sir. I can probably take out two, but the other two I don’t know about.”

  Sergeant Rice was right. She would not be fast enough to take out all of the guards at once. He thought for a moment. “We’ll cause a distraction. Maybe we can separate at least two of them.”

  “Copy that,” she replied.

  Chris then turned his attention to the soldiers in front of him. “Lopez, Lynch, you two sneak in and hide behind the deck of the cabin,” he ordered, pointing to the deck.

  The two Rangers moved stealthily to their positions behind the deck. Chris then ordered Corporal Harris to move to the opposite side of the cabin. There was hedge nearby that he could hide behind.

  Once Harris was in position, he radioed Sergeant Rice again. “Rice, any indication of movement in the cabin yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Copy that. I’m about to cause a distraction. If my guess is correct, at least two of the guards will leave their posts to investigate. Once I give you the order, take out the two remaining guards.”

  “Understood.”

  Chris then moved with the same stealth and speed to a spot behind the deck next to Lopez and Lynch. Once he was there, he picked up a rock about the size of his fist and signaled to both men to take out the guards. They signaled that they understood. He then whispered to Sergeant Rice, “I’m ready to cause a distraction. Let me know how many guards come to investigate.”

  �
��Copy that.”

  Squeezing the rock in his hand, he threw it as hard as he could toward the fence, which was only twenty yards away. The chain link rattled, making enough noise for only the guards outside to hear.

  “Two guards are heading in your direction, sir.”

  “Copy that,” Chris replied as he signaled for Lopez and Lynch to get ready.

  Chris was thankful that he guessed right. Two Gnol guards, dressed in their usual battle gear, appeared around the corner of the cabin opposite the side where Corporal Harris was hiding. The guards made their way to the hole. One of the guards was about to reach up into his ear to activate his comlink and alert his fellow soldiers when Lopez and Lynch fired two silent rounds from their pistols into each one of the guards’ backs. As soon as the two guards fell to the ground, Lopez and Lynch rushed toward them and fired two more rounds into their bodies just to make sure they were dead.

  Chris then ordered Corporal Harris to move from his current position behind the hedges to the transport. “Hold steady, Rice. Wait until Harris is in position.”

  “Understood,” she answered.

  Lopez and Lynch dragged the two dead Gnols back to their original position and pushed their bodies under the deck. After a few more seconds, Corporal Harris reported from his position behind the transport. “I’m in position, sir.”

  “Good. Do you have a shot at the two pilots within the shuttle?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, wait until we are in position,” Chris said. He then ordered Lopez to take a position on one side of the cabin, and then he and Lynch took positions on the other side.

  “Sir,” Rice said. “There’s movement in the cabin.”

  Chris cursed, and then he heard the engines to the shuttle start. “Harris, Rice, take ‘em out,” he ordered as he peered around the corner. He had a clear view of the two guards at the front gate and the two pilots within the shuttle. Sergeant Rice fired, taking out her targets. At the same time, Corporal Harris fired two direct shots into the backs of the pilots. “Move! Move!”

  He continued to watch as Corporal Harris entered the transport, propped one pilot up to make it look like he was sitting upright, and then removed the other pilot, taking his helmet off and placing it over his own head to make it look like he was the pilot. Sergeant Rice quickly made her way to the other side of the transport, hidden from the cabin entrance.

  As soon as she hid out of view, two other Gnol guards exited the cabin. Between them was their target. The man was blindfolded, his hands were bound behind his back, and his suit was rumpled and in disarray. “Lopez, go now.”

  The guards had escorted the man off the porch a few more yards when Lopez made his move. He rushed forward, firing three silent rounds into the Gnol closest to him. The Gnol dropped to the ground, pulling the prisoner down with him. Lopez tried to fire a round at the other Gnol, but he dropped suddenly to the ground, clutched his head, and screamed in agony.

  Chris snapped his head toward Corporal Lynch. “Get to Rice and help provide cover fire!”

  Lynch ran around Chris on his way to the other side of the shuttle as Chris jumped out from his hiding spot and prepared to shoot the Gnol who was about to overtake his good friend. But before he could get a shot off, the Gnol whipped around, raised a powerful left arm, and telekinetically lifted him into the air.

  “Shoot him!” Chris hollered, just as the burly Gnol flicked his wrist, sending him crashing through one of the cabin windows. The air rushed out of his lungs as he landed on the hardwood floor with a thud. Shards of sharp glass slashed along his face. He heard the screams and gasps of some of the prisoners as he writhed on the floor, trying to regain his wind.

  “What do we have here?” a Gnol said, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him off of the floor. “Looks like we have a pitiful excuse for a human soldier.” The guard then threw him headlong into the opposite wall of the cabin.

  Luckily for Chris, however, his battle helmet shielded most of the impact from the wall. He then crashed through a solid oak nightstand before hitting the floor. But before the Gnol could grab him again, he pushed himself up to his knees, grabbed his dagger, and sent it hurtling toward the oncoming guard. In his arrogance, the Gnol didn’t try to avoid it. Instead, he lifted his right arm to try and invisibly catch the knife. But because of its speed, it penetrated right through the Gnol’s palm, stopping at its hilt. The guard screamed in pain, clutching his wounded hand.

  This gave Chris enough time to whip around his MP5 submachine gun, which was strapped on his back. He fired directly into the wounded Gnol’s chest. Two of the three remaining guards quickly pulled their plasma rifles up, taking aim at him. Chris lunged sideways over the sofa in the room, pulling it back with him to provide cover just as they fired. Hot plasma blasts discharged from their guns, first exploding the couch into flames, and then throwing him into the wall with such force that he nearly blacked out. As soon as he regained focus, he heard fire from another MP5 submachine gun.

  Jumping to his feet, he saw Sergeant Rice and Corporal Lynch standing in the cabin with their smoking guns pointing at the one remaining Gnol. The Gnol held a woman in his grip, his dagger blade cutting slightly into her neck across her carotid artery. Tears streamed down the brunette’s face. Her business suit was tattered and torn and she had a swollen eye from an obvious beating.

  Chris took a few steps forward, pointing his own MP5 at the Gnol. “There’s no way out of this. You’ve got two choices. You kill her; we kill you. Or … you surrender.”

  The Gnol’s dark eyes darted between him and the other two Rangers in the room. Recognizing his dire situation, he dropped the woman and his knife and held up his hands.

  “Cuff him and secure him in the transport,” Chris ordered, nodding toward Corporal Lynch. Sweat dripped off Jeremiah Lynch’s ebony skin as he cuffed the Gnol and then escorted him to the transport.

  Sergeant Drew Rice approached Chris with an arrogant smile on her face as sweat dripped off her fair skin. Despite her soft features, she had proven to be one of the most cunning warriors he had ever met. Wisps of brown hair escaped her battle helmet as her brown eyes met his. “Lopez is unconscious. I think he’ll be okay. I don’t know what that Gnol did to him. Whatever it was, he’s out cold. We managed to take that Gnol out after he flung you through that window.”

  Chris nodded as he wiped trickles of blood from the cuts on his face with his sleeve. “What about the target?”

  “He’s secure and in the transport.”

  “Good,” he replied, looking at the faces of the six remaining prisoners, all of whom had looks of panic on their faces. Two of the six were women; the brunette the Gnol had held hostage was somewhere in her fifties. The other was younger, maybe in her thirties. The four other men were older, possibly in their fifties or sixties. Their dresses and business suits were tattered and worn. They were obviously members of the Senate or Congress.

  Chris sighed in relief and looked at them. “It’s okay. We’re taking you to Mount Weather.”

  * * * * *

  Two hours later. Mount Weather Emergency Operations Center. Blue Ridge Mountains, Virginia . . .

  Hidden deep underground within the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, the Mount Weather Operations Center has been used as the center of operations for the government of the United States whenever there has been a national crisis. In this case, however, the only remnants of the federal government that remained were fifteen representatives from the House of Representatives, five Senators, and one Supreme Court Justice. The only branch of government not present within the underground facility was the Executive Branch, consisting of the President, the Vice President, and the Cabinet. They had either been killed or were missing.

  Lt. Colonel Christopher Peterson sat upright on the gurney in the infirmary of the center. A young nurse attended to the cuts on his face. He moved his eyes slightly to the right, and looked at his good friend in the bed next to him, who was still unconscious. Turning bac
k to the nurse, he asked, “Did the doc say if Lopez would be okay or not?”

  The nurse, a young woman in her early twenties, looked at him with sad eyes. He could tell that she had lost family in the attack like almost everyone else on Earth. “He has been through a CT scan. There’s no significant damage. He should wake up in a matter of hours.”

  Chris smiled his acknowledgment and looked past her as two men entered the infirmary. One of the men was the mystery man he had encountered twice before, still dressed in black military fatigues. The other was the newly appointed President of the United States, Joseph Thompson. He too was still dressed in his war-tattered suit.

  “Would you excuse us, nurse?” President Thompson asked as he and the mystery man made their way next to the bed.

  “Thanks,” Chris said to her.

  She smiled shyly and left the room.

  President Thompson extended his hand. “Thank you, Colonel. Thank you to you and your team for rescuing us.”

  “Just doing my duty, sir,” Chris replied, turning to the strange man. “If it wasn’t for …”

  “John. My name is John.”

  Chris smiled and turned back to the president. “If it wasn’t for John, we wouldn’t be alive, and you might be in a grave by now.”

  “Yes, I know. John has been instrumental in our plans to retake our planet.”

  Chris looked at John curiously. Who is this guy? he thought. Despite not knowing him, there was something great about the man. Goodness seemed to emanate from his entire being. It was as if light radiated from his body. Whatever it was, Chris trusted him implicitly.