“What about your own people?” Bain asked.

  “I don’t know,” Steele said.

  “You lie.”

  “I’m telling you the honest truth. The JFP captured me and brought me along on this mission.”

  “How could they capture you?”

  “Because I brought them confirmation that the Delhi sewers are connected to the subterranean bunkers here,” Steele said. “We have a man in the orbitals who used to be the main sewer manager here.”

  Bain blinked in bewilderment.

  “I’m offering you asylum, Senior General. We could use your spaceships. The aliens are coming again, and Earth is a mess. Will Earth get ready in time to face six Enforcers? We have five Orion ships, we have the orbital stations, and we could use your Phoenix rocket ships.”

  “At best, that’s 40,000 tons of spaceships,” Bain said.

  “Nevertheless, we’re going to need everything to face the aliens. You know they’re going to send those asteroids, don’t you? It’s clear the aliens mean to annihilate humanity. That has been their M.O. every single time. Think about it. The railgun on Iapetus launched iron projectiles. The mass drivers launched Moon rocks. Now, they’ve put engines onto asteroids. Will that be enough mass to cause an extinction-level event here?”

  “There are no dinosaurs here,” Bain said.

  “We’re the dinosaurs, Senior General. Do you want to be a space commander? Here’s your chance. I’m offering it to you. But you’re going to have to decide now. Surely you have some sort of emergency plan, and you can get as many people as possible blasting off.”

  “This is a trick,” Bain said, although without his former force.

  “You’ll know it’s not when Delhi explodes.”

  Bain stared at this young, lean, confident lieutenant. “Your dad was really Mike Steele?”

  “He was.”

  Bain looked at the huge pistol in his hand and thrust it between his belt and belly. “I believe you. But before I move, I have to know how you ended up with the JFP.”

  “Corruption,” Steele said, “New World Conglomerate games.”

  Bain frowned, probably not getting it.

  “We had better work fast,” Steele said, “because there’s not much time before Ibrahim presses the button. Then it will be too late for everyone. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “Right,” Bain said, finally deciding. “Let’s get moving.”

  -22-

  Deep within the Delhi sewer system, the nuclear device planted by Ibrahim and Alvarez reached the end of its countdown. As the final second ticked away, the LED lights on the warhead flashed red, signaling the explosion’s imminence. A blinding, searing flash of light then erupted from the device, illuminating the dank sewage canal.

  The initial detonation created an immense fireball, consuming everything in its vicinity. The heat was indescribable, instantly vaporizing the sewage, surrounding debris, and the two men. The pressure wave that followed was equally devastating, traveling at supersonic speed and crushing the tunnel walls as if they were made of paper. The noise was deafening.

  Above the sewers, the fortified bunker, designed to withstand conventional attacks, stood no chance against the fury of a nuclear explosion from underneath. The intense heat and pressure wave from the blast reached the bunkers in milliseconds. The reinforced concrete walls, several meters thick and designed to protect against the worst threats, cracked and crumbled under the assault. Steel reinforcements melted like wax, and the intricate network of rooms and corridors was obliterated.

  The explosion caused the ground to heave and shift, creating massive fissures radiating outward from the epicenter. The shockwave traveled upward, transferring its devastating energy through the soil and rock, turning the once impenetrable bunkers into a tomb of twisted metal and rubble. The occupants, caught completely off guard, had no time to react. In an instant, the heart of the World Government’s command structure in Delhi was wiped out.

  Above ground, the city of Delhi was about to experience the full horror of the underground explosion. The force of the blast traveled upward, causing the ground to buckle and heave. Buildings shuddered, their foundations rocked by the shockwave. At the epicenter, directly above the explosion, the ground erupted violently. Streets split open, swallowing vehicles and sending chunks of asphalt and concrete flying into the air.

  The force of the explosion created a massive crater, its edges glowing with the intense heat of the blast. The surrounding buildings were pulverized, their structures collapsing into the chasm. Skyscrapers, office buildings, and residential towers toppled like dominoes, the ground shaking with the ferocity of an earthquake. The air filled with dust and debris, turning the night into a nightmare scene.

  The heat from the explosion ignited fires throughout the city. Gas lines ruptured, causing secondary explosions that added to the chaos. Flames licked at the sky, consuming everything in their path. The once bustling streets of Delhi were now a scene of devastation, with rubble and debris scattered as far as the eye could see.

  The initial shockwave from the explosion radiated outward, flattening buildings and shattering windows kilometers from the epicenter. People were thrown off their feet, and vehicles were tossed like toys. The blast’s sound was heard for kilometers, a thunderous roar signaling the city’s destruction.

  As the fires raged, a mushroom cloud began to form, rising high into the sky. The cloud was filled with highly radioactive debris. The fallout began to spread, carried by the winds over the surrounding areas. The radiation would pose a long-term threat to anyone within its reach, contaminating the environment and making it uninhabitable for years to come.

  In the aftermath of the explosion, Delhi was left a smoldering ruin. The heart of the city was a vast, smoking crater, surrounded by the skeletal remains of buildings and infrastructure. Emergency services, if they survived the initial blast, were overwhelmed by the scale of the destruction.

  The loss of the World Government’s military command bunker dealt a catastrophic blow. The power vacuum created by the destruction would lead to chaos and instability, ramifications that would be felt worldwide.

  The martyrdom of Ibrahim and Alvarez had achieved its aim, but at a devastating cost. The city of Delhi, along with a crucial part of the world’s governance, lay in ruins. The world would never be the same again, forever marked by the destruction wrought tonight, which began in the sewers of Delhi.

  -23-

  Hidden from Delhi by mountains and distance, and thus protected from the immediate nuclear blast, thirty-one giant Phoenix rocket ships stood on their launch pads. The Phoenix rocket ships were 363 meters in height and 30 meters in diameter, the largest rockets ever built.

  Each rocket was composed of three main stages. The first, the powerhouse of the Phoenix, featured a cluster of twelve advanced liquid-fueled engines. These engines burned a mixture of liquid oxygen and RP-1, a refined form of kerosene, producing a combined thrust of 60 million pounds. This stage was designed to operate for about two and a half minutes, propelling the rocket through the dense lower atmosphere.

  Above it, the second stage housed four powerful engines that burned liquid hydrogen and liquid oxygen. This stage would ignite once the first stage was jettisoned, continuing to accelerate the rocket out of the upper atmosphere and into low Earth orbit. The third and final stage, the orbital insertion and transfer stage, carried the space capsule, which was equipped with an engine capable of powering a railgun and providing the necessary thrust to maneuver the payload in space.

  The space capsule was designed to carry both crew and cargo. It housed the railgun that could propel projectiles at incredible speeds using electromagnetic forces.

  Senior General Tom Bain and First Lieutenant John Steele stood in the control tower, watching the final preparations. Outside, the ground crew made final checks on the thirty-one Phoenix rockets.

  “All systems are go,” the launch director said over the intercom.

  Bain turned to John, his expression grim. “This is it. Are you ready to make the call?”

  Steele nodded and stepped forward.

  Bain activated the secure communication link to Orbital Command and then stared at Steele.

  “Orbital Command, this is Lieutenant John Steele. I need to speak to CEO Petty or Dr. Huber. This is an emergency.”

  A uniformed woman appeared on a small screen, listening. She now peered closely at Steele.

  Perhaps moved to comment, she asked, “Is this a tasteless joke?”

  “Negative,” Steele said.

  “I don’t see how it could be anything else,” the woman said. “There was a nuclear detonation in Greenland, and now we see one in Delhi, India. It’s near you, in fact. You expect me to believe you’re John Steele?”

  “In fact, I don’t,” Steele said. “That’s why I need to speak to Petty or Huber. They know me.”

  “Both men died in Greenland,” she said.

  Steele stared at her. He’d feared that but had hoped anyway. “Are you sure of this?”

  The woman looked up as if someone had spoken to her. She turned to her left. “Just a minute,” she told Steele.

  In a moment, she rose, stepping away from the screen. Tall Admiral Wilson faced Steele on the screen. Wilson stared hard at him as if he could divine the truth this way.

  “Here’s the Emil Code,” Steele said.

  Wilson shook his head. “I’m not interested in that, old boy. You look like the John Steele I know. You also have a reputation for unconventionality. Perhaps you are genuine. Just a moment, I’m patching you through.”

  A second later, James Petty stared at Steele from the screen.

  “You’re alive,” Steele blurted.

  “Yes,” Petty said dryly. “The announcement of my death is vastly premature. What’s going on down there? Are you really near the Delhi disaster?”

  “I was kidnapped in the Persian Gulf, sir. I was forced—”

  “Shut up for a second,” Petty said. He turned to the side but appeared to look down. Was Dr. Huber speaking to him?

  Petty clicked a button, muting sound.

  “He doesn’t believe you,” Bain said.

  “Give me a second,” Steele said. “I think he does.”

  “This is a bad idea,” Bain said. “This will sully my reputation. I should remain to fight this out.”

  “Use Missile Command people against infantry and drone divisions?” Steele asked. “How far do you think you’ll get?”

  Bain opened his mouth, no doubt to answer.

  Before he could, on the small screen, Petty clicked the mute button. “John?”

  “Yes, sir,” Steele said.

  “How many rockets are you proposing to launch?” Petty asked.

  “Thirty-one,” Steele said.

  “Tell General Bain we’ll have railguns trained on them the entire trip up. If this is a trick—”

  “It’s not,” Steele said, interrupting.

  “Is anyone with you?” Petty asked.

  “Yes. Senior General Tom Bain,” Steele said.

  “Let me see him,” Petty said.

  Steele glanced at Bain before standing and stepping back.

  Bain stepped up, glaring at Petty on the screen. “I am Senior General Tom Bain requesting asylum to the orbital stations.”

  Dr. Huber spoke from out of sight, his voice distinct but words too soft to know exactly what he was saying.

  “Yes,” Petty said. “I grant you and your Phoenix ships asylum. I’m going to talk to Command Central, and clear the way. Launch when ready, General.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Bain said. “You won’t regret this.”

  Petty nodded. “Let’s hope that is true.”

  Less than a half-hour later, the ground trembled as the engines of the first Phoenix rocket roared to life. The sound was deafening, heard for kilometers. Flames and smoke billowed from the base of the rocket as the engines reached full thrust.

  The first stage burned through its fuel at an astonishing rate, consuming 23,333 kilograms per second. The thrust began to overcome Earth’s gravity as the massive rocket slowly lifted off the launch pad. The first few moments made this seem impossible as it rose with painful deliberation, the rocket battling the pull of gravity. As it gained altitude, however, it picked up speed.

  One by one, the other Phoenix rockets ignited, blasting off from their launch pads. The wounded sky near Delhi turned into a canvas of fire and smoke, as thirty-one Phoenix rockets punched through the atmosphere, their contrails mixing with the aftermath of a nuclear detonation.

  The destruction of Delhi below contrasted bluntly with the Phoenix fleet heading toward orbital space.

  Inside the lead Phoenix rocket capsule, Bain and Steele watched the Earth recede through the view screen before them. They were strapped into acceleration couches. Ahead, as they climbed, was the waiting blackness of space.

  The first stage continued to burn with relentless power, the liquid oxygen and RP-1 mixture being consumed at a rate of 1,400,000 kilograms per minute. The thrust of 60 million pounds pushed the rocket higher, piercing through the thick layers of the lower atmosphere. The Phoenix accelerated steadily, the force pushing the crew back into their acceleration couches.

  At two and a half minutes, the first stage exhausted its fuel supply. The separation charges fired, and the spent stage fell away, a fiery cascade of debris trailing behind. The second stage ignited almost instantaneously, its engines roaring to life with a brilliant plume of blue-white flame. The liquid hydrogen and liquid oxygen mix provided a high-energy burn, continuing to accelerate the rocket toward orbit.

  From the ground, the Phoenix rockets appeared as brilliant, fiery spears slicing through the sky, leaving behind smoke trails.

  As the rockets climbed higher, the city of Delhi, scarred and smoldering from the recent nuclear attack, slowly disappeared from view. The Phoenix fleet was now mere points of light against the expanse of space.

  With the second stage burning hard, the Phoenix rockets approached the boundary of space. The once fierce pull of Earth’s deep gravity well weakened, and the rockets’ speed increased, nearing orbital velocity. The crew prepared for the next phase.

  The third stage, the orbital insertion and transfer stage, would soon take over, its engine capable of precise maneuvers and powered by ion thrusters designed for long-duration missions. Inside the space capsule, the railgun lay dormant. They wouldn’t need it today.

  As the Phoenix fleet reached the threshold of space, the second stage completed its burn. The separation was smooth, and the third stage ignited, its ion thrusters providing the final push needed to achieve a stable orbit. The crewmembers, now weightless although held by restraints, floated in their seats. Their escape from Delhi and the World Government was finally sinking in.

  The Phoenix capsules glided through the vacuum. The Earth below, a beautiful blue-green orb, seemed both near and distant. At this point, the fleet turned toward OS Artemis, planning to dock there and receive asylum.

  Steele couldn’t stop grinning. He had done it. He was alive, and he would see his family soon. He couldn’t believe it, but he was grateful, fiercely grateful for this.

  Would this be his last mission? It would be if Dawnstar had any say in it. Dawnstar! Steele’s grin split even wider. He could hardly wait to get home.

  -24-

  It turned out that Director Livia Drusus had been in the subterranean military bunkers under Delhi. She consequently died in the nuclear blast caused by the Jihadist Freedom Party.

  This meant the destruction of the M.K. Mosque in Iran was avenged with interest.

  The JFP took credit for the Delhi Strike, which brought dancing in the streets of many cities and villages of Iran, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Kazakhstan, and other nearby regions heavily influenced by the JFP.

  No one took credit for the nuclear detonation in Greenland.

  After several weeks, however, most of the world believed one thing: that CEO James Petty of Orbital Space had the most to gain from the Greenland Strike. Why would he have sent a body double except to lure everyone else there, including Livia Drusus?

  Many people asked this because they did not know—hardly anyone did—that Drusus had been in a military bunker near Delhi. Most of the world believed she had died in Greenland.

  Thus, most people blamed Petty for the Greenland Strike. The supposed action blackened his name as that of a horrible criminal to Earth and humanity. People believed he had done this for the sake of power and revenge.

  Senior General Tom Bain was caught up in that, as word leaked out about his Phoenix escape to the orbital stations. Why had the senior general fled from Delhi if he wasn’t connected to the JFP and to murderous James Petty?

  Those two names—Petty and Bain—became synonymous with treachery.

  It didn’t help that, in the aftermath, powerful CEOs in North and South America and throughout Eurasia vied for military and political power. Soon enough, the World Government fractured, just as Alexander the Great’s empire had fractured at his death, with his most successful generals grabbing lands to start dynasties.

  Australia declared independence from the New World Conglomerate. Indonesia did the same thing.

  The world was splintering and fracturing at a time when it needed unity more than ever. Former WG army and police divisions turned on each other. The same thing happened in South America.

  Meanwhile, those in orbital space needed raw materials and foodstuffs for their survival.

  Despite the infamy of his name, Petty began forming alliances with strongmen on Earth. In return, he used his orbital railguns on three separate occasions. The Orion ships flew low in orbital space and launched heavy Space-to-Earth missiles, helping consolidate some of his allies.

  Various factions joined the alliance, using the laser-launch systems to send supplies up to orbital space.

  During this chaos, the world economy sputtered, teetered, and barely limped along at severely reduced capacity. The JFP gained power and popularity in many Muslim countries. Petty tried to deal with them, but they rejected him as an infidel, putting out a fatwa for his life.