“So here’s the actual plan.”
The four sat together as usual, preparing for their final offensive. A restrained tenseness filled the air. Still, with exception to Watson, Ben, Jones, and Lisa all wore a relaxed expression, sipping their respective beverages at a restrained pace. Watson looked as nervous as usual, his lips strained with anxiety, but his eyes were clear with direction.
Instead of a wide, open room, the four sat all huddled up around a single computer terminal. They were situated in the officer’s lounge in Area-51’s core. It had all the things you’d expect from such a room - nice, velvet chairs, lots and lots of medals, and a couple liquor cabinets paid by taxpayer money.
“What’s that?” Watson asked, pointing at the monitor. “Wow. I didn’t know you could do that with a computer.”
Jones sat in front of the screen, and gave Watson a bemused glance. “Paraplegic kids could do this with an iPad,” Jones said, “at least in my world.”
“Yeah, yeah, we get it, mighty-world-traveller.” Ben snorted. ”Just get to the point.”
Jones swished the mouse around and gave it a couple clicks. “Well, Steiner gave me this.” He said. “It’s a… map.”
“Really now?” Lisa snorted.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m kinda confused, too. I ain’t ever seen this before. But from what I can tell-” Jones typed a set of commands, “-it’s… A map containing two pieces of vital information. All known location of anti-government movements and the location of the Russian battalion.”
Ben lowered his eyebrows. “That’s a lot of dots. Especially on the coast.”
Jones laughed. “Good for us.”
“I’m still not fully on-board with this.” Ben said, leaning back. “Look, I don’t think you guys have given this enough thought. Do you even know who’s going to be doing the fighting if a war breaks out?”
Lisa turned to Ben. “We know, Ben.” She said. “It’ll be the brainwashed military. But we won’t let it come to that.”
“Oh really?” Ben said. “We have an awful habit of shooting at each other, if you don’t know.”
Jones flipped through a couple screens. “Just gotta make sure we don’t let that happen, then.”
Ben let out a surprised laugh. “And suddenly you’re the Good Guy? You think I believe that?”
“Believe what you will. I don’t really care.” Jones said. “But it ain’t me you have to trust. Steiner’s give this plan a lot of thought, and he’s had plenty of time. Lisa obviously approves.”
“Funny hearing you giving a shit, is all.” Ben said. “You’re pretty prone to getting people screwed.”
Jones chuckled. “You aren’t wrong. It would make shit easier if it really came down to an all-out war.”
“But?”
Jones smugly grinned. “I’ll give your methods a spin, is all.” He glanced back towards Watson for a moment. “Change of mind, maybe.”
“Isn’t that a Christmas miracle.” Ben shook his head. “Whatever. So what’s your genius goodie-two-shoes plan?”
Jones pointed at the screen. “As you can see- this is the battalion. Roughly five hundred kilometers off the closest American port. Two ports, actually. There’s also a small detachment unit close to the west coast.“
“The main Battalion is between Quebec and Maine. They’re pretty good ships, from what Steiner’s said. It’ll raise an eyebrow for sure.”
“So what, we call em’ in, and have them bomb the cities?” Ben asked.
“We don’t have to do that, is the point.” Jones said. “With radar equipment and drones, a battalion of slow-as-shit warships will be detected as in a second. They’ll be ready hours before they see land.”
“And?”
“Appropriate military response is fortify the fuck out and brace for impact.” Jones grinned. ”We use that to our advantage. The enemy prolly won’t expect us to strike so soon. While the military’s distracted, we show up, and steal the show. We just need to win before the fight breaks out. When we capture the White House, we just issue the ports to surrender.”
“And that’s… What, that simple?”
“Of course it won’t be that easy.” Lisa sighed. ”That’s obvious. While the military’s distracted, we don’t believe for a moment that there won’t be resistance- knowing our enemy, Lizards.”
Ben scratched his head. “Why’re you two so insistent with this, then?”
“Because,” Lisa said, “this is as good as it gets. Sure, I’d prefer to have airstrikes and armies to command, but we don’t have that time.”
Ben slowly breathed in- and out. “Let’s assume this crazy plan actually works, then.” He said. “What are you going to do about the other problem? The Lizardmen, what, matriarchs?”
Jones tapped at a bundle of red dots. “That’s where these come in.” He enhanced the image and opened up a page full of details. “These are insurgents, like you and me. We’ve got communications open.”
“As you can see, at least one group per state. Steiner says we can get most of em’ onboard with our plan. They’ll strike the other three matriarchs-” Jones moved the cursor again, “in Texas, Washington State, and Commiefornia.”
“When exactly do you propose will this all go down?” Ben asked.
“Including prep,” Jones paused, “within three days.”
“Three days?” Ben spat his drink. “Three? Including the trip there, that’s what- five days?”
Lisa shook her head. “Three, including the trip there, actually. The boys are packing up.”
Ben rubbed his palm against his face. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
Watson rubbed Ben’s back. “I was talking to the guys downstairs. They seemed to be ready.”
Ben turned around. “You too, Watson?” He asked. “I was hoping we’d at least have one sane person here.”
Watson nervously chuckled. “Well, they wouldn’t listen anyways.”
“That’s not a good thing.” Ben said. “I can’t believe this is happening. When the hell did you become the official strategist anyways, Jones?”
Jones shrugged. “Tell me if you’ve got a better plan.”
After a moment of contemplation, Ben slammed his fist against the table. ”God damn it.”
----------------------------------------
The cars were fitted with the newest tech in a hurry, and it showed. Watson’s cranky Leyland was still stripped to the bare, the holes and blanks patched with cheap sheet metal. It had more gaps than a teabag still. Jones would’ve been all-too-happy to scrap the car and grab a new one, but with the scale of the mission, all vehicles were as valuable as it got.
Weapons were plentiful in the old base. Hundreds of firearms of all sizes and calibers, some even prototypical, futuristic weapons amongst the bunch. The worthiest finds were the xenotech armaments. There weren’t plenty, but there were a couple needles in the haystack. They’d encountered the black boom-tube before, but the plasma-tungsten rifle was a welcome addition.
Everything was loaded up. Anything that could provide advantage. That included anything from anti-material grade sniper rifles to a can of reptile repellent. When the storage was cleaned bare, and everything deemed worthwhile was taken, they set the explosive charges.
They couldn’t risk leaving the gate unprotected. As potentially awesome as it was, it was also a potential titanic-sized hole in their plot. Steiner shed a tear as they watched the entire base crumble.
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The vehicles set out at midday, just eleven hours since their last battle. The caravan was split into five groups of four to lower suspicion. Each set moved out at a twenty-minute interval, and all were set to take slightly different routes.
The sunshine was pale. No clouds swam in the infinite blue skies. The day was immaculate.
“Guess we’re kissin’ this desert goodbye, then.” Jones said, looking out of the windows.
“I guess so.” Watson said, his eyes fixated on the roads. “Do you think your toilet’s still out there?”
Jones laughed. “Well, I’ve been wanting to piss for a while.” He said. “Wanna go search for your Cadillac out there?”
Watson shuddered. ”Oh lord.” He said. “I’d really rather not. Besides, I’ve grown fond of this car.”
“What, this heap of junk?” Jones kicked the glovebox and watched the latch fall off. “Guess it’s at least better than that thing.”
“It was a premium car, Jones,” Watson sniffled, “I hadn’t even paid off my loans for it.”
“Well, this goes well, you won’t have to bother with that anymore.” Jones smirked. ”Not that you’d have to if we failed, either.”
Watson rubbed his neck. ”Don’t bring that up, please.”
“We’ll be fine, Watson.” Jones pulled on his ear. “We came this far, haven’t we?”
Jones’s hand was slapped away. “I think you just jinxed it. That’s a bad flag.”
“Please, what do you think this is, a shitty webnovel?” Jones said. “Believe in the mojo, or whatever the hippies call it. That’s how gamblers win.”
“Don’t they all go bankrupt?” Watson said.
“Those aren’t proper gamblers.”
Watson sighed. “I get it. Well, it isn’t as scary as it used to be, I guess.”
“I guess the extra pants I packed were unnecessary, huh?”
Jones was met with an embarrassed glare. “Ha-ha.”
Then the car fell silent. For a while, the two travelled so, comfortable in their mutual silence. With passing hour, the scenery changed, from forests to mountains, from mountains to lakes, from lakes to deserts. The vastness of their country could be felt with each shift. They only stopped for petrol and snacks, switching drivers every once in a while.
“Do you think we’ll have times like this after all this?” Watson asked. Sitting in the passenger’s seat, he glimpsed out into the sunset.
“Who knows?” Jones said. “Don’t put the car before the engine. Focus on this first.”
“But don’t you ever think about what you want to do afterwards?” Watson watched as the trees zoomed by. “I used to do that often. I’m not so sure anymore.”
“What’s there to think about? Just go back home and play sudoku or something.”
Watson smiled. “I was thinking about that, actually. But I’m just not sure.”
Jones glanced at Watson. “What’re you thinkin’ about, then?”
“I mean…” Watson paused, his smile slowly flattening. “I used to help out in soup kitchens and all. I thought I was helping the community, but after all this… It just seems like maybe I could do more.”
Jones chuckled.
“I just never thought I could be useful in something like this.” Watson admitted. He straightened his back and turned to the driver’s seat. “You have anything planned, Jones?”
“There’s this mission I’m looking forward to. You might’ve heard of it.” Jones said. “Nah. Well, maybe… But it ain’t anything definite. Just thinkin’ about that gate, is all.”
Watson shifted around in his seat.
“You tryin’ to say something?”
“...It’s obvious, huh?” Watson sighed. ”Are you trying to… go back?”
“Being blunt? Good to see that for a change.” Jones smiled. ”I don’t know.”
The sun set behind the mountains as a quiet car drove down a lonely path.
----------------------------------------
The diner was a quiet, dingy place, built at the edge of the sleeping suburbs. It was a quiet evening, and most people were too busy watching football or drama reruns. The place was staffed by a single obese woman, who was too distracted by sparkling vampires on tv to care about the cast of shady individuals ordering fries and shakes.
Slowly but sure, the cars piled up on the parking lot. Many opted to park elsewhere, some even left behind dozens of meters away, as to not attract attention. Not that that was necessary, though. The streets were as quiet as it gets, and people didn’t care that much.
This was it- Washington D. C. Thirty kilometers left to go.
The gang- the three musketeers plus Watson- sat in the corner, plotting and munching away.
“So here’s the thing.” Lisa said. “There is one small complication to this entire plan.”
“Good thing there’s only one, huh?” Ben said, looking as if nothing could be any more ridiculous. “Just what new impossible complication are we facing?”
Lisa delivered swift punishment with a punt. “Cut it out, Ben. We’ve come this far.” She said. “Besides, it’s… Manageable.”
“So what’s... This problem?” Watson asked, inching closer.
Lisa pointed at a layout of the White House, and circled the staircase. “This place.” She frowned.
“The basement?” Jones raised his brow. “What about it?”
“Well, the thing is…” Lisa paused, “Steiner said the facility is located in the White House.”
“Meaning?” Ben asked.
“Meaning,” Lisa emphasized each syllable, “that there’s probably some kind of base down there.”
“Oh.” Watson blinked.
“For fuck’s sake…” Ben slammed the table. The hostess didn’t care. “Really?”
Jones kept reaching for fries and condiments. ”Well, that’s kinda gay.” He said. ”But it ain’t nothing we can’t manage, right?”
“The thing is,” Lisa said, “Steiner seemed rather sure this was also used to produce… Alien machinery. He was talking about flying saucers and zappers, whatever that means.”
Jones merely chuckled.
“This is getting more and more stupid by the minute.” Ben said, leaning onto the table. “I can’t believe we’re going through with this.”
“Well, deal with it.” Jones patted him on the back. “Stop being so mopey.”
Lisa coughed, vying to get their attention. “If you’d all focus…” she said, “we should still talk about our strategy, just to be sure.”
“I think that would be best.” Watson gulped, and pulled out a notepad. “I’ll write stuff down.”
Jones sipped his shake. “You got any ideas?”
“Well, I think splitting the group into four is the best.” She said. “We need to make the roles within each groups clear. We need someone good with tech, one good with explosives, and a good leader on each team.”
“Sounds reasonable.” Jones watched Watson scribble notes down.
Ben raised his voice. “If you’re gonna go for that, designate a small unit for scouting.” He said. “Knowing what’s ahead is vital. We’ve got those nifty remote-cams, right? Those would be very useful.”
“Sure.” Lisa said. “But who’d lead them?”
A long pause ensued. “I’ll do it.” Ben said, his eyes brimming with annoyance. “Listen, I don’t like this plan at all. But I honestly think I’m the best at this, so I may as well give it my all.”
“Wise words.” Jones gave one clap. “Good to see you do more than bitch.”
That earned him a glare. “Please. I’ve barely started.” Ben said. ”You better write ‘I Told You So’ on my grave when I inevitably become Swiss Cheese.”
“You shouldn’t say that.” Watson looked up from his notes and nervously laughed. “Um, I don’t know how effective this would be, but I thought it could be a good idea to barricade the doors and leave a camera behind us. Maybe even a small group, although I’m uncomfortable leaving people behind. You know, so we know when reinforcements get in.”
“Sounds good.” Lisa nodded. “Anything else we’re missing? Basic training should cover the rest.”
They all glanced amongst each other.
“That’s that, then.” Lisa sighed. ”I’ll assign the teams before we get there. Rest up while you still can. The Battalion’s arriving in fifteen minutes. Distraction should be a go in three hours.”
The dinner was completed in utter silence. Watson could understand every single cheesy line spoken from the television and tried his best to still his stomach for the upcoming battle.
----------------------------------------
The cars rolled towards the White House, split into two seperate groups.
From the distance, they’d already discovered that the place was fortified. It wouldn’t be an easy walk-and win. But they had ideas. Good ones, at that. Two little surprises had they prepared- gas grenades and explosives. It was a tried-and-tested combo for a good reason.
Following traditions, the battle started with a bang and chaos. Smoke filled the vicinity, but it didn’t seem to impact the Lizards much. Those centered here were dressed for combat, and their masks and goggles gave a very futuristic look. They clearly served a purpose. Yet, they were surprised. They clearly didn’t anticipate an attack; the fortifications and soldier presence was too light for that.
But no matter. This much, they’d expected. A volley of flashbangs were thrown, followed by a series of explosives hurled against the giant fence surrounding the White House. The battle could be halted here on its tracks if everything went wrong.
Nothing could go wrong.
First, the Humvees rolled in. Crashing through cracked and shattered bricks and mortar, the Humvees led the charge onto the property, their engines roaring in clear defiance. Bullets lit the dark, starless sky, the streaks of bright, flashing lights crashing against the sturdy metal.
One of the following cars was hit badly. The engine flared, smoked, and crashed. The driver, determined for the mission to succeed, veered the failing vehicle away from the safety of the smoke and flashbangs, opting to kamikaze into a pack of guards instead. Watson was horrified at the sounds it made, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the road. Jones clicked and cycled his gun like crazy, spraying bullet after bullet like a hose.
Without much more incident, they managed to reach the White House itself. The Humvees crashed through the doors, the splinters sent flying towards the bewildered guards. Without any worry, they drove as far as they could. The smaller cars drifted into a protective barrier around the Humvees, which were placed right in front of the large central staircase.
Everyone rushed out of the cars and lifted the trunks with lightning speed. They grabbed the satchels full of ammunition and explosives. They’d packed absolutely everything. Thermite, C4, Dynamite, Nitroglycerin, Gunpowder… They had enough to bring the entire building down thrice over. Four groups of twenty made for a mad dash to the basement while another fifteen stayed behind, opting to fortify the staircase behind them.
Underground, they encountered a large, password-coded steel door. They didn’t have any time to unlock it the conventional way. The first one to arrive gave a crude shout and rolled a frag grenade. The door was blown off its hinges, revealing a wide underground passage below.
Lisa was the last to enter. She looked behind and saluted the defenders with a sullen bow.
History would be made, one way or the other.