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Ishmael’s eyes were wide open, wildly flicking back and forth from Lemuel’s face to the ceiling behind him. “I – I – I can’t -“

Lemuel sighed. Time for the usual act, he thought, as he shrugged and stood up. “Then I’m afraid I can’t help you. He turned his back and walked to the entrance of the room as one of the angels wrung out a wet cloth and fitted it over Ishmael’s face, the other raising a bucket of water. There was a second of splashing, then a howl of terror. Lemuel frowned; this wasn’t necessary; the prisoner had been pretty much broken already, and all he needed was a push in the right direction. He turned around, intending to stop them, but they were done: Ishmael had already broken, he was gibbering and sobbing with raw, undiluted terror.

As he quietly noted down the information Ishmael was pouring out, the names of family, friends, acquaintances, contacts identified from surveillance, and where he’d been in the last week, Lemuel was aghast at the potential scope of the treachery. What had started out as the pursuit of a heretic had turned into something much larger. For a moment, Lemuel understood why Michael-Lan held the position he did; he must have realized the full enormity of the threat as soon as he’d seen that human bottle. Michael had always said if the humans on Earth could get a foothold in Heaven for their armies, the war would be over. He must have realized the potential of that bottle to be such a foothold. That sublime insight made Lemuel proud to be his friend.

Underground Command Facility, Yamantau, Russia, March 2009

There was a time when no American President had entered the complex deep underneath the granite monolith of Yamantau. In those days, ones that seemed long ago but were only measured in months rather than years, the only thing that American Presidents had known of Yamantau was its presence on the targeteering plans for nuclear strikes on the Russian Homeland, for it appeared on every such plan and it was marked as one of the targets that had to be destroyed. If it survived the initial blows, assets were diverted from other, less important targets until Yamantau ceased to exist.

Now, President Barak Hussein Obama had disembarked from Air Force One and was on his way into the massively protected command post. His limousine sped along the straight road that appeared to run parallel through the snow-covered pine trees to the mountain that towered over them. As the car swept along the road, Obama saw the installations that littered the countryside around them. His host leaned forward. “Yamantau is quartz-containing crystal Mister President. It blocks radio, indeed any electromagnetic, transmission completely. That makes it the safest place in the world when Baldricks and Angels are on the loose. Of course, it means we cannot transmit out either so the transmission stations have to be on the outside. It is the one advantage Cheyenne Mountain has over us here. Mind you, your engineers made a bad mistake with Cheyenne Mountain.”

“What was that, Minister?”

“They built the command complex in the mountain. They should have built it under the mountain. That’s what we did, there are 6,000 feet of quartz-laced granite on top of our national emergency command post. And even now, our engineers feel the urge to dig still deeper.”

The car turned off the main road on to a side-track that seemed little more than a logging trail. It wound through the trees into a fold in the mountain where the snow drifted high against the rock walls that towered high on either side. Ahead of them was an entrance, for all the world looking like that of an old-fashioned mine. Obama didn’t notice how the fold in the ground curved around so that any blastwave travelling down the valley wouldn’t impact directly on the entrance. He did note that, once inside, massive blast doors closed behind him. The S-shaped curves continued inside the mountain, each one designed to mitigate the effects of a near-miss from the most powerful nuclear weapons in the American arsenal. There was only one way to destroy this massive underground fortress and that was to make repeated passes, each dropping a nuclear weapon into the crater from the one before. It was that job that had once been assigned to the B-52s and then to the B-2s.

Obama left his limousine and was escorted to the elevators that led down into the bowels of the mountain. Even here, the paths were not direct, one elevator would take them part of the way, then there would be more S-curves before another took them further down. Eventually, the lifts and corridors ended in the lowest, safest levels of the complex.

“Welcome Mister President. This is your first visit to Yamantau I believe.”

The conference room had a table, a circular one, that occupied most of the floor. There were 15 seats around the table, one for each member of the council. Fourteen were identical, the 15th was subtly larger and more imposing. Obama had already been briefed on that, in this room, the Chairman of the Council was just the first amongst equals. Nations had gained their place in this room in one of two ways. Either they had the military and economic power to demand it or they had simply been in the right place at the right time to earn it. The United States, Russia, China, Great Britain, France, Germany, Australia, Japan, India, Iran, Israel, Brazil, Italy, Thailand and Singapore. The countries that had been in the fight since the beginning and had scored the first kills against humanity’s enemy. There was one great advantage of this council, since it met in secret and its existence was largely unknown, its membership was free of politics. Mostly.

Vladimir Putin spoke from the Chairman’s seat. With the departure of George Bush, he was the most obvious candidate to take over the Chairmanship. The blood shed by the Russian Army along the Phlegethon River saw to that.

“First order of business. The angels. What do we know of them?”

At a side table, Doctor Surlethe stood up. The United States might no longer be Chairman here, but the country still overwhelmingly dominated the research and development effort and, of course, General Petraeus still commanded the Expeditionary Army. That made the American position still dominant.

“We have autopsied the Angels killed in the Anthrax attack on our Nephilim. The Angels have similarities with both us and with the Baldricks, enough to suggest that at one time we had a common ancestor. The Angels are much more humanoid than the Baldricks, they look human, they have human features, they lack the weird and surreal mutations of the Baldricks. They do, however, have the battery of electrocytes that distinguish the Baldricks and can generate bioelectricity in much the same way. There are notable differences between Angel and Baldrick though. The most obvious is that Angels are white, most Baldricks black. Angels have feathered wings like birds, Baldricks scaled leathery wings like bats. Angel blood is white or silver, Baldrick blood can be any one of a dozen colors, except white.”

Doctor Surlethe spoke for about twenty minutes describing the anatomical and other lessons that had been learned to date. Eventually, he got around to the subject of weapons. “It appears that Angels cannot throw lightning bolts, we don’t know why. They have a sound weapon, at first we thought it was a sound beam but we’re rethinking that. However, it is a sound pulse of some sort, in the air battle of Khabarovsk, an Su-35 actually outran it.”

“Do we have any concept of how this weapon works? Is it a threat.” The Indian Prime Minister spoke with a beautifully precise intonation.

“It is yes, precisely because we don’t know how it works. It caught our pilots by surprise, they’d got over-confident flying against the Baldrick Harpies that were virtually defenseless against them. I understand they’re evolving tactics to cope with the situation as we speak. But this brings us to a very important point. Let me show you a film. This comes from some experiments we performed here on Earth. We took one of Belial’s best tridents and copied it, then hooked it to one of our generators. The idea was to generate a super-bolt. Could have all sorts of uses. Watch what happened.”