Chapter 2: Raining Hellfire and Brimstone

John McIntire

“Hellfire One, this is Brimstone Actual. Do you read?” John let go of the broadcast button on his control ‘throne’, as the techs kept calling it no matter how many times he protested the name, and waited for a response.

“Brimstone Actual this is Hellfire One. We read you loud and clear. Do you have an update on mission parameters?”

John hit the button again. “Yes. A column of six infantry trucks left the compound approximately two hours ago according to drone footage. The column is due back at the compound about the same time as whatever is left of the armored force that attacked us will be on scene.”

“Understood Brimstone Actual. Adjusting course now. Any further instructions, Brimstone?

“Negative. Proceed on mission. From here on, Hellfire Actual has operational command.”

The voice of Max came over the radio. “Brimstone Actual, this is Hellfire Actual. Confirmed, I have operational command.”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

John sighed and leaned back in his chair. He refused to think of it as a thorne no matter what the egghead techs kept calling it. It stretched his spine out, and he felt a satisfying pop. He had been sitting here since the fighting had finished the night before.

“Sir, perhaps you should take a break. Get some rest. I can handle managing the repair crews, and organizing watch details along the line.” Major Cranton said, standing next to John’s seat. “Your peers have already taken time to rest. You should too sir.”

Cranton was right. John’s eyes were already losing focus, and there was only so much caffeine pills and concentrated black coffee could do to keep someone awake and alert. He was pretty sure he was about to hit that point. And he didn’t want to force Cranton into the position of having him escorted off the command bridge. Post. Center. Whatever they were calling this metal box that could move along the top of the wall.

He shook his head, clearing it for a moment. That thought alone was proof enough to him that he had reached his limit. “Alright. Major Cranton you have the con.”

“Yes sir. I have control.”

John left then, taking the stairs one careful step at a time. Half way down the stairs he had hit his wall, and his mind and his body's reaction to his mental orders felt sluggish.

He got to his cabin, and was having trouble sliding his card through the reader. A few seconds into the ordeal the door slid open on its own, and the most beautiful woman he had ever seen filled his vision.

“Oh. I’d almost forgotten.” Was all he got out before she wrapped him in a tight hug and squeezed. Somewhere he found the energy to return the gesture, and for a few blissful minutes they stood there, enjoying each other's embrace.

For the first time in nearly a year, he felt at home.