In the PEOC the President sat staring at the news reports of the Dark Army on one side and the US
Army on the other; no-man's-land being the Potomac River.
“It's depressing, isn't it?” asked a voice as a reptilian appeared behind him.
“Oh, it's you Mourak,” said the President spinning round. “Yes, I need to do something.”
“That's why I am here.”
“Can you surprise them? I mean just appear and destroy them!”
The tall reptile looked at the television then spun around as Bob Laverty knocked and entered. He then turned back and re-focused his green eyes on President Cavendish.
“Not that simple. The soldiers of the Dark Army who are human can be taken by surprise, but the demons can see further into the electro-magnetic spectrum, and can therefore see us coming.”
Cavendish looked at Mourak and then shifted his gaze to Laverty. “So, what can we do gentlemen? The nuclear option is out because of the unknown factor which deactivates them.”
“Nuclear weapons should never be a choice,” said Mourak.
Looking toward Laverty the President said: “What can I do for you Bob?”
“Sir, there are reports coming in from Russia.”
“Okay, what are they?” The President said looking at the alien.
“We're hearing there could be another revolution!”
“What!”
“A neo-Bolshevik party is rousing up ordinary folks across the country.”
“Could be a flash in the pan? Anyway, we have our own problem!”
“Mm Mr President, sir, one reliable source has informed us that the Dark Army agents are behind it. In fact, the main man is directly involved.”
Cavendish stared at Mourak. “I see! So, what we need to do is stop this.”
“Question is how?”
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Chapter Sixty-Three The neo-Bolshevik coach entered the eastern suburbs of Moscow on a bright, but cloudy day. The entourage had slept in the coach on the outskirts of the capital and were now en route to the city centre. Modern office blocks mingled with older 'skyscraper' buildings as they passed under ring roads and headed along a two-lane freeway.
“You know we're being tailed?” Baumann said as he stretched his neck muscles by moving his head from side to side.
“Yes, SVR!” answered Thomson. “Let's give them something to think about.”
As the coach drove over Bolshoy Krasnokholmsky Most it suddenly veered off the road and crashed through the siding and into the Moskva River.
The vehicle sank fast as the SVR car pulled up with flashing hazards. Vehicles behind blasted their horns and then pulled out into the outer lane.
After a while sirens filled the air as police vehicles and ambulances pulled in behind the SVR car.
The police cordoned off the inner lane of the bridge then approached the two SVR agents, who were standing by the damaged siding gazing into the silty water. “What happened?” A Sergeant asked.
“We were following a coach known to be carrying subversives, at a distance, and it crashed through the siding, plunged into the river and sank.”
The policeman scanned the river. “But where?”
“Well through here,” said one of the SVR men pointing to the damage.
“It happened minutes ago... yes?”
“Yes.”
“A coach should float for a while until it fills with water. Anyway, I would expect survivors in the water.”
“I tell you Sergeant the coach crashed through here and plunged into the river,” said an SVR man as more police and paramedics arrived.
“Okay, we must get an under-water team,” said the Sergeant pulling out his radio.
Police scanned the river from along the length of the bridge and from each bank.
Baumann stretched as the bus left the inner ring road and headed for the city centre. “I don't know what you've done, but there's no-one tailing us now!”
“Oh, just a little subterfuge,” said Thomson with a grin.
After a while the bus pulled into the car park of a large building off New Arbat Avenue.
Thomson looked at his watch. “We have plenty of time before the meeting, let's go look at Red Square.”
“Only a look!”
The onion-shaped domes of St Basil's Cathedral pierced the sky at the far end from where the two men entered Red Square. Crowds of tourists strolled in the gathering heat of the Muscovite late morning. Thomson and Baumann strolled past Lenin's Mausoleum and the Spasskaya Tower, then turned back.
“Okay let's leave a calling card,” said Thomson as they headed toward the Metro station.
A sonic shock wave resonated through the square lifting people into the air and then letting them crash onto the cobbled ground. After a moment, with groaning spreading around, the area shook accompanied by a deep growling. Frightened people looked around the square. The clock spire of the Spasskaya Tower fell into the building which supported it. Screams filled the air, and people ran and hobbled in different directions.
Seated in the train heading back to New Arbat Avenue Bauman turned to Thomson. “Why'd you do that back there?”
Thomson turned toward him with blazing red eyes. “Wake them up and speed things along; an injection of a little fear never goes amiss!”
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The police Sergeant opened the passenger door of the SVR vehicle. “Gentlemen, after a thorough search of the river around the bridge, the underwater team have found nothing.”
“What!”
“Now, I can see the damage where you say the bus crashed through, but there's nothing in the water. I don't know on this one!”
His radio burst into life and he answered. After a brief discussion, he put the radio back into his pocket. “I will need to go; there has been an attack on Red Square!”
In the PEOC bunker a guard opened the door and showed Ron Scrimgeour into the President’s office.
“Just to keep you up to date, sir,” said Scrimgeour as he sat on a chair in front of the President’s desk. “There has been an attack... I hesitate to say attack; it's more of an event in Red Square Moscow. No casualties, but a lot of injuries and structural damage. Their secret service, the SVR, has asked us to identify this individual.
Scrimgeour showed the President a photograph of Thomson grinning up at a security camera on his smart phone.
“Why, it's that bastard!”
“Yes sir, Derek Thomson also known as Satan.”
The President pushed his chair back and rose, then walked to the rear of the small room and stared at the ceiling.
“So, he walked into Red Square and did this right under their noses?”
“Well, yes. I think they meant it as a wake-up call. Security was fairly lax.”
“So, what do we draw from this Ron?”
“We know Thomson is behind this swing to bolshevism, and he is trying to speed things up. So, I would say invasion of Russia and her neighbours is imminent!”
The President turned and looked at Scrimgeour. “The Dark Army will leave here and go over to Russia?”
“I wouldn't think so, but I don't know.” Scrimgeour said as he rose to leave.
The President walked round his desk. “There's one thing that bothers me about this Ron and it might be to our advantage.”
“Oh, what's that, sir?”
“Well, it was the Red Army that beat off Hitler's troops in the Second World War!”
“And the weather, and some bad strategies, but yes, I take your point. It's a whole new ball-game now though, sir.”
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Chapter Sixty-Four Matthew rose out of his bed and placed a hand on each hip then stretched his back. He then yawned as he walked toward the kettle.
“Good morning,” said a voice.
Matthew spun round to find David sitting by the table in front of the window of their new room-gained due to an empty motel.
“You're back!”
“Yes.”
“How did it go?”
“Grondin will take Russia, by instigating a revolution.”
“And we've got to stop him... right?”
“Well, it's not that simple.”
Matthew sighed and flicked the kettle on while holding a mug toward David, who nodded.
“He pointed out our common enemy: the reptiles.”
“Great, so we're on the same side as the Dark Army, who are at this moment across the river threatening to wipe out humanity!”
“Well yeah, that's the situation.”
People from all over Russia descended on Moscow by any means possible-some walking. The Kremlin issued orders for the Army to seal off Red Square and the city centre. But when the people approached; the soldiers lowered their guns.
“Come join us comrades,” the people shouted. “Let's claim our country back from these billionaires!”
The military joined in and marched to the Kremlin. At the head of the masses already in Red Square was a grinning Goran Veselov. “Let's take it!” he shouted as he watched the guards and police stand down. “Let's take the Kremlin!”
More people poured into Red Square as Veselov pushed open the gates and gazed at the Kremlin Grand Palace. Helicopters took off, one after another.
“They're running comrades!”
Like a mass of ants, the people scurried through the Kremlin grounds. Thomson's thugs smashed in the palace doors and the mob spewed in. Thomson looked around the splendour of the interior.
“Yes, this will do nicely for my base,” he said to himself. He then ordered his thugs to round up the people and throw them out.
Thomas Baumann flew slowly through the Russian night. At a height of twenty metres he passed over Moscow. A pale cone of light emanated from him when he passed over cemeteries.
As he moved toward the capital a mass of dark bodies followed. Ordinary people going about their business in the early hours ran and hid from the dark menace. Others drew their curtains as the demons passed.
He passed over the districts of Moscow gathering not only dark recruits, but demonic energy. He entered Manege Square as the city was coming to life. Then, followed by his army, Baumann entered the State Duma building-the Russian Parliament.
On the podium Baumann gazed around the Lower Assembly Hall with blazing red eyes. “Now we run the country!” he shouted.
Shrieks of laughter erupted from the dark hordes, some sitting in the curved delegates area, others standing in the aisles. All were dressed in dusty, disintegrating burial clothes; their faces were of sallow skin stretched over bone. Dead bodies possessed by evil spirits.
“There is someone who wants to meet you,” growled Baumann holding his arms up and gazing toward the ceiling.
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Thomson descended onto the podium beside Baumann to ecstatic cheering from the now all standing crowd.
Dressed in his familiar long black coat with shaven-head he held up his arms. His burning crimson eyes cut through the air to every entity, and the demonic energy rose to dizzying levels.
“Okay my friends,” said Thomson after the cheering died down. “I have summoned you into this dimension on this jewelled planet to help us defeat the Sin Gatherer and his cohorts.” He strode to the front of the podium while raising his arms up and down in front of his body raising the noise from the crowd. “Oh yeah, and some aliens,” he quipped returning to the microphone. He then turned and winked to Baumann, who laughed.
“Low key as ever!” Baumann shouted.
Thomson then flew over the mob and crashed through the doors into the vestibule.
Moscow had become a ghost city as citizens were warned on the television to stay indoors. Many left and stayed with friends and relatives in other parts of the country.
Russia was under martial control as the General Assembly reconvened in St Petersburg. Prime Minister Pyotr Teplov was for some nuclear action, but President Mikhail Petrukhin advised that a meeting between all sides would be better.
The armoured convoy drove through Red Square and pulled up in front of Lenin's Mausoleum.
Then, after a moment, the three vehicles continued through the gates onto the Kremlin grounds.
Thomson and Baumann were standing at the front of the Grand Palace and watched the convoy drive along the road and pull up. Dark shadows occupied many of the windows.
Special forces soldiers in black gear carrying semi-automatic weapons jumped out of the first car and immediately froze.
“Please come out. There is no need for this. I told you over the phone that nothing will happen to you. You have my word on this,” said Thomson.
“Can we trust the word of someone who has invaded our country,” said a voice from the second vehicle.
“Well, you'll just have to trust me now-won't you? If you want to talk.”
“We're not going anywhere until you free our guards,” said Teplov.
Thomson looked at the statuesque soldiers and pursed his lips. “Oh, well!”
The opulent St Andrew Hall was brightly lit as the two Russian leaders filed in surrounded by their guards. Thomson and Baumann followed.
Shadows peeked into the room as the four sat at a large circular table.
“What about the others?” Petrukhin asked looking around.
“Oh, we're here,” said Mourak appearing with his assistant behind the two Russians making the guards react and point their weapons at the two reptiles.
“Stand down,” ordered Teplov
Thomson shook his head and laughed. “Okay, now we're all here, what is it you want to say?”
President Petrukhin cleared his throat. “Some compromise will have to be found. This is our country and we will die before giving it up.”
“That can be arranged,” quipped Baumann.
Teplov jumped out of his seat. “Now look here!”
“Yeah, what?” Baumann asked rising out of his seat.
“We still have control of the Red Army...”
“Gentlemen... please, sit down,” growled Thomson with arms held out and flickering red eyes.
The situation is... we are about to take America, and the compromise for you is you can stand down and join us on this new Eden we are creating.”
“New Eden; considering who you are perhaps, my friend, New Hell would be a better name,”
said Petrukhin.
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Thomson cackled and then swung his head round to look at Mourak out of the sides of his eyes.
“And what of our reptilian friends?”
“You humans and sub-humans,” hissed Mourak looking at Thomson, “can play all the games you wish. We rule the Earth, and will continue to rule from the shadows!”
“That sounds like fighting talk where I come from,” said Baumann looking at Thomson.
“Yeah well, you'll really like this!” Mourak yelled as he pulled a weapon and held it at Baumann's head.
The Russian guards aimed their guns at the Reptiles, and shadows flowed into the room. Uproar gripped the room, and the Reptiles disappeared. The guards pulled the two diplomats out into the vestibule then out of the building. Then, placing them into the second car, the soldiers entered the first and third, and the convoy left the Kremlin grounds.
The sun rose over Washington DC and announced another fine autumn day. The seething mass that was the Dark Army stretched into the distance and roared at their leaders.
“Let's wipe these fuckers out!” Growled an undead.
“We must wait, the Lord has told us to wait,” said Ritchie.
“Fuck him, let's attack,” the demon roared back.
The demon grasped its neck with both hands and seemed to gasp for breath, which was strange because the body was dead. He rose into the air and flipped over 180 degrees. A hole opened in the ground next to where he hung, and Thomson rose out.
“Now, what were you wanting to do to me?” He asked in a hissing groan.
The undead shook and then shattered into a million pieces with a yell.
“Anyone else feeling they want to go against my orders!” Thomson shouted with blazing eyes.
The army remained silent.
Thomson strode over to the banks of the Potomac and surveyed the city. “Right, the Dark Army has swollen past all comprehension, let's do it,” he said turning to Ritchie. “Let's attack them!”
Ritchie nodded to the officers standing behind them, who let out piercing screams, and a wave of alertness spread through the dark mass into the distance.
"Something's happening... did you hear that?” Matthew asked as he rose from a seat by the table.
“Mm,” said David. “They're going to attack.”
Matthew spun around toward David, who was lying on his bed reading a magazine. “What!”
“Most of them are demons... they won't hang around forever. I'm surprised Grondin and his side-kicks have held them back this long.”
“Shouldn't we do something?”
“Mm, wait till I've finished this article on growing begonias.”
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