POV Bill
"Is everything looking good on your side?" I ask John.
"Yeah, all systems are showing green, and the target seems unaware of the trap," John replies.
We were monitoring the target from one of the few remaining orbital satellites. However, while connecting, I discovered something odd.
"Hey, have you noticed the lack of responses from the satellites?" I ask.
"Huh? Let me see," John replies before trying to connect.
"Huh, you're right, I can't connect with any of the other satellites. That shouldn't be the case; they were working a few weeks ago when we ran diagnostics," John says aloud.
"Hmm, but it says here that diagnostics haven't been done since September 30th," I reply.
"What?! That's crazy. Who was assigned to check them?" John asks.
I check the list.
"It says... Gerald, but that doesn't make any sense. He has been reassigned to intel for at least half a year. Why would he be on the list?" I ask.
Slap
"God dang it! The schedule is made every March. But it rarely gets any changes. He must have been added to the list, but he was never removed from it. Ah, geez, Colonel Winters is going to be furious," John says while ruffling his hair.
"It's fine, we can let them know after this mission, at least THOR is working properly, and Oracle VI is allowing us to see the target," I reply.
"Sigh. I guess you're right. Speaking of this mission, do you think this will work?" John asks.
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"Well, do you think we can kill the target. I heard he is pretty weird," John says.
"I think it's very likely this will succeed. The Grand Admiral wouldn't give the green light unless she was absolutely certain that this could succeed," I reply.
"Yes, I know that, but do you think it will work?" John asks again.
"Hmm, well, even if he escapes THOR, he has to then survive both Alpha and Bravo Squads. Not to mention that... man..." I reply with some distaste in my tone.
"Ah, yeah, the Special Agent. Why do you seem to dislike him? He is loyal to the Alliance and seems far more adjusted than his father," John asks.
"Sigh. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate him and I'm not trying to sound like one of those Fascist fools in the Enclave, but I have to object to his creation. He was not born; he was created. His existence goes against the natural order. The research was also conducted in a very unethical manner. If we truly want to restore the world, then how can we lower ourselves to the same level as those we split from?" I ask.
"Sigh. I get where you're coming from, I do. But you have to admit he is highly effective, and we didn't conduct the research. So why not use the research to increase the odds of victory? I don't like it either, but some small sacrifices need to be made. If his existence can save the lives of Alliance members and even those innocents out there, then can we really say it is wrong?" John replies.
"I suppose... It's just not something I am comfortable with. I left the Enclave because I thought the Enclave was wrong in its approach. I just don't want us going down that same path," I reply.
"We won't. Now let's move away from this topic and back to what I asked originally," John says.
"Fine. I think the odds of success are 8 to 2. 8 in our favor," I reply.
"Really? You think the target can survive this?" John asks.
"Maybe. From what I read about him, he has all sorts of strange abilities, and I always believed nothing is for certain," I reply.
"Room Ten hut!" we hear and scramble to stand at attention.
"At Ease, everyone. Now is everything ready, Colonel Winter?" the Grand Admiral asks while taking a seat in the command chair.
"Yes, ma'am. Everything seems to be ready," Winter replies.
"Good, and Lieutenant Nye, I agree that nothing is a certainty, but I believe that the odds are closer to 7 to 3. If there is anything I know about beings like Rio, it is that they can often beat the odds and produce... miracles," the Grand Admiral goes on.
"No battle plan can anticipate all contingencies. There are always unexpected factors, including those stemming from the opponent's initiative. A battle must thus becomes a balance between plan and improvisation, between error and correction. It is a narrow line. But it is a line one's opponent must also walk. For all the balance of experience and cleverness, it is often the warrior who acts quickest who will prevail," the Grand Admiral ends.
"Yes, ma'am," I say while trying to avoid eye contact.
"Good, now let us proceed," the Grand Admiral says.
A few minutes later...
"Target has reached the objective zone," says one of the technicians.
"You may fire when ready," says the Grand Admiral.
"Begin Shell Dispersal," says the command officer.
I see the visual of the outer casing of THOR being ejected, revealing its payload of 36 Tungsten Kinetic Impact Rods.
"Commence Primary Ignition," says the command officer.
Next, the visual shows several lights indicating the release of the safety measures,
"Confirmed rods are all accounted for and ready for firing," I say to the command officer.
The command officer looks at the Grand Admiral, who gives him a nod.
"Fire!" orders the command officer.
The visual feed shows a short burst of rocket propellant as one rod at a time is released. The rods were around 30 feet long with several fins to increase accuracy. John starts to prepare for any last-minute calculation that will need to be made in case the target tries to flee.
"All systems nominal, calculated time to impact 90 seconds," John said.
A map shows the anticipated impact zones and the estimated damage. This entire plan was only chosen as there was a low-orbit satellite that was going to deorbit soon, and it was carrying this experimental weapons platform. I thought this idea was a bit wasteful, but if it completed the task while providing valuable data, then I wasn't going to complain.
"Impact in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... Impact!" yells John.
The visual feed shows a bright light. Once the light fades, we see massive clouds of dirt, and we wait for the dust to settle. Once it does, we start scanning for any signs of life.
"No signs of the target," I state.
"Move the visual feed over to his companions," Winter orders.
We do so, but the picture is not that clear.
"Enhance," Winter orders.
"This is all the resolution we have. This satellite wasn't designed to spy on individuals; it was meant to find bases or, at most, a missile silo," I state.
"Then switch to another satellite," Winter orders.
We explain why we can't do that, and before he can start to chew us out, the Grand Admiral steps in.
"There is no need to blame them for something that wasn't their fault. Those schedules are designed by higher leadership. It has revealed to us a gap in our procedures," the Grand Admiral states.
"Yes, ma'am, but surely..." Winter starts but is interrupted.
"Do you know the difference between an error and a mistake?" the Grand Admiral asks.
"I am not sure, ma'am," Winter replies.
"Anyone can make an error. But that error doesn't become a mistake until you refuse to correct it," the Grand Admiral answers.
"Yes, ma'am," Winter says.
"Now, I believe that we cannot say for certain that we have eliminated the enemy, so we shall start with Plan B and continue down the list until we succeed," the Grand Admiral states.
The plans in question were as follows: Plan A was the orbital strike from the THOR Orbital Weapons Platform. Plan B was a second strike involving over 2000 missiles from several hidden missile pods. Plan C was the launch of nearly our entire stockpile of Chemical Weapons to bathe the entire area in toxic substances. Plan D was to send in Alpha and Bravo Squads to clean up any survivors. Plan E was to send in Agent 111 if Alpha and Bravo Squads couldn't handle it. Plan F was to recall everyone and use the portable relay dishes to activate a sonic weapon that would destroy the dishes and possibly eliminate the enemy. The last plan was Plan G, and only Colonel Winter and the Grand Admiral were aware of what it entailed.
'Whatever it is, it must be big as they won't tell anyone what it entails.'
The plans had nothing more to do with me, as I was now tasked with compiling all the information on THOR to see if it was a feasible weapon plan. The destructive power was impressive, but if it wasn't cost-effective, then it was ultimately a moot point.
'Though I honestly would be surprised if the target could actually survive that, and even further, the other plans. I truly underestimated the power of THOR. I mean, I know the science behind it, but still, that was some incredible impact forces.'
THOR stood for Tactical High-Orbit Rodstriker. Despite the name, it was used in Low Orbit for increased accuracy, but it was designed in a way that either way would work. The only difference was power. The longer the distance, the higher the impact force. We just didn't have the resources to move it back into high orbit. While I was making the calculations, I saw something out of the corner of my eye and turned to see what it was.
I was so surprised, I said aloud. "Huh?"
On the satellite image was a blurry but clear image of the target. They had somehow survived the orbital strike.
'How in the heck did he manage that?'
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Author's Note:
I made many references in this chapter to all sorts of things, and I wonder how many of them will be found. The next chapter will be focused on Rio's perspective. Until next time, Ciao.