Best Intentions
Chapter 23

Two days later at dawn, one huge module departed CJ’s vessel over the Afghanistan-Pakistan border heading for the region of the attack. It was a trip that ordinarily would only take a few minutes, but Mark had CJ slow the trip, giving the Pakistanis time to see the approach. The module descended over Afghanistan and crossed the border entering Pakistani airspace. Hovering at fifteen thousand meters, ten large transports left the landing bays.

Within minutes they came under fire from ground troops and patrolling aircraft. Tracer rounds connected the jets to the transports, their 30-millimeter ammunition sparkling off the hulls but causing not the slightest damage. Pinpoint molecular cutting beams punched through the plane’s engines causing flameout. Radioing mayday signals the pilots were forced to bail out before their fighter aircraft slammed into the ground in giant fireballs. Since the guns could not track the fast moving transports, the fire from the ground was even more ineffective. Randomly fired shells were more dangerous to civilians. CJ could have ignored these attacks, as there was no chance that they could damage either the module or the transports, but Mark wanted to make a point.

“Maybe when they see that their weapons are useless, they will reconsider their actions,” Mark thought.

“It’s time, CJ. Let’s deploy the troops. Have you set a search pattern for finding insurgent bases?”

“Affirmative, Mark. From monitoring of United Nations peacekeeping frequencies, I have an approximate heading of the route the attackers followed.”

“Good, I want them all, CJ. Every last one of them!”

“Mark, what rules of engagement should I follow in regards to Pakistani soldiers?”

“I was so angry at that fool, Zaradi. I wanted to hurt him badly, but I don’t want to take my anger out on the Pakistani soldiers. Any of them who fire at our forces are to be considered hostile but I’d rather not hurt them. Can you adjust the synapse disruptors to knock people out for ten to twelve hours? That will keep them from waking up and causing trouble until the operation is over.”

“Affirmative. I will have the drones’ disruptors adjusted accordingly.”

“Have the drones issue a demand for surrender to any Pakistani army troops first. Stun those who do not comply but destroy their weapons either way.”

“What about any terrorists that are apprehended?”

“No surrender request for them, CJ. They are to be killed, all of them! This isn’t a game. I won’t tolerate the killing of innocent civilians anymore. These people must be made to realize that.”

“Affirmative, Mark. Transports are touching down for deployment.”

The ships dropped down fast enough to appear that they were crashing, but pulled up at the last second making perfect combat drops. At the back end of each, a ramp swung down to thump onto the ground. Ten mining drones marched out of each transport and into the morning sunshine.

The resemblance to the machines that had dismantled the Israeli tanks was only in basic body structure, three-meter tall armored humanoid shapes. But Mark had CJ make some deadly alterations to these particular machines.

Painted blood red with an evil saw-toothed grin in black and white on the head blister comprised the visual difference. Their wrists were bulked up with mounted paired sets of small lasers and synapse disruptors. Where the rescue drones were intended to save lives, in spite of how they had been used, these were combat machines geared towards destruction, Mark called them Reapers.

As they emerged, they immediately moved off at a moderate pace along the designated search routes, their heavy footfalls echoing through the mountains. The transports, now empty, took off and gained altitude to act as observation craft while the module itself held position high in the sky.

Rounding a blind curve in the road, a jeep carrying four young and inexperienced Pakistani soldiers had the misfortune to run into one of the machines crossing the road.

“Look out, Farook!” the soldier right behind the driver yelled.

Farook pulled the wheel hard to the left grunting and managed to avoid running head on into the giant’s leg, but sideswiping it as he passed. The jeep went out of control, running into a ditch at the side of the road.

Yousaff, the soldier who had sounded the warning was thrown clear, along with the two other passengers. The driver wasn’t as lucky as the steering wheel crushed his throat. He had the dubious distinction of becoming the first casualty of the campaign.

The young soldiers grabbed for their guns, but the giant had crested the hill on the other side of the road and disappeared.

Yousaff was angry, angry that his comrade had been killed and angry that the one responsible had gotten away. He fired his gun into the air in frustration, screaming curses.

Just then, another machine following the first came into view, slowing and stopping at the sight of the trio of armed men firing their guns.

Recognizing them as Pakistani soldiers, the Reaper activated its speaker. “Drop your weapons and surrender,” the machine spoke in Pakistani.

The trio froze for a second and then the youngest of the three cursed and fired at the head of the giant, his weapon on full automatic. The others added their fire to his with no apparent effect. The bullets simply ricocheted wildly off the machine’s shell. One of the three was hit multiple times in his leg by the wildly bouncing projectiles. He fell screaming to the ground as the machine reacted.

The drone raised both arms and fired the disruptors, sweeping the beams over the men who crumpled to the ground unconscious. It followed up that volley by using the paired lasers to slice the dropped rifles into pieces, the remaining ammunition cooking off in a series of pops.

Reaper zero-two-zero moved off to join its fellows without a backward glance, leaving a scene that was to be repeated similarly dozens more times that day.

Following the trail, a quartet of Reapers found the camouflaged entrance to a cave. Heat imaging uncovered the deception that might have fooled human troops. They came under heavy machine gun fire as it became apparent that they were approaching the entrance.

Stepping inside and showing no effect from or reaction to the bullets, the lead machine transmitted the image to Mark aboard the ship in orbit.

“These are the guys that killed all those people at the school, CJ,” Mark said with contempt. “They don’t do so well against drones I see.”

“Affirmative. Infrared indicates that the vehicle tracks, in spite of having been erased, lead into the cave.”

Mark could see a dozen men crouched behind crates and boulders firing their weapons at the machine that had invaded their sanctuary.

“Give me a speaker and translate what I say, CJ.”

“You idiots might as well stop wasting the bullets. Nothing you have could possibly damage these machines. I just wanted you to know that I’m ending your reign of terror. Every last one of you will be hunted down no matter where you hide! Enjoy the rest of your lives.”

The firing had slacked off but not completely stopped as Mark spoke. It resumed to full intensity before he had even finished.

Mark may have felt sympathy for the Pakistani soldiers, but had no qualms about disposing of the murderers of women and children. “Kill them, CJ, all of them.”

A second drone entered beside the first. Two were all that could fit in the entrance at the same time.

Together they raised their arms. Stuttering pulses of laser light speared out and hit each of the men, flash heating the fluids in their brains which expanded, splitting their skulls, one after another until they were all dead.

The carnage made Mark sick, but he knew it had to be done. “Bring down that cave; an unmarked grave is all they deserve.”

Moving back outside, all four machines used their heavy cutting beams to bring tons of rock down, sealing the cave and ghastly contents forever.

Eight hours later, six more cave strongholds had been located and eliminated. Pakistani troops had taken to dropping their weapons whenever a Reaper came into view and most had withdrawn from the area, orders or no orders. Reapers who came across abandoned Howitzers and other pieces of ordnance melted all of it into slag.

Mark was glad he had allowed the soldiers to live. Nothing would be gained by their deaths except fear of him. It would have made his job much harder, and he didn’t think that he would have been able to live with himself after that.

Finally, it appeared that the fighting was nearly over.

He found out just how wrong he was as CJ made an announcement.

“Mark, I am detecting the launch of a missile from a Pakistani military facility.”

“What? A missile! Not a nuclear missile, CJ?”

“Affirmative. Scans indicate a thermonuclear device in the ten to fifteen kiloton range.”

“Are they crazy?” Mark thought.

“Can you tell what the target is?” he asked.

“Trajectory indicates that the module is the target of the missile. It has been keeping station at fifteen thousand meters above Pakistan,” CJ added. “Impact will be in three minutes.”

“Can your module survive that kind of blast?”

“Affirmative, Mark. The module’s deflectors have been activated so there will be no damage.”

“I have a better idea, CJ. Can you do this....”

****

“Missile is away and on course, Mr. President. Impact with the enemy target in three minutes.”

“This will teach that Mark Richards not to invade my country,” thought President Zaradi. “When his precious ship is consumed in nuclear flame the entire world will see the strength of our resolve!”

“Has the target moved since the launch?”

“Negative, Mr. President. It’s just hanging there. Maybe they are not aware of the missile’s approach?”

“Could we be that lucky,” he mused, “or does Mark Richards truly believe that his machines are invulnerable?”

“Twenty seconds until impact. Fifteen seconds. Ten seconds.”

“Ok, whenever you are ready CJ,” Mark said.

The module’s inducers focused gravitational forces on the speeding missile. Grabbing hold, it was stopped seconds from impact against the screens, the rocket engine burning furiously but impotently. Full power acceleration sent the module streaking through the atmosphere towing its deadly cargo. It came to a stop just as abruptly moments later, directly over the capital city of Pakistan: Islamabad.

“It’s gone!”

“Excellent work, you’ve destroyed our enemy!”

“No, Mr. President. It’s gone, disappeared. There was no impact or explosion. The missile stopped in midair just before impact, there was a blur on the scope and then both were gone!”

“What? Do we still have the capability to detonate?”

“Yes, Mr. President. I’m still receiving the return signal from the controls.”

“Well then det--”

“Wait, Mr. President!” said a radar technician sitting across the command center. “I’m receiving a radar return from a large object over Islamabad. The silhouette is nearly a perfect match to the enemy vessel.”

“What do you mean nearly perfect? Is it the ship or not?”

“Yes, Mr. President. It is the ship - and the missile!” the technician squeaked.

“The missile!”

“Oh no,” he thought.

“How high above the city is it now?”

“Approximately five hundred meters altitude, Mr. President.”

“Sir, we cannot detonate the missile in such close proximity, it would destroy the capital!”

“I am aware of that!”

“Sir, we’re receiving a communication from Mark Richards.”

President Zaradi just stood there, unable to speak.

“Mr. President?”

“Put him on!”

“Zaradi, are you completely crazy?” came Mark’s voice from the speakers. “I knew that you were unstable, but to throw nuclear weapons around is truly insane! Do you still want to detonate it, Mr. President? Go ahead, I won’t stop you. The module is shielded and won’t be harmed in the least by the blast. I can’t say the same for the city below. That is your capital, isn’t it?”

“Yes, you know that is our capital, damn you! You drove me to this, Richards. I was left with no other choice!”

“There is always another choice, Mr. President. You could have chosen to cooperate with the United Nations mandate!”

“I won’t give up our sovereignty!”

“Don’t you want to know what I found? My troops located and destroyed seven terrorist bases hidden in the mountains. Mountains you claimed were free of militants!”

“Lies, you speak lies!”

“Mr. President, you’ve shown yourself to be either completely self-deluded, or truly insane. In either case, you’ve given up the right to possess dangerous weapons. Goodbye Mr. Zaradi.”

“Ok, CJ,” Mark instructed. “Begin the cleanup operation.”

The early warning radar systems in the Pakistani command center lit up.

“Mr. President, sir, I have multiple radar contacts. They’re dropping from high altitude, from orbit!”

“What are they, technician?”

“Configuration matches the ship hovering over Islamabad, sir.”

“How many of them?” he asked.

“They are in close proximity to each other sir, but I estimate thirty inbound targets!”

“Where are they headed?”

“Most appear to be headed toward our nuclear missile silos and storage facilities. Several are heading towards Base Masroor, sir; the air force facility where we store the chemical and biological weapons. How can they know the secret locations of all of our weapons, Mr. President?” the technician asked in alarm.

President Zaradi was silent. This was far beyond his experience. His mind was reeling.

“Should I order the point defense weapons to fire on the ships, Mr. President?”

“No, it’s over. Have the men evacuated from the bases immediately,” the president replied. “There is to be no further resistance, I won’t see any more of our soldiers killed.” He walked into another room and shut the door. Moments later the technicians and aides heard a single gunshot.

The men rushed into the office to find President Zaradi slumped over a desk, dead of a self-inflicted wound to the head and with the smoking gun still in his hand.

CJ’s modules swept down over the hardened facilities that housed Pakistan’s nuclear might. Gravity beams ripped up the heavy steel-reinforced concrete silo covers and tossed them aside like used tissues. The missiles were pulled out of the launch cradles and up into the air.

Soldiers were fleeing from Base Masroor as two of the modules descended. None of them were carrying weapons as they ran and some were barely dressed. The sky was full of metal and it looked like the end of the world.

Subterranean storage vaults for the plutonium and other deadly weapons were torn from the earth, right through the demolished buildings that had stood above. The structures crushed by concentrated gravity. Clumps of debris, formerly trucks, tanks and planes were carried off. Nothing remained when the modules flew off except for the base perimeter fence.

Mark had CJ haul everything up into space, halfway to the moon for safety. When megatons of Pakistani nuclear ordinance were detonated the blast was visible throughout the hemisphere.

Pakistan had just lost much of its military strength, including all of its nuclear deterrent forces. Any attempt to fight off Mark Richards’ machines seemed completely futile.

President Morris sat in silence at the head of the conference table with Vice President Clark and Secretary of Defense Robert Hayes in the White House situation room watching the big monitor on the wall.

CJ had broadcast the entire operation in Pakistan live, including the destruction of Pakistan’s nuclear arsenal and the crippling of their conventional forces.

The broadcast ended with a short message.

Mark’s image appeared on the screen. “I’ve always considered myself to be a patient person. I have already put up with a lot of nonsense, but I have my limits as you’ve seen today. Violence against women and children will not be tolerated! Anyone who commits terrorist acts of any kind where a child is harmed will be destroyed. Anyone who harbors or supports terrorists will face harsh penalties as the leader of Pakistan learned today.”

The camera focused closer on Mark’s face.

“There is one more thing I feel compelled to show you. President Zaradi launched a nuclear missile at one of CJ’s modules, as useless as that was. I saved it for a demonstration and hope what you see will prevent foolishness of this sort in the future. It will be broadcast live, but for those who doubt, please focus your telescopes on the following coordinates: thirty-three degrees north longitude and seventy-three degrees east latitude, altitude is five hundred kilometers. That is over Islamabad. The demonstration will be in fifteen minutes. I suggest that you use a dark filter if viewing it directly.”

Exactly on schedule, the last remaining Pakistani nuke was detonated. It was the one that had been launched at and been captured by the module. The module itself was less than fifty meters from the blast and engulfed by the fireball. Even a ten-kiloton nuclear blast produced temperatures that reached into the millions of degrees.

When the fireball had faded, the module remained completely undamaged though a faint glow clung to the shield’s surface for some minutes afterwards.

“I’m sure many people out there had doubts that CJ’s ship could survive a nuclear blast like that. I hope they have now been put to rest.”

The broadcast switched back to Mark’s image.

“CJ tells me that the blast will cause auroras that will be visible in the skies for a few days. They should be a reminder of what occurred here today. I will, however, be out of touch for a while. I am sickened by the events of the last few days and I need some time alone to think. Nothing will change in my absence. Work that has already begun will continue without interruption. Goodbye for now.”

The broadcast quit.

****

“I guess Mark Richards does have a temper after all, Mr. President.”

“Yeah, Jim. Though you’d never know it from the meeting we had with him. Makes you feel kind of lucky to be on his good side, eh?”

“Mr. President,” said the Secretary of Defense. “Mark Richards just defeated a nuclear armed country in less than a day. Hell, just one piece of his ship withstood a close range nuclear blast! Yet you don’t appear to be concerned about the situation.”

“Believe me, Rob, I understand how serious this is. I just don’t see too many options. What do you think I should do? Something stupid like President Stone? That didn’t work out too well if you remember.” Looking thoughtful for a moment President Morris continued. “Though maybe it did, considering that what just happened in Pakistan could have easily happened here.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. President,” Secretary Hayes said contritely. “I didn’t mean to suggest anything like that.”

“Listen Rob, I need to be completely above-board with Mark Richards. The benefits of his friendship have been of tremendous value to this country and I expect them to be of even greater importance in the future.” Looking towards the blank screen, his memory filled in the gruesome details they had just witnessed. “The penalties for going against him are obviously just as severe.”

News reports starting that evening had Pakistani casualties at over 400 killed or missing. As the hours wore on, more and more soldiers woke up and made their way back to what remained of the military bases. The death toll dropped until the truth was revealed. Only three military personnel had been killed, one pilot whose chute failed to open and the driver killed in a wreck of his jeep. One other soldier was killed, but it was determined that he died from blood loss due to friendly fire. They also reported the suicide of President Zaradi. No one ever found any trace of the terrorists.

The world, which had started to believe that Mark Richards, someone in charge of awesome destructive technology had lost his mind, now breathed easier after learning the truth.

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