Hell Fighters From Earth Book 2 Read online

  The Legion of the Damned

  Hell Fighters Series, Book 2

  William C. Seigler

  Published by Waldorf Publishing

  2140 Hall Johnson Road

  #102-345

  Grapevine, Texas 76051

  www.WaldorfPublishing.com

  The Legion of the Damned

  Hell Fighters Series, Book 2

  ISBN: 978-1-68419-250-2

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2016957097

  Copyright © 2017

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever without express written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Please refer all pertinent questions to the publisher. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine or newspaper without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Dedication

  To Robert DeLoach, my old friend for many years who has become a pretty good proofreader.

  Chapter 1 – Revenge of the Old Guard

  The simulations had gone well, now Commander David Johansson was ready and so was his squadron. He sat in the private quarters of his commanding officer, Admiral Detrick von Karlstad.

  “In a way, the down-earthers helped our faction, with the success of the joint mission to rescue the Greys. They proved the utility of a small craft when heavily armed with ultrafast missiles,” the Admiral began.

  “Now with the attack fighter we’ve perfected, we shall win this war on our terms,” he gloated.

  The new Me 147 was a triumph of engineering. A small, two-man attack-fighter shaped like an isosceles triangle in plan view, rounded at the edges, it was only slightly larger than some of the missiles in use when the war started. In profile, it was rounded fore and aft, almost bulbous on top, and only slightly rounded abeam on the bottom. It was invisible to radar, had almost no IR signature, or any other leakage across a wide spectrum.

  “You will like the improved version of the missiles used in the rescue. Each rocket-propelled round is smart. Once fired, it will track a target to the gates of torment then blow it apart with a shaped charge to be followed by spent uranium,” he continued.

  “Yes, this double-barreled, one-two punch will bore through the best the enemy has to offer and then some. There are other rounds that can be used and more in the works,” added Johansson.

  “The real secret of the Me 147 is that it allows the gunner to run an array of weapons and has its own artificial intelligence to help the pilot in a fight,” offered the Admiral.

  “Yes sir, but I think my lads will want to do it all themselves. They are the best, the brightest, and the most aggressive in the fleet.”

  “Well, be sure to use the men and the fighters to the fullest,” quipped von Karlstad.

  It could be preprogrammed by the pilot or use any one of the numerous programs prepackaged for it. Artificial intelligence could modify either as the battle progressed.

  “As you know, the basic idea had been envisioned after the down-earthers got too big for their britches,” von Karlstad continued. “We were quite content to let them have the surface of the Earth, but when they began shooting extremely high-velocity projectiles at us when we were in low orbit, something had to be done.”

  “True, the down-earthers may be dirty and stupid, but one has to admit the buggers are clever. They just love to kill, and we can show them killing, if that’s what it will take to keep them in check,” said Johansson reassuringly.

  “However, the war with the Reptilians forced a change in focus. Our faction had pushed the joint mission. After the Reptilians got their hands on the star jump drive, we fell out of favor. When we were forced from power, we took the Me 147 with us and continued our work in secret.

  “Now that this so-called Star Legion has proven to be of dubious value, or so we will make it seem in Parliament. At least it wasn’t an unqualified success,” von Karlstad quickly added. “We will paint it with the stench of failure. All we need now is for your squadron to prove that we can fight the war on our terms.”

  “We will destroy them in space. Then this new fighter will enter the atmosphere and wipe out every Reptilian that sticks its ugly head above ground,” bragged Johansson.

  “Then we will graciously hand the world back over to the Greys tied with a bow. When we return to power, we will tie the Legion around the necks of our enemies like an albatross.” That will be sweet, thought the Admiral. That will be very sweet indeed.

  “Commander, we will drop back into normal space in thirty minutes. Make me proud.”

  “I intend to sir.” Commander Johansson stood, came to rigid attention, and formally saluted his old friend and professor from the Academy. He then about-faced and marched out of the room.

  “Yes you will make me proud, and unknowingly bring us one step closer to our goal. Thank you old friend,” von Karlstad said aloud after the door closed.

  * * * *

  As Commander Johansson entered the briefing room, his officers came to attention.

  “At ease; be seated gentlemen.”

  He surveyed his men, the finest his people had to offer. They had trained weeks for this mission. Every man knew what was expected of him and how to do it.

  “I have just left the Admiral. He wanted me to convey how proud and pleased he is with our progress and preparations. I would like to add my own congratulations.”

  The men visibly straightened in their seats.

  “You know what to do. Get to your ships.”

  They were on their feet and out the door in an instant, full of fight and vinegar convinced of their superiority.

  * * * *

  “The Legion seems to have turned the tide. How did this happen?” demanded Schiller.

  “The Reptilians are livid; this was not expected. Now they believe we can no longer be trusted,” said Chu. These men, Schiller’s faction, wanted to get back into power, but this latest development had put their plans in turmoil.

  Chu had been in line for party vice chairman when the joint mission failed, and the Schiller-von Karlstad faction fell from favor.

  “Where did the nuke come from?” asked Schiller shaking his head as he stared into space.

  “We don’t know,” said Chu. “It went by way of Admiral La Force’s group at Intel, the one with Denver Smith, and the other down-earthers.”

  “We must solve this riddle and stop all possible contact between the Greys and the Legion.”

  “Yes,” said Chu. Then he added, “And more than that, we must get rid of the Legion and its auxiliary.”

  Schiller brightened. “The first steps are taking place even as we speak. Admiral von Karlstad’s team is about to take back a world without help from this so-called Legion.

  “Then we will assassinate the Prime Minister using one of those primitive rifles the Legion is so proud of,” spat Schiller. “This will lay the blame on the Legion. The populace will demand that something be done about them. Have you found a man to do the job?”

  “I believe so,” answered Chu. “I have the perfect man for this sort of work.”

  “Afterward, what are your plans to see to it that he never tells what he knows?” asked Schiller.

  “I have been feeding him a small amount of a dr
ug my people produced. It can cause death in a large dose or addiction in small doses. After he leaves our service, he will not be consuming the drug anymore. This will lead to withdrawal and death.”

  “It won’t take him too long to die, will it? We don’t want him to have time to suspect treachery and inform on us,” cautioned Schiller.

  “Don’t worry; he will be in no condition to tell anybody anything. He will be dead in hours.”

  “Good, good, the fewer people who know about our operation, the better,” added Schiller. “Brandy?”

  “Please.”

  Schiller poured two brandies.

  “What have you come up with in order to deal with the Legion?” Chu inquired.

  “I’m still working on that.”

  “You’ll come up with something. Now, what about your contacts on the other side? Can they be trusted?” asked Chu.

  “Not really. You’ve never met one have you?”

  “No, all I’ve seen are pictures: disgusting creatures,” said Chu.

  “I had a face to face meeting with one of their leaders, most distasteful thing I’ve ever done in my life. But we have to deal with them if we are to get what we want,” smiled Schiller.

  “Afterwards?”

  “Afterwards, we make sure they never again become a threat to us,” responded Schiller, with a sly grin spreading slowly across his bulbous face. “How’s the brandy?”

  “Excellent, it’s even better because it’s forbidden.”

  “Yes, it is. My family has secretly maintained contact with the down-earthers for things we require.”

  Chu’s eyelids went up. “They don’t know about us, do they?”

  “Oh, goodness no; they are paid, and certain hard-to-get goods are delivered. That is all they know.”

  “Certain goods, like brandy?”

  “Yes,” replied Schiller, savoring his drink.

  Schiller had become old and corpulent, and the Moon’s low gravity suited him. He and Chu were fellow travelers, intent on success. Contraband brandy suited each just fine.

  * * * *

  Johansson had no trouble with the disorientating nausea associated with dropping back into normal space. The disembodied voice in this helmet said, “You are cleared for launch, Commander.”

  “Understood,” he replied. He switched over to the squadron freq. “Okay men, let’s go.” With that, he lifted his spacecraft up and shot out of the bay, then entered a holding pattern until his squadron formed up. They made a diamond of diamonds, sixteen of the most advanced spacecraft the human mind had ever conceived, armed with the most lethal weapons ever built.

  The Admiral had persuaded the Grey transport jump ship Command Council to drop into normal space close to the target planet. This would give the Reptilians no time to respond. There were three heavy cruisers in orbit around the planet. Each was always in a position to help defend the surface in case of attack.

  Each diamond of four spacecraft would attack a different cruiser while the fourth, led by Commander Johansson would attack the surface with low yield, nuclear devices. These would detonate less than one kilometer above the surface of each installation.

  The Reptilians would be annihilated without making the planet uninhabitable. Don’t want to spoil it for our little gray friends, thought Johansson, as he led his spacecraft flight into the atmosphere.

  They slowed enough to be caught by the planet’s gravity, then entered the atmosphere with the bottom of the spacecraft pointed in the direction of travel. Once through the entry phase, each rolled forward and arced toward intended targets.

  “Team Two, break,” commanded Johansson.

  He had the point. He and the spacecraft to his left rear held steady on course while the right and rear points of the diamond broke hard a starboard. Based on data from Intel, each team had targets to destroy.

  As Johansson came up on his, he rolled inverted and released the first of two nuclear bombs. These would fall guided by a camera and preprogrammed instructions.

  “One away,” called Johansson, as he rolled back. He heard a similar report from Team Two’s leader.

  Johansson expertly moved the side stick left and sped toward the second target before the first nuke reached its detonation point. As he reached the next target, his gunner came online, “Sir, I’ve got incoming.”

  The Lieutenant JG weapons officer was competent enough, and Johansson thought he would make a fine officer. He secretly envied the young man. What a place to begin your career, in this premiere attack-fighter unit. If this young officer played his cards right, he would make admiral in record time.

  The enemy had dispatched aircraft to intercept the squadron. Johansson smiled. “We have time to destroy the second target; then we will deal with the incoming.”

  * * * *

  Out in orbit, Lieutenant Commander Lowman’s diamond was coming into range of its target. “Break,” he commanded. As he did so, he and his wingman rolled left as the other two fighters rolled right. They would attack from two angles.

  Suddenly, flashes appeared from the flanks of the battle cruiser. “Okay boys, they’re launching,” was all he said.

  From the bulbous sides of the craft, the protective panels rolled into the craft exposing the missile launchers. He began to turn and roll, climb and dive, always making the approaching missiles work harder. The incoming missiles were in range, and his gunner called, “I’ve got lock.”

  “Fire.”

  Missiles lanced out and stuck the incoming fire, blasting it into pieces. The computer would calculate where these fragments would go and when they might become a danger to the attackers. The fighters rolled and changed course to miss the expanding cloud.

  Then when there was nothing to stop them, each wingman came alongside and at five kilometers, opened up on the huge battle cruiser. Every missile found its target, wherever the gunner was looking when it launched, became the spot where the missile detonated.

  There were signs of outgassing all along the body of the cruiser. Fire shot out only to be extinguished by the vacuum of space. It began to list and yaw.

  The fighters shot around the stricken ship, and the men struggled against the g’s as they came around for a second pass. Even though most of the g load was compensated for by the drive system, when a directional change was made fast enough, the system could not keep up.

  Now One Flight attacked the front of the cruiser, while Lowman brought his up toward the nozzles of the giant ship. Fire shot from the bridge as bodies hurled into space. Escape pods shot out from several places along the top of the ship.

  Suddenly there was a huge explosion amidships, and the battle cruiser broke in half. There were numerous other explosions, and the hull was breached multiple times from the inside out. It was over in minutes. The two blackened pieces of hulk slowly spun.

  Lieutenant Commander Lowman radioed Johansson, “Target destroyed.”

  * * * *

  “Target destroyed,” was the call from the other Flights. The defending spacecraft were history. Johansson smiled. Once the orbiting spacecraft were destroyed, several of the fighters would enter the atmosphere and go after pre-assigned targets. Only four would remain in orbit as backup in case they were needed.

  Once over the target, Johansson dropped the second of his two nuclear devices. He spoke over the intercom.

  “What do you have on the incoming?” he asked even as he switched over to that screen.

  “Sir, there are at least thirty targets headed our way, and they are still a hundred and fifty kilometers out. Apparently, Two Flight has incoming fighters as well.”

  Johansson rolled to meet the incoming threat. He could just as easily escape to space, but his orders were to destroy as much as possible on this mission. Their defensive aviation assets seemed as good a place to start as any.

  “Two F
light, this is Leader.”

  Lieutenant Yang answered. “Two Flight here; go ahead.”

  “What’s your status?”

  “Both targets have been destroyed, and we have turned to intercept incoming bandits. There appears to be at least fifty of them.”

  “Good hunting,” responded Johansson.

  “Thank you sir.”

  Johansson’s gunner spoke on the intercom. “I’ve got targets, twenty-five kilometers, and closing.”

  “Wing, roll off a bit where we both have maneuvering room. Open up when you get clear.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Okay Lieutenant, when they get in range, fire.”

  Within moments, “I’m locked, and one away.” He moved the square to the next target, and when it changed shape and color, he fired off another missile.

  Both spacecraft opened up with missiles, missiles which once fired could be forgotten as the gunner turned to another target. The missiles knew which way to go. The battle turned into a slaughter.

  In an instant, they were past the incoming who had managed to get a few cannon shots off, but that was all. Johansson and his wingman rolled left to come back for a second pass.

  “Sir, I’m going to have to bring in the pods.”

  “Do it,” Johansson responded. The missile pods would be automatically exchanged for a new one loaded with missiles.

  As they came around, enemy aircraft were everywhere trying to maneuver into a firing position. It was no use. The gunner moved the green box over a target, fired, and moved to another with cool precision.

  Johansson came around for a third pass. There was one enemy fighter left. The fool made no attempt to run but came at him head-on firing his cannons wildly as if hoping to get a lucky hit. His gunner fired, and the fighter exploded brilliantly as pieces flew in all directions.

  “Topside, can you tell where the fighters came from?” radioed Johansson to the flight in orbit.

  “Yes sir, I’m transmitting the coordinates now.”

  The coordinates scrolled across Johansson’s battle computer screen.

  Johansson radioed Lieutenant Yang. “Lieutenant Yang, what’s your status?”