Leftovers Book 1 : Cold Front

by tanic

Chapter -1 : Target Unknown

"...So, then she called me, running, panting, and asking me what to do. So I said, 'Maybe you're just seeing things. ghosts aren't real.'. And she yelled back. She was-"

"Let me guess, she swore, she said she hated you, and she's not talking since."

"When did you start reading minds?"

"When you have your own kids."

Major Carl Huber chuckled. He was having conversation with one of his man, Staff Sergeant Richard Davis. Talking while at work was not ideal, but this place was United Northern States Command(USNORTHCOM), defenders of North American airspace. This place was usually quiet as a submarine on a stealth mission. So the only way to break this silence was chatting.

"Anyway, my wife got back and tried to calm her down, but she didn't. She was wailing and screaming like a madman for two whole days."

And Richard, frustrated about his daughter in New Hampshire, was talking about a 'horse-faced ghost' that his daughter met on the road while returning from school.

"God damn it, Sarge. You know nothing about kids. She was terrified. You gotta LISTEN to her."

"She's 8. I think she's too old to get scared by some shadows and bushes."

"No, I mean you gotta empathize with her. Telling the solid truth won't help her relieve her worries."

"Well, you could be right. But she's avoiding my talk since Wednesday. That's way too much for being scared, don't you think so major?"

"You said she's just 8. She's not even a teen then. My boy is in high school and he still wet his pants when he sees spiders." Carl said to his man with a smile. "Child is like a fragile cargo, Sargent. You can't just treat it like whatever you want. They need careful aid."

The chat would have continued if someone didn't interrupt the conversation.

Technical Sargent, Christopher William called Carl.

“Uh...Major, I think you should see this."

"What is it, Sarge?"

Christopher points at his monitor.

"New unidentified craft is detected in AMES CLASS E2, designating Papa-Echo-Alfa.”

The major steps over to his monitor. A single blip is shown inside the map of the United States.

"Just one?"

Christopher nods. "Yes sir. it's just shown."

Carl looked at the monitor. The blip was in the center of Iowa. That’s the heart of the country.

At first thought, Carl thought it would be just some sort of bird flock. But he realized the flock of birds couldn't have just popped out of thin air. So what is that? And how it got there?

"How could it have gotten there without being seen? "

“I don’t know sir, one moment there was nothing but civilian air traffic, then suddenly radar detects this object at 60,000 feet.”

Carl stares at the monitor. This must be a glitch, it has to be. Any other possibility just doesn’t make any sense. How could an enemy craft or jet just appear in the middle of Iowa? In the middle of the United States? And who attacks the strongest country in the world with just one missile?

"Check the malfunction and other possibilities. Does NOAA report any weather balloons in the area?”

Christoper nods and clicks a bit. While Master Sergeant Matthew Jones checks a chart. “Negative on the weather balloons, sir. and radar would filter out slow-moving objects anyway.”

"Negative on malfunction, too. sir. Three different Stations reported the same thing. It's not a coincidence."

“A meteor?” he asked again. A meteor from a high altitude could be a solution. But he was doubtful of that too.

“Negative on the meteor sir, NASA would have reported it higher in the atmosphere, and it’s too slow to be a meteor. This is cruising at just under 200 miles an hour.” Matthew replied.

Carl's mind spinned like a gyroscope. It's not malfunctioning or balloons... it's not an ICBM either. ICBM comes above the Karmen line. That's why they're called 'InterContinental Ballistic Missile'. If that's the case NASA would have caught that too. Since they track nearly everything that has a chance of hitting another satellite. And if they mean 'everything that has a chance of collision', they mean 'everything on that altitude.'

So, not an ICBM. Could it be a Stealth Bomber? Carl was doubtful of that idea too. First of all, it's too slow. As slow as a Stuka If it was at that altitude at that speed? it would stall and fall. Second, it's too high. B-2 Spirit Stealth Bomber can handle high-altitude bombing up to 50,000 feet. Russian Tu-95, goes up to 40,000. But that blip is on 60,000. The only thing he could think of that could reach that altitude was the SR-71 Blackbird. Which was out of service. And even if they created a similar plane, it wouldn't be able to sustain its altitude 'cause it's too slow. That thing, whatever it was, was not explainable to anything he could think of. And certainly, this is not a situation he's been training for, too.

But even if he still can't confirm what it is. Thinking all day long wouldn't make the situation better. Carl picks up his phone. “General, we need you in the war room, we have a situation.”

William peers at the numbers on his screen. “Unknown target is headed west and— SIR TARGET IS ACCELERATING.”

“In what vector?”

"Same direction but downward. It's starting to dive."

Carl looked at Richard. His face was as sweaty as Carl himself.

"Call the radar station and check if it's really not a malfunction."

Richard nodded and put on his headset. Nobody in this room knows what is going on. But they knew that thing is more important than just a blip.

I start my dive. I was absurdly high and moving faster than I ever have before, but I needed to go faster. Much, much faster. Let’s just hope I can pull this off before something tries to shoot me down, God knows someone probably found me on the radar at this point. Oh well, this will all be over before they can do anything. Hopefully...

"Confidence is high, I repeat. Confidence is high."

"Crystal Palace, this is Peterson Space Force Base, We have a situation."

“Target speed is at 180 meters per second and rising.”

The door swings open and General John Mitchell arrives in the room. Everyone falls silent as he walks in and looks through the panels.

“Major, give me the SIT-REP.”

Maj. Carl hands control over to his commanding officer. “Unidentified flying craft appears to have entered the atmosphere in zone E2, is currently accelerating and heading on a northwest vector in 180 meters per second. NOAA and NASA are not reporting any atmospheric disturbance.”

Gen. John tilted his head. "That's not even near Mach 1. Any idea it might be just a natural cause?"

"Negative on natural causes, sir. It changed course and started to dive." Carl replied.

An alarm sounds across the room and Tsgt. William yells the numbers on his monitor. “Sir target is now headed straight down. speed is now 200 meters per second and still counting.”

"Did you check the possibilities of malfunction?" Gen. John asked.

MSgt. Jones nods his head. "Yes, sir. But negative on radar malfunction, It's caught in 4 different Radars. One could be possible but four at the same time is unlikely."

"And no interference or any failure has been found yet" Richard adds. He was talking to the nearby stations which detected this unidentified object.

The general’s face slowly turns white as he realizes the situation. An object entering their airspace in the middle of the country and accelerating straight towards the ground? “That’s not a jet...”

John started to feel his face sweat. He's been training for this day. For this moment his whole career, but that doesn't mean he was waiting for this. This can't be real. This can't be happening. Who would order a First Strike against the US when the States were at maximal readiness? Recent terror in Seattle and some mysterious missing cases are threatening their nation. The people are screaming for avenge. So almost all military commands were on high alert. Whoever the enemy was, they would be risking their lives for the strike.

And only one has been found so far. What kind of enemy strikes with only one warhead when they have the ability to bring it all the way across the border without a single detection?

...Or is it dozens of Stealth missiles we don't know about? Cruising missiles are unlikely, but what if they made it undetectable and one just failed? He racks his brain for scenarios that could explain this as something other than a preemptive attack. But his mind just returns to the worst scenario.

Maj. Carl stammers. “What? No, how come we didn’t detect the launch? This has to be something else!”

Richard turns his chair and bellows across the room. “USSTRATCOM has just reported track of presumed an enemy warhead in sector E2, they are checking for confirmation from us and asking where it came from.”

Everyone turned their head towards the General. He's the one to make a decision here.

John Mitchell turns his face to the main monitor. One. Just one blip is everything they've got. But it's a damn clear one. If this enemy, whoever it was, has the ability to strike this nation without being detected at all, does that mean there's much more floating over the skies of New York, Los Angeles, or maybe even D.C.?

“What’s the vector for the incoming object? Does it have a target?”

He grasps the final straw for humanity and prays it doesn’t have a solid target. If it’s a falling satellite or something, then it shouldn’t have a target. Maybe this object is just going to crash in a field somewhere. That would explain this whole thing as an accident.

TSgt William drops his head. his mouth shaking with hesitation.

"Des... Moines... sir."

Des Moines, Capital of Iowa.

Gen. John sighs. He can't run away from the truth forever.

"...Flush the Bombers and alert all stations."

He paused for a moment.

"We're cocking the pistol."

The room falls silent. Some gulps.

Cocked pistol.

Exercise term for DEFCON1.

The air screams past my face. I accelerate and feel the air’s slipstream harshly brush over my skin. I squint to make sure I’m still on course. I have to make sure this gets seen. I have to do this over a place with people and cameras.

That way, Des Moines is the spot. The largest city within five hundred miles, home to over a million people. Perfect place for an air show.

I flick my wings and aim for the city’s center.

The room is in utter chaos. Alarms blaring, phones ringing. Even the people are running.

General Mitchell yells into the red phone. “No sir! It’s not one of ours and we never got a track on it! ...Yes, yes. We know! We don't know how they sneaked on us! ...Yes, sir. we’re doing everything we can to prepare for it across the board!”

Officers begin yelling across the room, “Stealth bombers at Whiteman are scrambling!”

“The President is boarding National Emergency Airborne Command Post.”

"Vice President is out of Position and on his way to Andrews."

"And the speaker of house?"

"She's on the Congress..."

"Then call the Capitol and get her the fuck outta there!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Report last known location and time of all Chinese and Russian Subs. YES I MEAN ALL."

"Canadians not respon- Ugh, never mind they just did."

"You sure all the enemy silos are cool?! Because there's one fucking above us!"

"We need to track all the other warheads that may be. move people, move!"

"Nike-Hercules missed the target! It's too cold to detect!"

"Another AAM cannot reach in time!"

“THIRTY SECONDS TO IMPACT.”

“Target still accelerating, speed is at 335 meters per second and rising!”

“Crystal Palace has sealed all blast doors. Command and control officers should head to their designated bunkers immediately. This is not a drill, people!”

“Prepare for secondary impacts!”

“Civil defense nuclear sirens are being activated at all major cities.”

"TEN SECONDS TO IMPACT."

I can practically feel my fur ripping off my face, but I continue the dive. I push myself faster and faster. I know I need to hit this quick. I’m only a few thousand feet over the city now. I probably should have started out higher.

Then, I feel it. Something in the air pressing against both my front hooves. I press myself even faster, and I feel a pressure engulf my front legs and make its way down my body. It feels like I’m trying to squeeze my way through a giant sheet of plastic wrap.

The city below is so close. It takes up my entire peripheral vision, but I know I can’t pull back. The wall of pressure closes around my entire body and pushes against me like an elastic wall. I grit my teeth and push through the resistance. Tears whip off my face and my body feels like it’s on fire.

“Come on... come on... I know Dash can do this, she has it in her. Rainbow Dash has done this before...”

I grin wide. “I’ve done this before.”

Every eye in the room stares at the main screen as the object hits the center of the city, then disappears.

Maj. Carl stares at the screen. “Detonation?”

Technician Sargent Andrews nods. “IR satellites are showing a massive explosion of some kind.”

John sighed. “...May God have mercy on their souls.”

There is an utterly deafening blast. It instantly gets cut off from me as I shoot forward at speeds I can’t even comprehend. I immediately bank east and weave between downtown high rises as I make my way out of the city. Two seconds later and I’ve flown out of downtown. Ten seconds later and I’m completely clear of the entire city. I stay at the height of the treeline to avoid radar, and all I can do is smile as pure endorphins and euphoria flood my veins. The ground is nothing but a blur of greens and browns, and I see entire rivers and hills appear then disappear behind me in seconds.

Everyone in the room was quiet. Iowa's capital has just been nuked. The worst part is that It was their duty to guard the sky. And they failed .

"We've alerted ROK-US command about the detonation. They are going to Defcon 3..."

"Air Force One is taking off."

Only reports tell that the clock is still ticking.

But they couldn't stop. If Des Moines got hit. So could other cities. Radarmen are furiously checking the screen, looking for anything suspicious.

Then, Staff Sergeant Lewis, A Communication Servicewoman got up. her eyes widened.

"Sir, we got reports of air detonation. but..."She trails off.

Gen. John looks up from his call with the Pentagon. “But what? Talk to me, soldier.”

Lewis looks up."This report is from... Des Moines International Airport. There's no damage reported. It didn’t even knock out their electricity, sir.”

“...But there was an explosion?”

Maj. Carl orders TSgt. Andrews to check the satellite feed.

"Sargent, check the feed."

Andrew flicked some buttons and the Satellite video was on. Andrew stared at the video feed showing a spectacular, full-spectrum rainbow-filled blast seen from space.

“I... I think you better see this for yourself, sir.”

He loaded the video onto the main panel.

I see a much, much wider river appear before me and I sail over it a few seconds later. Wait, was that the Mississippi? There’s no way I could be there already. I’ve only been flying for two minutes! I ease myself into u-turn and turn back around, only now seeing the vivid rainbow trail that was probably stretching the full two-hundred miles back to Des Moines.

I flare my wings and break my speed sharply. Part of me is sad I’m going to lose my rainbow trail and ludicrous speed, but I can’t go back to the farm with that. It’d be like a robber leaving a trail of red paint back to his apartment. I want ponies around the world to know Rainbow Dash is on Earth, but they’ll have to find the farm’s exact location some other way.

I come down low as I cross the river and make for the Farm. It’s less than fifty miles from here. Hopefully, by the time I get there, this will be on the news.

Gen. John and Maj. Carl watched the spectacular blast. The rainbow-colored circle had spread out all the way to Chicago.

"So... This God-Knows-Who threw a Stealth Bomb right in the middle of our country just for a FUCKING PRANK?!"

Everyone was speechless. United States Northern Command, Guardians of United States Airspace, just failed to protect their citizens from.... colorful Fireworks. Their homeland was once again, attacked by foreign force since 1812,1941, and 2001.

Whether if it was for fun, or if it was for provoking the Eagle, or sending a message to somebody in hiding, it worked for sure. But it is questionable if Everyone understood as intended.

But three things were clear.

First, Dash somehow managed to send a message.

Second, this spectacular rainbow circle will be on the news as she wanted.

...And Third, John Mitchell, Commander of this USNORTHCOM. Swore A LOT.