The Doc Justice Files - Thunder From a Clear Sky part 2
by Direwolf

Chapter 2- Wings of Death

"Oh, go on! I don't hear a thing," Go-on insisted. "You must be barmy, old boy. A bit too much sun perhaps?"

"No, he's right!" Lucas exclaimed, "Coming from the west..."

Go-on shut up and listened. At first he was sure there was nothing. Then he detected it, an almost sub-audible rumble like the echoes of distant thunder. He recognized it. It was a sound he hadn't heard since The Great War.

"Dear God, that's an airship engine! More than one actually, three or four by the sound."

"Now we know how they came and went," Lucas said. "They flew in."

For a few moments, the three men were stunned by the realization. Was it possible the nation was being invaded? But Go-on thought it hardly likely this little Nevada town would be the first place an invader would strike. Something stranger, and perhaps even darker was afoot.

"Now what, boss?" Lucas asked, eyeing the western sky.

Justin considered that simple question and its vastly more complex answer. Whoever it was that had committed the heinous deed had vast resources behind them. Airships were not cheap. And they were ruthless, willing to kill everyone in this town to further their mysterious goals. In addition, they showed a very high degree of coordination. The assault party had obviously landed somewhere near the town, then moved through with military precision, killing everyone so there would be no witnesses. Even more disturbingly, they had done so without panicking the people. Only an odd twist of fate had brought the three of them here this evening to witness the crime. In any case, the combination of factors convinced Justin that whoever they were, they had to be very dangerous. The wise thing to do was go for aid. But what if the killers got away, looting the town of whatever they desired and then vanishing back into the desert until they struck again? Justin was convinced there had to be a motive behind the killing, and robbery was most logical solution. However, even Justin was hard pressed to fathom what would have such value to justify the slaughter of an entire town. He swore to himself that somehow, justice would be served.

"We still need to find out what's going on, and put a stop to it," Justin said decisively. Let's find a place to hide and watch what happens."

"Are you sure that's a good idea, my friend?" Go-on asked dubiously.

Lucas snorted. "You going to walk away after finding that old woman shot in back in the middle of the street?"

"Good point," the English lord admitted. "Just wish we had a platoon or so of heavily armed policemen backing us up. Or Alex, if there was any real trouble to be dealt with."

Justin surveyed the area. By now, there was no doubt that the drone of the engines was getting closer. And he detected another sound as well. It was higher pitched, a tangle of snarling sounds that he recognized.

"Not just air ships, there are planes up there as well! They'll need a place to land..."

"Over there," Go-on said, pointing to a wide-open area just north of them. "I'll wager my hat collection that is their landing field."

Justin quickly gauged the sound and decided they had enough time for a quick look. "Come on!"

It took them a few minutes to run to the flat expanse Go-on had noticed. It was a broad flood plain fanning out from a low ridge of hills north of the town. A few gullies crossed the sandy soil but Go-on was right, it made a serviceable runway.

"Tire tracks," Lucas exclaimed, looking at the moonlit ground. "Quite a few of them."

"Those are plane tires, my friend," Go-on said.

"And if you look carefully, you can see how some of the ground has been cleared, rocks moved, gullies filled in, things like that," Justin pointed out.

The picture was becoming gruesomely clear. It was all so calculated.

"The first of them snuck in, probably disguised as travelers and made sure they had a place to land," Justin explained. "Then a larger party flew in today, before the train stopped. They killed everyone before they could spread a warning; I'll bet we could find a few bodies out here of whoever came to investigate the planes. Then they waited for the train to come. When it stopped, they killed the crew then flew away. Now they are on their way back to loot the train."

Go-on had trotted down to the end of the tracks and had gotten down on his knees to examine the ground. He stood up, dusting off his knees. "Not much wind blown sand down here, chaps. I'd say the planes came in without their props turning. Landed like gliders."

Justin nodded. "Less noise that way. All the better for sneaking into the town."

"Makes sense, boss," Lucas growled.

"I say, do you think it's wise to be standing on a bunch of well armed murderers' runway with only three handguns and my sense of style between us?" Go-on asked. "Perhaps I can talk them into surrendering."

"No, you're right. We need to find cover. Better make it quick. Let's head for the train station."

As the three of them ran back, Justin could tell that over a dozen airplanes were coming fast, faster than he expected. By the time they were to the platform, he could just make out the airborne shapes in the moonlight.

"Bloody hell," Go-on exclaimed, "there's no place to hide!"

The train stop was no more then a weathered wooden deck with a small awning set up to protect people from the sun.

"Underneath!" Justin shouted. The building had been set up a few feet from the ground on posts made out of local stones. Justin dove under it, Lucas was right behind. Go-on stopped at the edge.

"This is a new suit!" he wailed.

A pair of black hands shot out from under the platform, grabbed his ankles and yanked him under. The first of the planes skimmed over the platform awning by no more than a dozen feet, heading for the makeshift runway.

Captain Sanderson swung himself out of the cockpit of his twin wing aircraft and dropped down to the dusty ground. Around him, other aircraft of his flight wing were coming about to land. The planes were called Shrikes and were built just for the Imperium in a factory on the east coast. The design was based on the Spad from the Great War but a number of improvements had been made. If there was one thing you could say about the Imperium, it led the way in technical developments, particularly when it came to weapons.

Sanderson had been a flyer in the Great War with the US Army Air Corps. Not quite an ace, he still had a distinguished career in the skies over Germany. Which made his dismissal from the army after the war all the more humiliating. It seemed that in peacetime, the nation had much less of a call for warriors. Sanderson had considered trying his hand at commercial aviation, but that hadn't panned out. He ended up as a mechanic and groused about the direction the nation was taking. The Great Crash wiped out even that meager job. Fortunately, within a matter of days, someone offering him a well paying job, a chance at adventure, and an opportunity to help the US in its time of need had contacted him.

When his commanding officer explained it, everything fell into place. Winds of change were blowing through the world. In some places, like Italy and Japan, they were making nations stronger. In others, like Russia and unfortunately, America they were destroying it from within. The threat of Bolshevism was only part of the problem. Nations like the United States were losing their identities to foreign influences and the growing idea that the Government should provide a living to everyone was eating away at the very foundations of capitalism.

The Jovian Imperium was dedicated to changing that.

Drawn from the captains of industry and the political leaders wise enough to see the march of progress, the Imperium formed in the waning days of the last decade and pledged themselves to the upcoming second American Revolution. This time, they would do things right. The Military arm was filled with disenfranchised solders that were trained under the harsh conditions of the Great War. They were ready at last, and The Initiative was underway. Nothing would be allowed to stop the grand march to a brighter future, the one the founding fathers had glimpsed but lacked the wisdom to make real. The town of Scorched Stone Flats was an unfortunate casualty in the pursuit of that goal. The Imperium needed the mining equipment on that train.

In addition, this gave them a chance to test some of the tactics they were sure to need on a larger scale very soon. As he understood it, part of the Initiative involved securing a defensible base of operations nearby.

So far things were going fairly close to the plan. The field teams had landed in the late afternoon and secured the town. Sanderson felt bad about the civilian causalities but this was war and deaths were unavoidable, there was no way around that. Reports indicated that the new silenced rifles had performed very well, allowing the Strike team to eliminate their targets with only one casualty. Corporal Thomas had been shot by a local while storming in her door. He should have waited for back up but such was the impetuousness of youth. Sanderson had known men like that who flew in the Great War. They hadn't lasted long in the killing skies, either.

The Strike team evacuated after cutting the telephone and telegraph cables as planned but an accident aboard the Olympus had kept Sanderson from launching in time to make it to the target before sundown. Now, they had to work in the dark. But this was only a minor problem, nothing he couldn't handle.

The other nine planes of his unit had all landed, bumping across the moonlit desert.

"Fall in!" Sanderson bellowed, his voice long practiced at shouting over the big radial engines as their roars slowly died away.

Nine men, each of them with the Imperium Eagle on the collar of their tunics and a silenced riffle over their shoulder, formed a line. Sanderson set his hand on the butt of his chromed automatic and looked them over. These were professionals, all veterans from the Great War and all trusted members of the Imperium Air wing.

"Men, we are slightly behind schedule but that shouldn't slow us too much. We have decent light and time before the Olympus arrives. Let's show the crew just what the Silver Eagles can do! Jackson, you're on Shrike guard. The rest of you, come on, we have a train to catch. Shouldn't be too hard since it's not moving. Semper Imperium!"

An enthusiastic course of voices answered him and he led the way towards the train.

As they moved forward, Sanderson detailed pairs to move off and began unloading gear from the stopped boxcars. The instructions really weren't necessary, as it had all been carefully planned out before they even took off this evening. Still, it never hurt to go over the plan again and remind everyone who was in charge. By the time he reached the platform, only two other men were with him. One brought the manifests from the train cabin and presented them to Sanderson. He flipped through the pages while pacing crisply back and forth across the platform's worn boards.

Shouting voices from the darkness told him his crew was working well. He dispatched one of his aides to go into the town to make sure the strike team hadn't left any survivors and make sure everything was secure for the arrival of the Olympus. Aries Drake, a visiting Regional Commander and one of the founders of the Imperium, was on board. Sanders would have understood the implicit meaning even if it had not been reiterated to him earlier that day. Nothing was to go wrong with this operation.

As the Imperium officer paced back and forth, Justin, Lucas and Go-on lay silent under the floorboards, listening with growing shock and horror. This was even more monstrous than they had thought. Justin realized that whoever this "Jovian Imperium" was, they seemed intent on remaking America in their own image. And they were large. From the fragments he overheard, Justin realized these people had to be linked to both the men in San Francisco who had wanted the stone tablets as well as the source for the miniature radio the fraudulent mystic had been using to help him rob banks. The web was cast very wide.

With each thudding footfall, the worn boards creaked and shifted. The wood was old and gray, bleached by the desert sun and warped by the baking heat. Dust sifted from the crevices. With one particularly heavy stamp of Sanderson's boots, a thin trickle of dust fell in a gentle cascade right into Go-on's face as he was taking a deep breath through his aristocratic nose.

Go-on sneezed explosively. Justin felt his heart skitter. The footsteps stopped.

"There's someone under the platform!" A voice shouted above the three fugitives heads.

Go-on showed remarkably quick wits.

"It's just me, a wayward Englishman and my valet," he shouted, grabbing Lucas's shoulder and scrambling for the train side of the platform. He dropped his gun as he moved. "Ran into a spot of trouble and took refuge for the night, got lost as it were, all these hills look alike don't you know. If you chaps could lend a hand I'd be ever so grateful."

Between his voice and bumping progress, Go-on was providing a fine focus of attention. Lucas was following him out, adding to the commotion. Silently, Justin rolled the other direction. He took a deep, steadying breath as he watched Go-on and Lucas clamber out from under the deck into a swarm of flashlight beams. Justin knew this was the best chance he was going to have. He took it.

A single smooth roll brought him out into the open. He was up in an instant, moving with fluid grace and silently scaling the wooden steps. Everyone was looking at Go-on and Lucas who were blinking in a maze of flashlight beams. Go-on was prattling on, grinning like a loon and thanking the ‘army for lending a hand'. It looked like no one was going to start shooting right away. Justin quickly holstered his gun and jumped up, catching the lip of the awning. No one saw him as he swung himself up to the top.

Sanderson was not pleased. The two men that emerged from under the train station were a complication he didn't need. He could simply shoot them and say that the Strike team had missed two targets, but if what the well-dressed one was saying was true, he might have a more complex problem on his hands. It seemed he'd managed to capture a ‘Peer of the Realm' and if one of them vanished in the desert, that might draw unwanted attention to this remote town. And this close to launching The Initiative, the Imperium might not want to risk drawing too much notice. So Sanderson decided to do what military men had been doing for centuries, kick the problem to a superior officer.

"Your Lordship.... Your Lordship! SHUT UP!" Sanderson bellowed at last. By now, everyone was gathered around and the Captain could see his timetable going to hell already. At last, the chattering Englishman went silent, but still smiled at him even though he and his man had been patted down for weapons as a precaution. "This is a complex situation, your Lordship, you have stumbled into ....a secret army project. I'm going to have to ask you to wait in a secure location until... I get further instructions on what to do."

"Of course, my good fellow. I understand completely. My man and I will stay out of your way while you do.... your secret things. So, shall we wait in our car or what?"

"No, I think a closer location would be preferable, so you don't get attacked by the bandits that did this to the town. Lieutenant Adams, will you escort our guests to the storage shed and make sure they are secure?"

Adams saluted smartly and led the two intruders away, the English lord was still chattering on about how splendid it was to find help from the stalwart doughboys. Sanderson shook his head.

"Kings and lords, what a ridiculous idea for government," he muttered to his men. "All right, back to work. We still have a train to unload."

"Captain, Sanderson, sir, are you going to call the Olympus from the plane for instructions?" his aid asked.

Sanderson considered for a few moments while he watched Adams bar the door on the storage shed then take a guard position in front of it. "No. We are supposed to maintain radio silence and the situation is still under control. The Olympus will be here in less than an hour and we can ask then. We stick to the plan."

The man saluted and returned to his duties. Sanderson looked at the shed and shook his head slowly. He had the nagging feeling things were about to go wrong.

"But the plan is sound," he snarled to himself, Semper Imperium!"

From atop the awning, Justin surveyed the area, marking the location of all the armed men. A plan was forming in his mind, a dangerous plan that would require exact timing and a measure of luck. But Justin realized he had to try. Waiting for the Olympus to arrive, which he assumed had to be one of the inbound airships, would only make the situation all the more difficult. He had to act quickly.

Pressed against the worn roof, Justin silently crawled to the edge furthest from the voice identified as Captain Sanderson. He paused long enough to take a pen out of his pocket then looked up across the platform. He spotted a tangle of tumbled weeds lodged against one of the train's massive wheels. He threw the pen. It hit the wheel with a slight clang then rustled into the thorny weeds.

"What was that?"

Flashlight beams honed in on the slight noise. But Doc Collins was already moving. His massive strength let him swing himself down from the roof to drop silently to the ground. He doubled over and moved off quickly, keeping the bulk of the train station between him and the solders of the Imperium. He swung wide into the darkness then turned towards where the ten planes had landed. As he moved, he checked to make sure his gun was still in place, and then took a folding knife from his coat pocket. It was too bad he had left his satchel in the car, there were a number of things in it that would come in very handy right now. But there wasn't time to fetch it. He would have to rely on his one pistol, his folding knife and his wits to take on ten armed men as well as whoever else was on the way in the incoming airships.

In the moonlight, Justin's lips drew back into a wolf-like grin, the snarl of a hunter. One way or another, this was going to be interesting.

To be continued...