"What's the problem?" the General barked as he walked into the communications center.
"Sir," a Sargent said as he stood up straight, "the ETA for the transport to arrive in Los Angeles was ten minutes ago."
"And?"
"We have yet to receive confirmation as you ordered."
"And just why not?!" his voice began to raise and boom throughout the room.
"It's Los Angeles, sir. They're not responding to our inquiries."
"Another attack?"
"Doubtful, sir. We had contact with them as little as fifteen minutes ago, and the Pentagon has not verified any further aggression from overhead satellites or ground units in the area."
"Then what's keeping them from answering our damn calls?"
Los Angeles
Men in uniforms and of all ranks gathered around the transport jet with stunned looks on their faces. All of their eyes were fixed on the large, humanoid robot that had just stepped off the jet all on its own. It was a very large machine, more advanced than anything they could have imagined possible. Yet it looked like an old used car with several dents, scratches, and even the occasional burn mark.
"Permission to speak freely?" a young private asked the Colonel standing next to him. The older man's mouth opened, but nothing came out. He wound up just nodding his head. Without even looking in the direction of his superior officer, or possibly even waiting for approval, the private let out, "Goddamn!"
Lt. Col. Holmes, once he had noticed that the local men and women were too enamored with the Legionnaire, took it upon himself to command his own men to unload the rest of the equipment from the transport. "Jones!" he bellowed, and a man quickly came forth. "Take two men to the motor pool and bring me back a truck and two Humvees. Armed."
"Yes, sir!" the man turned around and called out to two more soldiers. The three then shot off past the congregation of statuesque Army personnel. Holmes walked up to the nearest soldier, "Where's the commander of this base?" The man, with much difficulty, turned his eyes away from the robot and pointed over to his left. "Thank you," Holmes said as more of an obligation to manners than actual appreciation. His long, quick gait brought him swiftly several yards down the runway to the man with the highest insignias on his shoulders and collar. The Lt. Col. produced a folder and handed it over. "Lt. Col. Holmes with Special Orders from Washington. I believe you were contacted earlier to make arrangements for our arrival." The Col. just nodded with his eyes still transfixed upon the Legionnaire. "Fine, then. I've already ordered my men to retrieve the vehicles that were to be waiting on us. Is that the recent survey of the damage?" Another nod. Holmes reached over and grabbed a series of folders grasped in the Col.'s hand. "My men and I will begin a sweep of the first four grids at the base of the hill here. If you could send another team to sweep in behind us, that would assure that nothing was overlooked." Yet again, another nod.
A Humvee roared up and stopped a few feet away. "Well, thank you, Col., for your assistance. It has made for a very accelerated transition." He gave a quick salute and walked away. He rounded the vehicle and made for the passenger door. "You'd think being stationed in LA would make them accustomed to seeing crazy shit," he mumbled to himself. He pulled himself into the vehicle and made a motion with his hand for it to continue on.
Dr. Faber was loaded into the back of a transport truck with several of the men and equipment. He had turned himself off during the flight when they had transferred to a cargo jet in Alaska as a means to conserve what little memory space he had available to him. As they began to roll down the road to the devastated Los Angeles downtown area, he did a system analysis to ensure everything was in proper working order. The specific purpose of this mission was to find survivor as well as any information as to the strange occurrences that have led to and followed the disaster that befell the metropolis. As uncertain as things had been in the last few days, Faber and everyone involved had no idea if they could expect another violent attack; but they had come prepared for one.
