Several hit the runway tearing up concrete and creating impassable holes. Another clipped the wing off a Learjet. Another hit a supply truck flipping it over and causing it to burst into flames.

More of Voggoth’s suicide bombers arrived. A Patriot missile exploded one before it reached its target, sending its body as well as its explosive cargo raining down on a tree line just outside the base.

“Where the is the goddamn CAP?”

Rick Hauser, leaning over a radio technician, answered with one ear still stuck in a headset, “They got hit by Spooks ten miles out. They’re still tangled up out there. That’s why these things got through.”

A series of large explosions came across the tarmac directly for their building. The first few ripped through a group of pallets holding freight destined for air transport. They erupted, crates went flying, and several personnel were thrown around.

The last bomb hit 50 paces away. The blast shattered all the windows in the room.

Everyone in the room dove for cover. The dogs whimpered as the blast and shattering windows overloaded their sensitive ears.

Rick Hauser grabbed his shoulder. “Sir, we need to get downstairs to better cover!”

Trevor took a knee before standing. More claps of detonating bombs echoed in through the smashed windows. The air raid siren continued to blare.

“We have to go,” Hauser repeated and before Trevor could react he felt a second hand on his other shoulder, this one belonging to Casey Fink. Between the two men they managed to ‘encourage’ Trevor into the stairwell. The building trembled again and again as they hurried for the basement shelter.

Thirty minutes later the last of The Order’s warped kamikaze bombers dropped its load over McConnell. The side door to the communications room burst open as the air raid siren faded. Trevor, Fink, Hauser and the rest emerged from the partially-scarred building to survey the damage.