Or, a part of Trevor suggested, maybe Evan is really reaching out here. "Sir, this way," Roos directed Trevor to the exit. "You sure you're okay, Ray? You don't look so good." "Fine, sir."
Tyr went first, Trevor and Roos followed with four bodyguards not far behind. Evan approached Trevor wearing a big grin; so big and so forced it could only be phony.
Trevor glanced to his left and noticed the beautiful but simple design of the Godfrey mansion. Not quite as flashy as Trevor would expect from a man so concerned about image. He then looked to his right and surveyed the open expanse of well-kept lawn surrounded by forest.
"Trevor, I'm very glad you could come."
The two met half way.
"How could I refuse such an invitation. Besides, Dante Jones twisted my arm. He seems to think that I have misjudged you all these years."
Evan's phony grin changed, a little. His teeth flashed; his eyes narrowed.
"Yes, Trevor. You have misjudged me."
A low, electric humming that Trevor recognized as the quiet engines of an Eagle transport drifted to his ears, pulling his attention to the rear of the yard. From there flew in-low and fast-one of The Empire's white Eagle transports.
The sudden appearance of the shuttle startled Trevor for only an instant. He had anticipated a political trap and was only surprised that no cameras played to capture whatever grand embarrassment the President of the Senate planned for The Emperor.
The ship landed and the passenger compartment opened. Out poured men in white and red body armor with full face plates-no, not men. Aliens. Centurians or, as they had been nicknamed during the battle of Wilkes-Barre, "Redcoats," the original owners of the Eagle shuttles.
In a flash, Trevor understood that an extraterrestrial assault team landed in Evan's back yard. It took Tyr even less time to smell the threat.
The dog charged as the attackers fired their first volley. While those energy blasts missed the K9, the shots did hit the ground next to The Emperor and the Senator. The explosive impact sent both of the men first into the air, then onto the beautiful green grass. Trevor's head hit hard, but he remained conscious.
He heard small arms fire as well as the crackle of energy bursts. Trevor felt a hand haul him up, expecting it to be Roos, but it was a member of the estate detachment. The man pulled an Mp5 machine gun and returned fire while struggling to drag Trevor to cover.
Trevor should have come to his senses and acted, but the sight he saw in Evan Godfrey's yard confused him. He saw alien plasma bursts firing into the air and into the ground; not really hitting anything. He saw Tyr rip into the arm of one of the Redcoats, but the alien reacted sluggishly, as if not feeling the pain. He spotted Godfrey cowering on the ground, arms over his head. He saw some of his escort firing at the attackers, knocking at least two of the dozen aliens to the ground with solid hits. He saw other I.S. agents firing at… firing at other I.S. agents.
"To the chopper!" Shouted the guard holding Trevor's arm.
Something streaked by Trevor. Something hot. Then he felt a warm liquid splash on his cheek. That liquid came from the man dragging him toward the helicopter; blood from his head. The hot thing had been a bullet fired by another I.S. agent, one from the estate, a short man with gray hair who held his pistol steady in both hands for the best possible aim.
Tyr bolted at that gray-haired agent, clamping down on the short man's arm. With his free hand, the agent blasted the Norwegian Elkhound, exploding the skull of Trevor's friend.
Another energy bolt hit at Trevor's feet, sending him rolling. He looked up and saw that while almost the entire security detail had died, the majority of the Redcoat aliens remained alive but stood still with their rifles held aloft but not firing, not advancing. Trevor pulled himself to a sitting position and called, "Evan! Are you okay?" Ray Roos cast a shadow over Trevor and pointed a gun at his boss saying, "He's fine, but you're dead." The gun fired. Trevor felt a hot sensation in his chest and his limbs went numb… — Chaos.
"Confirm that message. Confirm it, NOW!"
General Jon Brewer stood on the bridge of the Excalibur alongside the command station where Woody "Bear" Ross operated as the 'brain' of the ship.
"Message confirmed from D.C. Station," Ross replied in his booming voice. "All friendly air traffic is grounded. The contact is not responding to hails."
Jon yelled the obvious order, "Intercept it, goddamn it! Intercept!"
The Excalibur's main engines increased to maximum thrust, propelling the massive vessel over the Virginia landscape at speeds approaching one-hundred and twenty miles per hour.
Jon, staring out the bridge windows at blue skies, growled at his unseen quarry, "Where are you going? Are you trying to get back to Mexico? Is that it?"
Nothing yet appeared on the Excalibur's scopes, but if I.S. spotters were correct then the getaway transport for the alien assassination team would soon be in range. As Jon waited for intercept, he played over the events of the last sixty minutes, according to reports from Internal Security, the media, and the Department of Medical and Health Services.
At 1:15 p.m. on May 22, an alien-operated Eagle transport-most likely a Centurian ship painted to resemble The Empire's versions-landed without warning at the estate of Senator Evan Godfrey. Within thirty seconds the bulk of the I.S. security detail had been killed. Godfrey and Stone had both been hit, although Godfrey's wounds appeared minor.
Less than two minutes later, the alien assault force flew off, chased away by the encroachment of perimeter guards and military units.
At 1:23 p.m. an I.S. transport helicopter departed with the injured, including Emperor Trevor Stone, to the Medical and Health Services facility in Washington D.C., where none other than Dr. Maple himself-a member of the Imperial Council-began emergency surgery on Trevor for a direct hit by an alien energy rifle.
At 1:45 p.m., Dante Jones, who was at D.C.'s I.S. complex and Tambourine Central Station, ordered the grounding of all Eagles in an attempt to locate the enemy craft that still had not appeared on any of the regional radar stations, or the Excalibur's own scopes.
At 2:12 the Internal Security station in D.C. reported contact with a suspect vessel matching the profile of an Eagle. Said ship did not respond to hails. Ross shouted, "Got it! Radar contact coming from the northeast. Fifty miles and closing." "Why didn't we see the damn thing sooner?" "Maybe he was hiding in the mountains," Ross answered.
Brewer knew they might only have once chance. From what he remembered, the Redcoat shuttles could run at speeds close to one-hundred and fifty miles per hour, meaning the aliens could outrun the Excalibur, and the ship's fighter compliment was stowed below decks.
Jon wanted to know how the aliens managed to fly from Mexico to D.C. without detection. Could the Centurians have a hidden base inside the boundaries of The Empire?
For the next several minutes Brewer watched monitors and listened to Bear direct navigation to intercept. The radar blip closed to within missile range and while Jon's naked eyes could not see the enemy, Bear's telescopic lenses provided confirmation.
"That's it. We got em'. Do you want me to fire?"
Jon replied, "Hold for a moment. Contact them. Tell them they will be destroyed unless they respond."
Woody Ross relayed that order several times over the course of three minutes with no answer. The radar blip crossed the Excalibur's path heading from northeast to southwest at a high rate of speed.
"They ain't answering," the Brain stated the obvious. "They're going to outrun us if we don't do something about it. Should I get the crews to their fighters?"
"No. We don't need the jets. Fire."
One, two, three, then four radar-locked missiles streaked away from launchers. Jon turned from the open windows of the bridge and walked to the tracking station.