Eric looked out and his eyes were drawn up to the dark. Streaks of fire crisscrossed from every direction to the point that he could hardly see the sky. He felt light-headed for the first time since doing negative-G drills in an Archangel, and he knew without asking that he was probably as pale and pasty as a corpse.

“What do you make of that, Captain?”

“Armageddon,” Eric croaked out. “That’s Armageddon.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“TALK TO ME!” Conner ordered as he walked into the situation room.

“Massive simultaneous launches from every ship in orbit. I think they flushed their tubes or whatever they fire those things out of,” an analyst said. “Air defenses are saturated, sir. We’re not knocking out nearly enough of them.”

Conner swore. “What the hell happened?”

“We don’t know, sir. They must have been set off by the arrival of Gracen’s squadron.”

“How bad is it?” he asked, mouth dry.

An air force colonel stood up. “We have major incursions on every continent, including Antarctica this time. Our air defenses are going to hammer them over the Middle East, Europe, North America, Japan, and northern Africa. The Block’s got most of Asia covered, and the Russian Federation are going to get more than their fair share of licks in . . . but southern Africa, South America, and Australia are all light on serious coverage, and no one’s got anything significant on Antarctica.”

“So we’re hammered,” the President said simply. “Great.”

“We have divisions on the move everywhere. Everyone was awake and leaning on the gas when this started, sir,” a general said, speaking up. “We’re better prepared now than we were during the first attack.”

“What’s the munitions situation?” Conner asked dryly.

Uncomfortable looks shot between his top advisors, telling him everything he needed to know about that.

“Great.” He sighed. “Alright. Tell them to do what they can, and get what munitions we can pull out of Detroit out to where they can do the most good.”

“Yes sir.”

Conner sighed. “I need a message sent to Admiral Gracen. I’ll record it in my office. Prepare what you need to send it.”

“Yes Mr. President.”

“I want everyone in their shells before we land,” Eric said as he walked back through the hold of the transport. “We have a major incursion happening as we speak, so lock and load and be ready for a fight.”

“What’s happening, sir?” Granger asked softly as he walked up beside him.

“Looks like our friends up top decided to make their move, finally, and stop playing games,” Eric answered. “We’ve got incoming tracks so thick you can’t see the sky behind them.”

“Jesus,” Granger swore. “That bad?”

“Worse, probably,” Eric muttered. “Get your men suited up and make sure they’re ready. I’m betting all hell just broke loose, and we’re sitting at the center of it.”

“Right. I’ll see to it.”