"…the…heads were like the heads of lions, and out of their mouths came fire, smoke, and sulfur…" – Revelation, Ch. 8: 7
"Sir, the report you requested."
The Erusian Prime Minister looked up from his work at the lieutenant holding a folder above him. He took it from the man, who saluted and left. The cover of the report read, "Security Clearance Level Red: Top Secret." Inside, a title page with the words "Sonnatrac Alert and Search System" greeted his eyes. This was about the 'Sphynx,' and its new radar, which was now apparently finished.
The account detailed the last test firing, in which the 'Sphynx' was calculated to miss only 2 of the time, an astounding success. The Minister cheered and shouted as loud as he could when he read about this, and that the 'Sphynx' was now ready for military usage(giving his secretary quite the scare). He picked up the phone and dialed the number for the XAM-001 compound.
"Prime Minister sir."
"Hello, Tyler. Please put this on speaker phone for the rest of the engineers and workers." The line was silent for a few seconds as Tyler switched the Minister to a speaker phone line. "All ready, sir."
"Your attention, gentlemen. I have just concluded reading your report on your progress with the XAM-001 and… SASS. I must say, the success of this project is amazing, congratulations."
The engineers who had been listening nervously now grinned and shook hands among themselves. The Minister recalled everyone's focus.
"Now however, marks the beginning of the true trials and tribulations. Your orders are clear, you are to begin attacks on IFOM and Yuke forces at once. An appeal for aid has recently come from Rigley Air Force base; it is under attack from IFOM aces, most importantly Falcon 4 and Pitch 7, infamous for their skills. You are to kill all the pilots in the air above that base, our pilots will have received a warning before your attacks, and they will descend to below one thousand feet, avoiding the Sonnatrac Radar and minimizing chances of friendly fire. That is all for now, good luck. Now get to work gentlemen!"
The line went dead as the Minister hung up; immediately a scramble of engineers, operators, and electricians began, a general chaos in the 'Sphynx' facility, as everyone rushed to do their jobs.
"This is Hawkeye, watch your shots Falcon 4! Don't hit the runway!"
Marshall sighed, it wasn't easy to miss Rigley's runway while chasing a Blue Squadron pilot. Other than some collateral, the battle was going well. The Blue Squad had scrambled from Rigley to intercept the Falcon, Pitch, and Kvant (A Yuke squad was accompanying the regular IFOM pilots to help decrease casualties) Squads, who were tasked with destroying key components to the base for when the ground forces would attempt to take it. These enemy pilots were fairly inexperienced, as they weren't on the front lines. They were all flying F-16S Hunter Falcons as well, making them easy prey for the IFOM aces.
"Yeah, splash one!"
"Good kill seven!" Marshall shouted over the radio to his Pitch friend, "Just a few more left, do you think I'll end up with more kills than you today?"
"Eh, I'd say it's more likely that Razgriz will rise from the South Sea," Nelson joked in return. Marshall laughed, and turned after one of the enemy bandits that had just whizzed by him.
"I've got him now, just wait seven…" The bandit swerved and jinked all over, and the tone wouldn't get a clear lock-on. "Dammit, stay still you idiot," Four cursed. The little diamond on his HUD danced around the enemy plane as it tried to establish a lock. Finally, it jumped onto the target.
"All right! Fox-"
Marshall's sentence was cut off as the bandit performed a miraculous roll and dived, straight for the deck. "Holy crap, that guy's pretty fast," Marshall said, stunned. Even he couldn't roll that fast. "Must of had a pretty good reason to get away so fast."
Four checked his radar, then looked in front of him, bewildered. The enemy bandits, all of them, had dived below a thousand feet, and were now swarming over one spot, away from Rigley. None of the Falcon, the Pitch, or the Kvant pilots could understand it.
"What are they doing? Disengaging and reforming?" "Can't be, they're staying separate and going pretty fast." "Well you got me! What should we do?" The confusion was turned to fear by Hawkeye's transmission.
"Attention all aircraft! We have an incoming on radar, we have no idea what it is! Brace for impact, ETA ten seconds!"
The pilots each counted down mentally, waiting…
"Five…four…three…two…one…"
The sky turned to fire, the sun was shadowed by a bright beam of light that shot over the horizon and collided with one of the Kvant planes. The laser was trained on the jet for just seconds, but it exploded and disintegrated, taking the pilot with it. Small bits of metal fluttered down to the earth.
"Holy hell! What was that!" Marshall was appalled, he had no idea what had just happened, except that one of his allies lost his life. The other pilots were cussing and yelling, screaming at Hawkeye for instructions, at Kvant 6 to respond, at the enemy…
"Hawkeye here, another round coming, ETA fifteen seconds, I suggest you men get a move on!"
"What do we do! Fly underground so they can't see us!"
A stroke of genius hit Marshall. "Of course," he thought, "The enemy, they all dived below a thousand feet, this…this must be why!"
"Five, four, three, two…"
"EVERYBODY DIVE! GET BELOW ONE ANGEL!" Marshall bellowed at his wingmen, who were shocked out of their daze by four's message. They reacted slowly, and so another aircraft, this time Falcon 14, was hit, and also killed. Four swore, and looked at the smoke and metal shimmering where his jet had been just milliseconds before. He didn't listen to Hawkeye's third warning.
The heavens lit up again, and Marshall saw that his plane seemed to be engulfed in a soft pink glow. He was diving, fast, gaining speed, and was closing in fast on the ground. He didn't care, he knew it was over anyway. He pulled back on the stick and leveled out, all while closing his eyes. His plane began shaking violently, as if it were ripping itself apart, rivet by rivet, composite by composite.
And then it stopped.
The men working the Sonnatrac Radar System watched as all of their targets above Rigley disappeared. They apparently had learned of their trick, and descended to a safe altitude below the radar's tracking range. They wondered if any of the three aircraft they thought confirmed destroyed had been one of the aces.
Brian Marshall opened his eyes. He was not dead. His plane was still flying. He was mystified, and scanned his surroundings, wondering how it was that he had survived. At last, his eyes fell upon the altimeter, which read 932 feet. Apparently, his dive caused him to drop below the thousand mark just in time, and the pitching up motion caused the laser to lose track. It was a miracle, and he knew it.
The 'Sphynx' stopped firing at the battle, the operators were ordered to attack a new target, the 'Orange City.'
"Commander sir, we need to evacuate immediately, there's no time to lose!"
Mattock ignored the man, and continued staring out his office window. The 'Sphynx' they had disregarded for so long was now obliterating his city, building by building. A skyscraper close to his command center exploded and collapsed, hit briefly by the carving sickle of annihilation that the Erusians had swung. Thousands of civilians were dying, he knew it, and the Erusians probably knew it too. They were firing blind, Mattock understood (courtesy several spies) that the 'Sphynx' couldn't track targets under a thousand feet. They were just shooting at the city, regardless of whatever the laser hit.
"Sir! They'll be hitting us next! Let's move!"
Mattock allowed himself to be dragged from the building. He watched through tired eyes as officers, generals, lieutenants, the whole crew, clambered over each other, gathering important documents and other things. He was hurried into a motorcade and escorted away, to a secret and hopefully safe bunker. Looking back at the building, he observed its and several other surrounding structures' violent destruction by the laser.
Mattock turned back around, to face his General of the Air Force. "Where are they now?" he asked, referring to a flight of Vapor aircraft sent to attack the 'Sphynx.'
"Sir, well…The Vapor flight…has been effectively vaporized."
Mattock's head sank to his knees. There had been twenty-four aircraft in that formation, and none of them got through, none would be coming home. He sighed deeply, perceiving only one clear way to destroy the 'Sphynx:' a nuclear strike. Air raids could never get close enough due to the double radar defense grid around the 'Sphynx.' Ground forces would most likely be exterminated by the Erusian forces in the area. There was no other option.
"We've got the XAM-001 at sight, target coordinates locked, ready for firing, need authorization."
Mattock stood by as several engineers activated a launch sequence for an ICBM. This time, however, the strike range would be short.
"Okay sir, we need your key over there."
Mattock fitted his key into a small keyhole on the control panel. He turned it, and a red button, covered by a locked slate of bulletproof glass, lit up. One of the generals produced a key from his pocket, and opened the glass.
"Sir. On your orders."
Mattock looked at the button, then at the men sitting nearby, staring at him, waiting.
"Fire, nuke the bastards."
"Okay, we have a confirmed launch activation, all systems go, she's off…"
The missile rose from its tube in the earth and blasted off, rising steadily out of sight. "Alright Commander, if you look at this screen…" An operator switched on a display, and brought up a patch to live footage of the 'Sphynx' compound. The turret was angled up, pointing at the sky, an eerie sight. All else was still, they hadn't detected the missile. The men in the room were relieved, perhaps this would work.
No. It would work.
Falcon 4 touched down at a nearby friendly air base. His wingmen had dealt with the enemy bandits and Rigley, all while at low altitude; he had egressed, his plane was going haywire. The ground and flight crews greeted him with shocked and bewildered faces.
"What? What's the matter?" Marshall asked. A man just pointed to his plane, his mouth hanging open. The F-16S had been stripped bare; its paint was mostly evaporated; some composites were ripped off entirely, leaving delicate electronics showing; a great part of the tail fins and nozzle had been destroyed as well. Everyone, Brian Marshall too, was surprised that he made it this far in this plane.
Another man came running up to the crowd of awed mechanics. He pushed through the throng towards Marshall.
"Hey! Pilot! Follow me, I'll be taking you to your temporary quarters and…"
Marshall did not hear what the man said next in the furor of disbelief surrounding him, but followed after the official anyway, shoving through the drove as well.
A piercing alarm rose at the 'Sphynx' compound. Mattock and the others stared in horror and incredulity as the turret, control room, and radar sites lowered into the ground, disappearing beneath a massive steel plate, that slid shut over top of the structures.
A streak of orange dashed through the sky, the ICBM. Directly after, the nuke detonated, sending shock waves out the disabled the camera. The transmission lost, the officials had no notion if the strike had succeeded in knocking out the facility.
Within minutes, an SI-96 Sierra, the newest reconnaissance plane out of Osea, capable of Mach 6, was on its way to the target area. These planes had been flying non-stop over Usea, Osea, and Belka, observing Erusian and Belkan movements. These recon jets first discovered the 'Sphynx.'
Now they showed that the turret and all its facilities remained undamaged, secure under the unscarredsteel plate. The evidence was undeniable: there really was no known, no conceivable way, to destroy the 'Sphynx.'
Everyone in the command room of the bunker was silent, devastated by the photographs and scans the SI-96 had taken. They waited, holding their breath, for the final hammer blow to fall, Mattock's decision.
He too was quiet for some time. When he finally spoke, his voice trembled and quavered, as if unsteady and crushed by this turn of events. "We…we can't stay any longer… If innocent people will just keep getting killed, then we shouldn't draw such ruin towards them. We…will withdraw to Osea and Yuktobania for now, all…all of us, our men, our machines… until we can make a… plan. We should…be safe there, out of range of…it," he forced the last word out before going silent again.