He turned to leave, but Taylor fired a warning shot at the floor beside him that forced him to stop.
"You’re not going anywhere. I need you alive, but you don't need your legs. Another step towards that craft, and I'll put you down."
"You put animals down. You want to put me down, you better be willing to do it with your own hands."
He dropped the head of Armand and drew his knife, but he did not grip it ready to fight. Instead, he threw it away.
"You going to shoot an unarmed man?"
The clone standing before him disgusted Taylor. It was an insult to his friend, and an insult to their Regiment, and yet he could not help but treat it like a human.
"All right, you want to do this?" he asked. "You’re coming with me, whether you like it or not."
He dropped the magazine on his pistol and placed it down on the workbench. He didn't enjoy hurting Armand because the Councillor either didn't or couldn't fight back, but he was going to enjoy this.
"You know you Krys play every card against the human race, and every time we beat you. You just don't know when to quit."
"When we own this planet, this heaven, and we will own it. No matter the cost, no matter how long it takes. Erdogan is coming for you, and nothing will stand in his way."
"Wrong, I will."
He rushed forward at Jones and tackled him to the ground, beating down on him with two heavy punches to the face. Jones tried to cover his face, but Taylor worked a heavy shot to his flank, but as he did Jones managed to lever out from under him and lock a leg over his neck, launching him off onto his back. Jones kicked towards his head, but Taylor rolled over and was quickly back on his feet.
One-on-one combat was something he'd become intimately familiar with since he had been used as a gladiator in the ring. He rarely enjoyed that experience, but this was different. Now he had a reason to fight. Taylor stepped forward with his hands held at the ready and launched a fast jab towards Jones, who blocked and kicked to the inside of his leg. It hurt like hell and forced him to wobble, but he just about managed to stay on his feet when a kick hit his stomach and launched him back against the workbench where he had placed the gun. For a moment, the thought of reaching it passed through his mind, but his honour stopped him.
"It's a wonder you ever commanded this unit when Jones was clearly the better man," said the clone.
"Maybe he was, but you're not him."
Taylor rushed forward with immense speed and threw a jab as he done before, but stopped short in a feint that got the same response as before. Jones leapt aside. As he did, Taylor carried through with a hook, catching Jones square on the chin. He dropped to the floor. Taylor circled him with a smile. The clone held onto its jaw that had almost been broken by the impact.
"Jones was many things, great at many things in fact, but he was never one for a fist fight, and if you have nothing more in the bank than he had, you might as well give up now."
It still struck Taylor as strange to be hitting the man he considered such a strong friend. He had to keep reminding himself that it was not Jones, and that was easy when he was being attacked, but looking down at the body of Jones on the floor made him feel awkward and made it difficult to hit him while he was down.
"Might as well give up. You’re not getting out of here."
"You are all that stands between me and that ship," he spat back.
"Like I said, might as well give up now."
Jones got back to his feet and stumbled towards Taylor as if half finished. Taylor lowered his guard, and as he did, Jones kicked once again to the leg that had been struck before. This time it buckled. A knee coming for his face quickly followed it. Taylor tried to lift his hands to protect his head, but most of the impact hit him full on and launched him onto his back.
The clone rushed past to make it to the ship, but Taylor took a firm hold on his ankle and pulled him off his feet. He landed hard but reached for the wrench that had blasted out the turbine a few minutes before and smashed it down on Taylor's arm. Mitch felt the bone crunch as it came close to breaking and hurt like hell. He could not help but release his grip and roll out the way as the wrench came at him once again, and smashing into the metal floor where he had lain.
Taylor's arm almost gave way when he pushed himself up. He knew another blow like that could stop him in his tracks. He reached for the first thing to hand, a two-metre metal tube. He had no idea what it was from, but it was lightweight for its size and completely rigid and tough. He held out the pole in both hands as if it were a spear, offering the tip to Jones to try and reach for it.
Jones struck towards the pole with his heavy wrench, but Taylor quickly avoided it, using the leverage of the light weapon and thrust it into his attacker's chest. The impact hit hard with no flex at all, and the wind was taken out of the clone’s lungs. Taylor took his opportunity to finish it. He swung the pole around, striking Jones' leg and taking it out from under him. But Taylor did not stop the swing of the pole. He used the weight to pendulum it around his head and drive it into Jones' face.
The impact hit his skull just above his eye sockets and instantly knocked him unconscious. Taylor took a deep breath and sighed in relief. He knew how close they had come to losing all the evidence they had. He stepped over to the head of Armand and picked it up off the ground as he heard footsteps thundering down the corridor towards him.
Four French soldiers rushed out into the hangar with rifles held high, and General Dupont himself with gun in hand followed them. They all stopped and looked in disbelief at the sight before them. Taylor stood with the pole in one hand and the severed head in the other; the hangar itself looked like a warzone. Dupont looked out at the open hangar doors and back to Taylor, trying to make sense of what had happened.
"Is that Armand's head you are carrying?" he asked.
Taylor nodded and couldn't help but admit it must be a bizarre sight to behold, but it was clear the General already knew Jones was the infiltrator.
"Captain Jones, one of yours from the very beginning."
"Near enough," replied Taylor, "but that isn't him. That is a Krys agent."
"We know. He was detected passing out scanners as he entered this building, but he cut a bloody path through."
"Something tells me it's time you upgraded your security. The clone got through to Armand and tried to bust him out. When I stopped him from doing it, he took the head for obvious reasons and made a break for it."
"So now we have no surviving Krys subject?"
"We have him. He'll live."
"Is the real Captain Jones still alive also?"
Taylor nodded in agreement, and Dupont's face lit up.
"This is a real boost to our position. If we can get the real Jones and clone together, it will be irrefutable proof of what the Krys have been doing."
"Yeah, well good luck getting him here. He doesn't want anything more to do with this war."
"Like it or not, he's in it; more than ever now."
"Well you can be the one to tell him that."
"Something tells me he'll be more amenable to the idea now. He's got a clone running around raising hell and a wife in the hospital. Wouldn't that drive you to want to fight back?"
"It would, yes," he replied. Though he didn't agree it would for Jones. The last time he saw the real Jones he was not the man he used to know, not even close. He wanted nothing more than to have him back alongside in the Inter-Allied Regiment. He looked down at the body of the clone and thought not of his own pain and the casualties they had suffered that day, but for the hatred he had for the clone making him believe he had his comrade back.
Dupont looked around again at the devastation all around Taylor.
"Do you destroy everything where you go?"
Taylor smiled in response.
"I never look for these fights. They just seem to land in my hands, or some wise ass throws me in the shit."
"It's good work here. We came so close to losing our evidence. Voice recordings, video foo
tage, documented evidence; they are all pointless without the specimen as proof. We could have lost that, and now we have furthered our inventory."
"Where do we go from here?"
"I've got a meet arranged with UEN representatives, and you're just the man I need for it."
"Not going yourself, Sir?"
He shook his head. "Can't risk it, and anyway, your name means a lot to many people. If anyone can get the point across, it's you."
"I'm no ambassador or negotiator. I'm a marine, a fighter. You want to send a fighter to try and negotiate for peace? Only way I know how to win peace is to kill the enemy."
"You'll do just fine."
Well that's fucking great, he thought.
"Get to the hospital and have them make sure you're all okay, and go see Jones' wife while you're at it. I want you and your senior officers for a briefing at 1300 hours."
He dropped the pole, threw the head over so that it rolled to a halt beside the clone’s body, and strode on out, leaving the soldiers in amazement at what they had seen. As he headed towards the hospital, he realised just how much he ached from the fight. The wrench strike to the arm had hit the bone in his forearm, and it was now swelling and a little numb.
Sometimes he felt as if he and his unit did everything in the war, and then he arrived at the hospital and was reminded how small a part they played in the overall picture. Parker was waiting for him at the door.
"What the fuck's going on?" she asked.
"You know Jones came back to us yesterday?"
"Yeah."
"It wasn't Jones."
"Shit."
"No kidding."
They walked on into the hospital to find Dubois, but they found an empty room. Mitch grabbed a nurse walking by.
"Sergeant Dubois, she was in this room, where is she now?"
"In surgery, Sir," he replied.
"Dubois? What's she doing here?" asked Eli.
Taylor couldn't bring himself to explain it, and he'd had enough of the stuffy air inside the hospital. It was air conditioned, but like all hospitals, it never smelt or felt good. He stepped outside and sat at a bench beneath a shelter extending over the front of the building, resting his head back against the wall. The sun was up now and it was baking hot; his exhaustion made him fall asleep where he sat.
It was an hour later when he awoke and found Parker still sitting beside him. A shadow passed over him, and he saw the silhouette of a man in front of him. He cupped his hand over his eyes to see it was Jones, though he barely recognised him. He wore casual civilian trousers and a loose khaki shirt. He had a beard now, longer hair, and looked nothing like the strictly disciplined Captain Jones he had known so well. It was at this point he thought if he had been in contact with his old friend, he would have known the clone to be false.
"Is it really you?" asked Taylor.
"I should have known you'd be at the centre of all this," replied Jones.
Taylor got up off his feet and offered out his hand in friendship, but Jones would not take it.
"Of course it's me, who else would I be?" he responded bluntly.
"Trust me, we've got a lot to discuss."
"I didn't come here to join you. I didn't come to fight. I came here for my wife."
Taylor was surprised to hear it. He thought Charlie might have finally come around, and it was a great disappointment to hear it was not the case.
"She out of surgery yet?" he asked.
Taylor shrugged and looked to Eli who didn't have an answer either.
"I'd like to know as much as you do."
"Did you speak to her when she arrived?"
Taylor nodded. "I told her you'd come back to us, and you had. That's what we need to talk to you about. Captain Charlie Jones drank with us last night, and this morning cut a bloody path through this base. It was because of Dubois I discovered he was not you, but too late to save as many lives as I would have liked."
Jones didn't seem to care for any of what he was saying.
"I want to see her," he responded.
Taylor led him inside to the room where he had first seen Dubois and was glad to see she had returned. They stepped through into her room, and she smiled on seeing Jones approach.
He looked over to the nurse tending her.
"How is she?"
"Well, she should make a full recovery in a few months."
A tear dropped down his cheek as he took her hand.
"I almost lost you."
"But you didn't," she replied.
Dubois was drowsy and barely able to stay awake.
"She needs plenty of rest," said the nurse.
Dubois beckoned for Jones to come a little closer, so he knelt in, but they could all just about hear Dubois' faint voice.
"I want you to do something for me," she said.
"What? Anything," he replied.
"Fight, fight for us."
He stood upright and looked into her eyes to see her sincerity and knew what he must do. It was a moment of clarity he'd not known in a long time. He turned to Taylor who could see new life in his old friend’s face.
"These bastards mean to take everything from me, and I don't intend to let them without a fight. I want my commission back," he snapped.
"You have it."
* * *
Inter-Allied was formed up and anxiously waiting to hear what was coming next.
"All gather in!" Taylor ordered.
They were a little shocked at his relaxed approach and ambled forwards.
"Come on!" he yelled.
"We have a new mission on our hands, but not for the Regiment; for just six of us. No mission we have ever undertaken has been safe or with any certainty of returning, and this is far from an exception to the rule. Six of us are going to a meet with the enemy where we frankly have no idea what to expect, or if they'll keep they word of a ceasefire. I am gonna ask for volunteers."
"I'll go with you," Jones added quickly.
Taylor knew it wasn't a good idea throwing him into a situation so soon after returning to service and with the stress of his wife's hospitalisation, but he could not say no to an old friend. He nodded in appreciation.
"I'll go," stated Grey.
Taylor shook his head.
"I'd be glad to have you at my side, but should this mission fail, and we not return, the Regiment will need experienced officers to move forward."
Chapter 4
Taylor waited outside his quarters for Jones who was making use of his room. The door finally opened, and Jones stepped out like a new man, standing tall and proud like he used to. He was clean-shaven and his hair shaved at the back and sides.
How sad that all he needed to recover was the near death of his wife. Although it was as much what she said as what has befallen her.
“We have a lot of work ahead of us, do we not?” asked Jones.
“More than you can imagine and then some,” replied Taylor.
“Then I am in this till the very end with you. Whatever it takes for my Dubois to lead a life of peace. I will hunt all those who wish to destroy us to the end of the galaxy, should it be required.”
Taylor smiled. He appreciated the sentiment, but he tried to lighten the tone.
“Dubois? You’re married, and yet still call her by her family name?”
“It is how I first knew her. Her name is Coco, Coco Dubois, and that is how I will always know her.”
“Sounds like it’s working out for you, unlike your first marriage.”
Jones smiled, the first time Taylor had seen him smile in years.
“Don’t remind me.”
For the first time in a long time, he saw hope that his closest band of friends were returning to what they were, unstoppable. He only wished they hadn’t lost so many along the way.
“You know what you are fighting for now? What drives you now? It’s what has fuelled the fire inside me all these years. You think I don’t want to settle down to a quiet life with a beautiful woman, to
o?”
“No,” Jones replied quickly.
Taylor was surprised by his brisk retort.
“I think you enjoy this. Never have you been more content than when you had an enemy to fight. You thrive on it, and it is why you lead us. You are the purest fighter among us. Unwavering, unflinching. You are the perfect soldier.”
Taylor didn’t know whether to take it as a compliment or an insult, for it could be both in equal measure.
“Except I’m no soldier, I’m a marine.”
“You used to be. What are you now as an officer in the European Alliance Army?”
Taylor didn’t have a response. His Marine heritage had been drummed into him his entire life, as he had done to all under his command. He doubted the feeling would ever leave him, but it was food for thought. He was born into a world where he had the weight of the United States armed forces backing him, and that was gone now. It was a feeling of safety and security he had taken for granted and now cause for concern to have lost it.
“Don’t be offended now, Charlie, but before we go anywhere, you are walking through the x-ray scanners which identify Krys agents. I hope you understand.”
“Has every one of our Regiment been through them?”
Taylor nodded.
“Then I should not like to be the odd man out.”
Fifteen minutes later they stood before Dupont and several other EA representatives. Taylor wondered if anyone else ever got such dangerous and specialist missions. The wars had been fought on many fronts and by many millions of people, but all he saw is what was before his own eyes.
“Today is the day we have our opportunity to end this war,” stated Dupont. “Not through weight of arms, not through a wonder weapon, or by casualties inflicted and lost, but by knowledge. This war was not started by humans, and yet we fight one another all the same.”
He looked around to all standing before him, as they nodded in agreement and hoped that such a plan could work.
“The meet shall take place in Basel at 1500 hours. Colonel Taylor, you are to act as representative of the EA, and as such will intend no violence while under the banner of peace, unless violence is conducted against you.”
Battle Earth VIII (Book 8) Page 5