“Coen,” he said carelessly, not looking away from the screen. “Get men up to the platform with shoulder-mounted missiles and blow them out of my sky.”
“Uh, Father?” Coen replied.
“Have a diving unit prepped as well. I want bodies pulled and identified. See who we’re dealing with.”
“Um, I’m sorry, Father, but we don’t have any missiles. In fact, we don’t even have any grenades. It’s a haven directive from Councilman Vinnick. None of the underwater havens are allowed any explosives, not even a self-destruct.”
That would make sense, though probably inopportune at this time. In hindsight, maybe sabotaging the platform was short-sighted.
Enzo frowned and turned to the Coen. “Nothing?”
“Not even C 4.”
“Well then,” Enzo said, gesturing to Azumi and walking briskly toward the armory. “We do it the old-fashion way. Sound the alarm. I want all personnel armed; my people first.”
Coen hurried after him. “I’ll send security up to the platform to keep them at bay.”
Enzo turned on him. “What do you think will happen when you send forces up to the platform with no cover, armed with only small arms, with the wind howling, in total darkness? They won’t see the enemy; they won’t hear the enemy. They’ll be cut down like target practice. So no, you will not give that order. In fact, you will not relay any order unless I expressly give it. Do you understand?”
Coen bowed in submission. “Yes, Father. Apologies.”
“Good. Have your security forces ready to move on my command. Lock down the command center with a kill switch on my order.” Enzo turned and walked toward his quarters.
With the speed of the three incoming bogies, he had less than twenty minutes to organize what was left of his people. Who knew how many of the enemy was coming? Who knew which enemy it was? It didn’t matter. Neither the Prophus nor the IXTF, nor the Canadian military, for that matter – he chuckled at the thought – had Adonis Vessels. It was the Goths trying to match swords with the Roman legions all over again. Enzo was looking forward to this.
This is a distraction we can do without. Do not underestimate our enemies. They have defeated you before.
“I do not register temporary setbacks as defeats. I can count on one hand how many of these setbacks I’ve had, anyway.”
All it takes is one more to unravel you.
“It will not be today, my Guardian.”
Amanda and Azumi fell in beside him as the alert broadcasted across the entire base. “Amanda, lock down our network and data integrity. Move all important non-combatant vessels to the escape pods for holding.” The entire base became a hive of activity as Enzo’s people, the security unit, and the civilians within the haven readied defensive positions.
“And the non-blessed and civilians?”
“Expendable, save for ranking and important personnel. Total strength count?”
“Five Adonis, twelve standard combat vessels and seventy-seven agents. Haven defense force of eight-three. Ninety-one civilians. The six emergency pods can only fit one hundred forty-four, Father.”
“Make a list. Shoot anyone else who tries to board.”
Enzo felt the tingle of the thrill of battle as he mentally organized the resources he had at his fingertips. For him, it was all about control. He was the chess player, and all his forces were pieces executing his will. He didn’t just want to defend the haven, he wanted to obliterate the enemy in the most emphatic way possible, with the highest attrition, and he wanted to do it up-close and personal. Optimally, Enzo should be coordinating all the attacks at the command center. Unfortunately, that room was right next to the spine, and would be one of the first places the enemy attacked. Vinnick’s fool architect did not design the haven to repel enemy attacks, instead relying on their radar cloaks to just keep it hidden.
Enzo quickly ran through several scenarios. “Coen will lead the security forces and expendable civilians at the insertion point. He will then pull back and hold the command center for as long as he can. Divide the remaining security personnel into units led by vessels. Palos will hold the communication center and Jacob the catalyst stores. Akelatis on life support and Matthew to secure the escape pod routes. Amanda, coordinate the evacuation. Everything goes through me. Have them prepared to move on my mark. Azumi, take one unit and capture the platform. I want their extraction point negated after the initial insertion point is lost. We lure them deeper into the base and then trap them.”
“Your will, Father,” she nodded.
This tactic is a risk. The safest course of action would be to block the point of entry.
“That gives them a chance to escape. It will be much easier to cover up if there are no survivors.”
Amanda and Azumi got to work relaying the orders while Enzo returned to his quarters. He took his time strapping on his customized armor and loading his weapon magazines, rifle, pistol, and assorted knives. For him, preparing for battle was a divine ritual, a blessing and sacrifice to the Holy Ones. He intended to show his devotion by expunging as many of the enemy as he could. Finally, he strapped on the Honjo Masamune sword.
When he was ready, Enzo stood up and admired his reflection in the mirror. Before him stood an emperor and prophet, ready to pass final judgment on the unholy Earth and usher forth a new paradise. His standing would be unmatched by any vessel, equal to that of the Gods, and he would stand for eternity alongside the Holy Ones once they ruled over Earth. But first, he had enemies to slaughter.
He was notified a few minutes later by Coen, running operations from the command center, that the enemy had breached the entrance. In the distance, Enzo could hear the sounds of battle begin to bounce along the metal walls of the haven. He checked himself in the mirror one more time. “Praise to the Holy Ones.”
It was time for him to wield his will and strength against the enemy.
“Adonis.” Harlen, one of the vessels, approached him, bowing. “The warehouse module is secured. Two exits, one each through the front and rear, each covered by a unit. Third unit holding behind cover right next to the stockpile.”
Jacob nodded and continued to watch the monitor as the evil Prophus attacked the loyalty haven through the Four Towers. First, several large canisters rolled out from the three main stairwells, then plumes of smoke exploded, rolling through the hallway like an encroaching storm. Then, the silent screen flashed sparks of lightning bursting within clouds of heavy smoke.
He switched the views, cycling to a camera behind the makeshift barricade that Coen had ordered set up. The fool had tried to encircle the entire four-column entranceway instead of fortifying one side. Now within the heavy smoke, his lines were too thin, and the odds of hitting their own people were as high as hitting the enemy. Jacob continued to watch as several large rectangular riot shields emerged from the thick clouds, moving forward together like Roman legion shields of old.
Hela’s experience in the military was always more on the supply side. The new commander, Coen, seems to have little experience in handling such situations.
“I should be there at the front, not back here on guard duty.” Jacob scowled at the pallets of catalyst containers. It would probably be hours before the Prophus reached these warehouses in the far western end of the haven, assuming they even got this far, which he doubted. And while he realized the importance of these stockpiles, he felt his presence here was beneath his standing as an Adonis.