"It is very simple really. We are going to make missiles," the Colonel then marched into the command center. Helena tilted her ear towards him and frowned.
"Make missiles? Here?" her words bounced off the closed door. The lights flickered and she swallowed. It couldn't be what she had heard. Smiling, Captain Clark reached for the door handle.
"It'll make sense inside," and he opened the door. There were flat screens with crisp resolution. Lights from monitors and LED's lit up the room like a meteor shower. There were about twenty workstations, each containing a computer, chair, and headset. There were more than twenty people milling around and shouting. In the center was a man. His arms were crossed, his shirt stretch slightly over the athletic frame. He barked questions from all those running around the room. Running around him.
"C-16 is being attacked. The number of attackers is within normal range for that area,"
"And the time frame?"
"About a half hour earlier than the projected time,"
"Again. Dammit!"
The Colonel, Captain, and Sergeant made their way to the center of the room. There was a temporary pause as salutes were given.
"At ease. Sergeant Weaver, we are able to monitor every single stronghold left in the United States. Numbers are crunched and we figure out the best way to distribute military supplies. Now, tell me about our experiences using long range weaponry," the Colonel leaned back on a desk. Her first instinct was to laugh. No one else had cracked a smile.
"It didn't work. No matter what we launched at them, they could always tell it was coming. And they always destroyed the missile, bomb, rocket, or whatever is was before it even came close to the target. They have long range weaponry as well. For some reason the Peregrinies only use it to destroy what we launch at them. Oh yea, they also attack and demolish any location where we try to make more long range weaponry," she paused.
"I think that's it. For some reason they want to fight us on the ground," she shrugged.
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