Down the shore from where they stood, three fully laden assault cargo landers shifted to land mode and slowly trundled ashore with their packages.

CHAPTER SIX

National Guard HQ, Intrepid Sea, Air, & Space Museum

MEN AND WOMEN had stopped what they were doing and were gaping at the skyline over the city, pointing at the searing flames.

“What the hell is that?” Potts demanded, glaring at the sky as if it were to blame.

“No idea, sir.”

“I’m getting real damned sick of hearing that, son.”

“Sorry sir.”

“Do we have a unit over that way?”

“Nothing large for sure,” his aide answered. “I can check for scout units.”

“Don’t bother,” Potts said. “Get on the link to the flyboys and girls up there and find out what that was. If it’s anything interesting, have one of our recon squads check it out up close.”

“Yes sir.”

The general shifted his focus back to the map that showed fighting all up and down the island of Manhattan. He had men engaged with the enemy in every borough of the city, but the biggest concentration was without a doubt right on the island. They had checkpoints at every way on and off the island, but from what the brief said this wasn’t a job where containment did a whole lot. It was a war of extermination. Either the enemy died or humanity did.

Potts wasn’t going to lose this one.

“Tell Third Platoon to move their ass. We’ve got men pinned down and getting cut to ribbons on Eighth,” he said, looking over the tactical display. “And get some air support over them. That’s our major advantage here. Let’s use it.”

“Yes sir. We’re rushing the turnaround on reloading the aircraft, but another wing will be in place in three minutes.”

Potts growled. “That’s three minutes too long. Has the President declared a state of emergency?”

“Yes sir. . .?” The aide trailed off, confused.

“Then I want our old weaponized drones brought out of mothballs.”

“General Potts, sir, that violates . . . I don’t know how many international laws . . .”

Potts snorted. “This is New York, not some foreign nation. If the people of this country want my commission or my head, they can have it when this is over. The rest of the planet can sit and spin. I am not losing this city. Issue the order.”

“Y . . . yes sir.”

One thing most every civilized nation on the planet agreed on, one of the very few things, was that while it was impossible to completely shove the genie back in the bottle, autonomous weapons platforms were not to be tolerated. Drones were cheap, easy to deploy, and too well stealthed for the comfort of any nation, and those that still manufactured them were under deep international sanctions.