Battle Earth VIII (Book 8)

by Nick S. Thomas

  “And should we expect it?”

  “I hope not, Colonel. We have to pray common sense still prevails among our former comrades-in-arms, but I would not rule out the possibility of an attempt against you. With your name and reputation, you are an invaluable representative for us, but also a key target for our enemy.”

  “So I’m being used as bait?”

  “No, Colonel. I am placing you in danger, as I believe your name and reputation may be enough to sway officers who may otherwise not be swayed.”

  More ways of saying I’m getting fucked both ways, he thought. Taylor didn’t like any of what he was hearing.

  “You can’t honestly believe this can work?” he asked dubiously.

  “I do,” snapped Dupont. “It is what we have been working for long and hard week after week so that we can save lives, thousands, maybe even millions. If the Krys are setting us upon one another, it is only in order divide and conquer, and we cannot let that happen. Or do you not consider your life worth risking for the potential of saving millions?”

  It was hard for Taylor to argue with that. He just wished it were someone else's neck on the line for once.

  "You will take a single copter and six personnel, including yourself and a pilot to Basel, where you shall be met by an equivalent contingent sent by General Schulz. He assures me that he is sending one of his most trusted officers and guarantees your safety, providing you abide by the ceasefire that has been negotiated. You may take weapons, but be very careful about how you present yourselves. You may not fire or be seen to attempt to use your weapons, unless you are absolutely certain that your lives are in danger. I recommend you take only the coolest of minds on this one."

  "Sounds like the perfect trap to capture the Colonel to me," said Jones. "Which would be a major blow to your cause and a huge victory for the UEN."

  "I am aware of that problem, Captain."

  "Aware of that problem?" asked Parker. "You could be sending us to our deaths, and that's all you have to say?"

  "Yes, Sergeant, and I do not know why you are even present here when you lack seniority and have little to add."

  "Enough!" Taylor interrupted.

  Dupont was surprised he spoke out but knew they all needed to cool off.

  "Sergeant Parker is a vital asset in the Regiment, but that does not excuse her tone," he said, glaring at her. She was silenced but not at all happy.

  "I send troops out every day and with a good chance they'll die," said Dupont. "I don't like it, but that's my job. In this instance, I'm risking six to save God knows how many. Good odds and a calculated risk worth taking, wouldn't you say?"

  She couldn't argue with that, but emotion was getting the better of her. For she would have any others risked in the mission besides Taylor.

  "I have to wonder why we can't do this remotely?"

  "I wish we could, Colonel, but I do not want any chance of the information discussed to be intercepted by third parties, and there is no way to be sure of security. Additionally, you will travel with and deliver genetic material which is proof of the Krys agents."

  "Genetic material?"

  "Armand's head. It has everything they need to know, and we get to retain a live specimen."

  "That abomination should be put down," Jones snapped.

  "I can understand your feelings on the matter, Captain, but the survival of that clone is essential, the only living proof of Krys clone technology."

  "On that note, I have to bring it up, but how do we know they cannot clone any of us?"

  "The official word from Rossi is we just don't know. However, Captain Jones spent considerable time as a prisoner of the enemy involving experimentation we never fully understood. Her educated guess is that they require substantial genetic material to replicate, and, or physical access to the subject."

  Another load of maybes, great, thought Taylor. He looked to Charlie as they discussed the darkest time in the Captain's life, but he seemed completely disassociated with the subject.

  "Taylor, you understand what is going on here better than almost anyone. I trust in you to get the point across and reinforce it with the evidence supplied to you. I wish you every luck."

  Taylor nodded in agreement and left. It was one of the shortest briefings he had ever attended, which was especially bizarre, considering the importance of the endeavour they were about to embark on. As they walked away from the brief, Taylor looked to Grey. He had become his right hand man since Jones had been gone.

  "Assemble the Regiment."

  "Everyone?"

  "Yeah, at the drill square."

  "Yes, Sir," he replied and hurried off, yelling commands through his comms channel.

  Parker seemed surprise at the order and looked to Mitch for answers.

  "If whoever goes on this mission doesn't return; it is important that the Regiment goes on as we intended."

  "Regiment? When did that happen?"

  "It's a long story, Charlie, but don't get your hopes up. It's a title awarded only in name and to give us some independence in our operations."

  "What's the current strength?"

  "About two hundred, give or take considering recent casualties."

  "Two hundred? Not even close to battalion strength."

  "Like I said."

  Corporal Herrera and Silva took a pace forward simultaneously.

  "That's four."

  As he said, it Acosta leapt forward enthusiastically. Taylor could see he was trying to make an impression and had jumped before he had thought, but he liked that.

  "Five, good."

  He looked over to the copter crews who were milling about together at the edge of the circle.

  "Last one needs to be a pilot to get us there, just one. We cannot spare the number for a co-pilot. Who'll it be?"

  "Well, hell," said Rains. "Only one of us is crazy enough to fly you, Colonel."

  He knew Eddie would be the man for the job.

  "All right, that's it. I want you all to know what we're doing here and what's at stake. We have a chance to end this war, with proof of Krys involvement being the catalyst of it all. It could all end tomorrow. Or we six could be dead, and the war goes on anyway. Should that happen, Grey will have command of the Regiment and Sgt Parker will receive an immediate field commission as Grey's second. That will be my final orders should we fall, have you all got that?"

  They grunted in approval.

  "I said have you got that?"

  The response that came was a mixed mess of "Aye, aye, Sir!" from the marines and "Yes, Sir!" from the British soldiers amongst them. It brought a smile to Taylor's face.

  "Okay, then. We've got an hour till we depart. For those coming with me, grab your gear and be ready to move. The rest of you, you're under Captain Grey's command until I return. Fall out!"

  Parker came right up to him with an amused expression.

  "So all it would take for me to get a commission is your death? Seems a reasonable price," she jested.

  Taylor passed off the comment; his mind was too focused on the seriousness of their situation.

  "If I don't come back, you must step up and be the officer this unit needs. Inter-Allied has been a key driving force in winning the wars we have had to suffer through, and it must remain so. The World looks to us for inspiration, for courage, and for resolve. If we have none, where does that leave the World?"

  "But you're not gonna die, you can't."

  He took her hands.

  "Yes, I can. We all can. But this Battle for Earth is about more than one man. Remember that."

  "Not for me it isn't," she replied.

  He put his hand to her cheek, realising she truly meant it.

  "You're coming back from this because I need you."

  "Then I'll make it back."

  His hand slipped from her cheek, and he stepped past to join the volunteers who were awaiting him.

  "All right, this is a peaceful meet...supposedly. But let's just try and remember when we've ev
er met an enemy and got away without a fight?"

  None of them had an answer.

  "I want everyone in full gear. Be sure to carry a full complement of ammunition and grenades, including flashbangs, and carry a replacement load in the copter. Eddie, there are just six of us, so you're gonna have to be geared up and ready to use a rifle at a moment's notice. Not like you haven't managed before."

  "Ahh yeah, I fly, I fight, I do everything, jack-of-all-trades, you know?" he replied with a grin.

  "Make sure to load up smoke charges on the copter and have the door guns fitted and ready to be used if we need them."

  "You expecting us to fight a whole war by ourselves?" asked Eddie.

  "If need be. The rules of this encounter are no more than six personnel and one copter. That's it. Within that framework, I want every contingency we can manage."

  "What about the nose guns? I can control the fixed positions while I fly, but not the chin at the same time."

  "I can do that," Jones said.

  "Well, right then," replied Eddie.

  "Good, now remember, no matter what happens, nobody fire anything unless fired upon. We cannot risk this going to shit," said Taylor.

  "We know who we're expecting to meet?" asked Silva.

  "Negative, and neither have they been told who will be sent from our side."

  "So what are we expecting here, for you to lay out the truth for them and what then?"

  "In theory?" asked Taylor. "I lay out the facts, hand over Armand's head for them to further investigate, and they go away and make up their own minds."

  "His head?" asked Silva.

  "It's a long story."

  "Well, okay then."

  "That's about all there is to know. Lastly, if it all goes to shit, and we become scattered, it is each man for himself. We're on the border and close to friendly units. Make your way west, and be sure you have your ID cards with you to get back over our lines."

  They were all content there was nothing else to ask or say, but no one was happy about the scenario. They were fighters, not negotiators or delivery boys.

  "Okay, you know what you have to do. Gear up and get ready to move."

  It was five minutes to the hour when Eddie was making his final flight checks around the craft, and the others drank a last coffee before embarking. The General's personal vehicle rode into view and came to a halt beside them. Dupont leapt out with a few of his staff. One carried a square sealed medical box that they knew would be the head they were to deliver. It felt both bizarre and barbaric to be delivering a head to the enemy, but Taylor accepted it was the job they had been given.

  The box was handed to him. He took it and passed it on to Acosta to carry. The Private took the box with some suspicion and held it uncomfortably. Clearly, the idea of transporting a severed head made him as uncomfortable as the rest of them.

  "You've got an escort up to our frontline, Taylor. You are to run landing lights and beacons from lift off until you land in Basel at the coordinates given."

  "We'll be a target for every son of a bitch out there," replied Eddie.

  "Those are the instructions, and I have been promised by General Schulz himself that if you comply with those guidelines, you will not be harmed."

  "Well that's just fucking great," muttered Eddie.

  The General didn't pick him up on it, as he knew he was asking a lot of them all.

  "Sure we shouldn't have a scientist with us?" asked Taylor. "I mean I can say everything I know, but I am no expert."

  "At this stage we cannot risk any of the researchers on the project. This may be intended as a peaceful gathering, but I want everyone there to be capable of handling themselves in the event of it turning ugly. Inside the box there are data cards outlining all of our findings so far, including all interviews made with Armand before his death. Along with your testimony, it is all the proof we have to make this work."

  "Well, I guess there's nothing else to say on the matter."

  "Other than good luck," replied Dupont, stretching out his hand to Taylor.

  Time and context had changed the General in ways Taylor could never have thought possible. Never did he believe he would have accepted his hand in friendship, but he did. Not another word was spoken as they boarded the copter, and Eddie fired up the engines. Jones climbed into the co-pilot seat ready to control the chin turret if need be, but Taylor prayed he would not. As the door shut, Jones looked around to Taylor.

  "I'd have thought we would have taken the Deveron for a mission of this nature."

  They all remained silent, realising Jones had been out of the loop for so long, he hadn't heard the news.

  "Deveron went down when all this sparked off."

  "And Ryan?"

  Taylor shook his head.

  "Damn shame."

  They all groaned in agreement and tried not to think about the fact they were now heading into a similar shit storm as to what had been the cause of Ryan and the Deveron meeting their end. Taylor never found out what happened to Ryan. He was hurt badly but still breathing the last he saw him at the crash site. He doubted he had made it through, but it was far from impossible.

  "Listen up," said Taylor. "You heard what the General had to say. Normally, I'd say to hell with waiting for the enemy to fire first, but in this case, we must follow those orders. If there is even the remotest of chances we can pull this off, then we need every possible thing in our favour to make it work."

  The all accepted, but it was going to be hard to be disciplined enough to do so. Years of fighting the Mechs had taught them to always fire first as they might not get a second chance. There was nothing more to be said now. They waited until Eddie finally broke the silence with some news.

  "That's it. Our support’s gone, and we're heading over no man's land."

  They expected to feel the impact of a missile or gunfire at any moment, but it never came. Five minutes later he spoke again.

  "Here we go. Thirty seconds and we'll be on the ground."

  Like a beached whale for anyone to pick at, thought Taylor.

  They put down on the roof of the tallest building in the town as arranged, so both parties could feel safe that they were at least not being watched from the ground. Though after their recent drone attack, Taylor didn't feel safe at all.

  "Eddie, you stay at the controls unless I say otherwise. Keep scanning the skies for all craft and report anything suspicious."

  "Got it."

  "Rest of you, with me. Act casual, but be ready for anything."

  He stepped up to the door and hit the open button. The ramp slid down to the rooftop, and he could see six human soldiers awaiting them. He stepped out first with Acosta close behind and lugging the box they had come to deliver. Their welcoming party stood before a ship much like they had arrived in, and a UEN Major stood at the head of the group. Taylor didn't recognize him, but as he stepped out, he was greeted by name.

  "Welcome, Colonel Taylor."

  "That's not a good sign," whispered Taylor.

  "How'd you know who was coming?" he shouted.

  "I did not, but I of course recognise you."

  Taylor could not pinpoint the accent, but it was of eastern European origin.

  Bullshit! If he'd not known I was coming, he would have been a little more surprised.

  "I am Major Saric and am personal attaché to General Schulz. He has informed me to listen to whatever you have to say, and collect any evidence you might have and take it to him personally."

  "Would have been nice if he could have come here himself. This is a rather important issue which could affect the future of the human race."

  "And yet they send you. Not a scientist, not an EA leader or representative or diplomat. They send you, Colonel, a combat officer."

  "I guess they just trusted in my winning personality."

  "So, down to business. Explain to me these wild rumours about aliens cloning humans and what evidence you have."

  Taylor reached back,
grabbed the box from Acosta, and launched it in place down before him. He kicked it so it slid three metres across the rooftop and stopped in front of the Major. He looked less than impressed with his etiquette.

  “There are aliens among your ranks. They look like humans, but they are here to fuel this and keep us fighting. There is no need to carry on fighting, for we only make Earth weaker and more prone to invasion once again!”

  Saric looked suspiciously at Taylor and then down to the box. He knelt over it and twisted the locks until the seal broke. He hinged back the lid. A mist arose as the frozen contents met with the warm afternoon air. As it cleared, Saric reached in and took out the head as if not phased by the barbaric gesture.

  “You have your people check into this, and you will quickly find that head belongs to something not entirely human. The Krys are fucking with us here, and we’re playing right into their hands,” pleaded Taylor.

  “Councillor Armand, we did wonder who you suspected.”

  Taylor looked confused for a moment, as he tried to make sense of what Saric had said.

  “You see, Colonel, we know Armand was a Krys clone. We know because he was one of us,” he said as he stood up and grinned wickedly.

  It was just the trap Taylor had expected and prayed would not be the case. He lifted up his comms. “Rains fire her up, now!” The turbines were whirling within two seconds, but just as Taylor turned to move something struck the roof of the copter, and the power cut out immediately.

  “What the fuck!” Rains shouted. Taylor looked up to the cockpit and could see Rains was panicking as he tried to no avail to make the system work.

  Taylor looked back to Saric. Several other figures came up from the stairs behind him. His face turned to disgust on recognising the military police insignia on US Marine Corps uniforms.

  "You are under arrest, Colonel Taylor!"

  With that, he heard the roar of engines and two craft swooped in. Saric was reaching for his gun, and Taylor had heard enough.

  "Run!" he screamed.

  He got to a sprint towards the far edge of the rooftop, and the others had not hesitated to follow him. Gunshots rippled the floor at their feet, but they had reached the edge, and Rains had leapt out his copter and caught up. Taylor launched himself off the rooftop in what felt sickening; he had to trust in his equipment. He had no other choice.