Battle Beyond Earth Box Set

by Nick S. Thomas

  "Get him to acknowledge PAAC for what they are, a terrorist organisation, and have him start clamping down on them."

  "I'll do what I can. But if this fails, we do it my way."

  Jones smiled. "Then I hope it doesn't. Your way is always messy."

  Taylor could not deny it.

  "It shouldn't be this difficult. We are trying to save lives, and there seems a long line of people who want to stop us. Maybe the citizens of the Alliance want to see it all come crashing down?"

  "They want what we all want. They just don't know what's best for them. Good luck."

  Taylor put his hand on Jones’ shoulder out of friendship and then stormed out of the room. He was furious, but he was doing everything he could to remain calm. He had to be for all of them. He craved blood and knew where to get it. He wanted to wring Weir's throat, but he thought long and hard about what Jones had said. He had to give it a shot. He came darting out of the hospital to find just the few of their people he had ordered to remain. Alita was still slumped there.

  "Is he going to make it?" she asked wearily.

  "Jones will be fine. It will take more than a single gunshot and a few fanatics to finish him off."

  "So what now?"

  "It's time to take this to the President. You're coming with me. Sergeant Fry, have our people on standby. I want them ready for action at a moment's notice. You can bet your ass we are going to see it."

  "Yes, Sir."

  He left with Alita by his side.

  "I need to wash this blood off."

  "No, no, you don't,” replied Taylor.

  She didn't seem happy with the idea, but she went along with it.

  "You want our people ready for combat, but this isn't going to be like anything else we have seen up to this point. We aren't talking about facing savages or aliens, these are people."

  "Yeah? I thought that once. You soon get over it. The enemy is the enemy. If they stand in the way of the defence of this planet and the Alliance, then they will fall like any other."

  She didn't seem comfortable with the idea at all, but she didn't press it.

  "So where are we going?"

  "You'll see."

  He led her back to where they were first dropped off and stopped as he surveyed all the craft at the landing bay. He seemed particularly interested in one and headed straight for it. A man in a suit was standing guard at the door as if expecting someone. It was an unmarked and pristine shuttle. Taylor strode right up to him.

  "What can I do for you?" he asked politely.

  "You can take me directly to the President."

  "I am sorry. This is a private shuttle."

  "Don't bullshit me," he said as he pointed to their ship.

  "That ain't no civilian craft. You have covert weapon pods, chaff launchers, and more over, you are packing. Nobody carries concealed weapons around here unless they are either working for the government or a criminal of some sort. So which is it?"

  The man looked uncomfortable and unsure how to respond as he began to stutter.

  "You know who I am, and I know you are here to keep an eye on us. But you are also fully aware what shit just went down. You're taking us to the President, whether you like it or not," he said as his hand hovered over his sidearm.

  "I...I have the authority to request a meeting with the President on your behalf in the event of an emergency situation."

  "We were just attacked on an ANN live interview by armed gunmen, and one of my officers now lies seriously injured in the hospital. I'd call that serious, wouldn't you?"

  "Do you want me to request an audience with the President?"

  "Yeah...you do that," he replied abruptly.

  He lowered the door and vanished for a moment.

  "We were told to stay put, you know that," said Alita.

  "Yes, and that was then. Things have changed. PAAC might just have given us the popularity boost we needed. For once we are the victims in all this."

  "So you're playing that card?"

  "Whatever gets the job done, yes!"

  The man came back out from the shuttle.

  "The President has agreed to see you, but you will have to turn over all your weapons to us."

  Taylor went forward and climbed aboard.

  "Not a fucking chance," he said, and the man didn't dare question him.

  * * *

  "Welcome, Colonel, I am so glad to see you are..." began the President.

  But he stopped when he saw the blood on Alita's hands and over both of their uniforms.

  "You must be eager to get cleaned up. I am sure we can find some fresh uniforms and a shower for you."

  "Not particularly, we have more pressing matters to discuss with you."

  The President looked uncomfortable by their blood soaked attire, and that was precisely what Taylor was hoping for.

  "I am told you had vital matters to discuss, what is it I can do for you?"

  "This PAAC situation is getting out of hand, and you know it. They are spreading dissent and weakening the Alliance from within."

  "People have a right to disagree with us."

  "No, this isn't disagreement. This is treason, of the very worst sort, and at the very worst of times. What are you going to do about it?"

  "Of course we will condemn all violent activities, but I am sure the men who attacked you are not representative of the PAAC movement, nor endorsed by their leader Jonathan Weir."

  "That man is a disgrace to the human race. He is a traitorous dog. You must start detaining pro-Bolormaa supporters immediately, and it must start with him."

  "Detain him? This is not a police state, Colonel, thank God."

  "Mr President. Jonathan Weir and his kind ARE the enemy. They support the enemy, they enable them, and they weaken our cause and the war effort that is needed if we are going to survive this. You must act now. Arrest Weir, and stop his ludicrous campaign before it goes too far."

  The President was shaking his head.

  "I cannot, and I will not. I may not agree with Weir and what he is doing, but he has so far done so in a peaceful manner. His voice must be heard, like it or not."

  Taylor couldn't believe his ears, and he could see Vargas lurking in the background with a wicked grin on his face. It was the most emotion he had ever seen from the man.

  "You're making a big mistake, and I just pray it doesn't destroy us."

  "Colonel, the Alliance needs good fighters. It needs you and your Immortals. I am reinstating you. I want you to act as a reactionary force to combat terrorist actions such as you witnessed."

  He could see the President was effectively buying his support with a bribe in order to get him to stop pushing.

  That means he’s scared, but I am willing to take it. However things go down, I want to be in the middle of it and doing my best for the Alliance and for my world.

  "Thank you, Sir."

  "But, Taylor, you will answer to me. You will not engage unarmed targets, and you will go nowhere near Jonathan Weir until the day he brandishes a weapon and threatens the citizens of the Alliance, you hear me?"

  "Yes, Sir," snarled Taylor.

  "Good. You will be sent alerts if and when you are needed. Believe me, if you are needed, I will not hesitate to get you involved. I am well aware of your abilities. Now if you excuse me, I have work to do."

  A number of screens flashed to life around him as communication channels were opened. They were shown out of the door by security.

  "Well, that went well," said Alita.

  Taylor shrugged. "It went okay."

  "So what now?"

  "We wait."

  He smiled as he imagined what Vargas' face would look like right now as they climbed aboard their shuttle.

  "You know I'll never get used to being flown by someone else," said Alita as they lifted off.

  "Me neither."

  That brought a smile to her face.

  "So we wait? Where?"

  "Hawaii isn't such a bad place to b
e. If we can get our Stormers on the ground there, then we might as well use it as our base of operations while we remain on Earth."

  * * *

  Taylor once again found himself sitting at the bar before Kai.

  "Something soft," he stated.

  He saw Jones approaching. He was a little slower than usual, but already a long way to being recovered from his injuries.

  "Out so soon?"

  "Like you'd let them keep you there any longer," he joked.

  "Damn right. Hospital is the last place in the world I'd want to be. It's just another kind of cell."

  "So I hear you got the President to remove the restrictions placed on us?"

  "Yup."

  "How on earth did you manage that? We've been here a couple of days and already you have us back in service."

  "President knows he needs us. More than he realises, actually, but enough that we're off the hook."

  He noticed Weir on the screen behind the bar once again, and he couldn't help but turn to see what he had to say.

  "Go on, you son of a bitch, give us enough rope to hang you."

  "He sure is popular with the people."

  "Some of the people," snapped Taylor.

  They both listened in as a reporter questioned Weir.

  "So you will not condemn the terrorist attacks made against Colonel Taylor and the ANN news agency?"

  "The fighting in Hawaii was regrettable, and I played no part in it. Any death is a tragic loss for this world, but I can sympathise with those people out there who feel helpless while military leaders continue to wage a war that will cost us so dearly. Those poor souls who attacked the ANN agency must have felt their situation was truly dire if they could bring themselves to carry out such an act. My thoughts are with their families."

  Taylor felt sick for what he was hearing.

  "Is this guy for real?" he asked Jones, "He has all but accepted responsibility for their actions and is showing sympathy for terrorists."

  "Not everyone will see them that way, though, will they? Weir is a dangerous man, more dangerous than any on Earth, I should imagine."

  Taylor had to agree with that.

  "What I wouldn't give to get my hands on him."

  "You may get that opportunity. Just make sure what you do to him is not just for the right reasons, but is done right in the eyes of the people."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Laying a finger on that man could be the difference between a unified Alliance and an all out civil war.” Their attention soon turned back to the news.

  "Excuse me, Jonathan, but we are going live to Shanghai where we are receiving reports of an attack against a munitions factory on the outskirts of the city."

  The screen transitioned to a feed from a drone chasing a reporter through a street. They could hear gunfire in the background.

  "Anything interesting happening?" Alita asked merrily as she approached. She jumped in between the two of them with an arm over each of their shoulders.

  "Oh, shit," she said instinctively.

  She had uttered profanity learned from Taylor and not even noticed it. None of them had, for they were too busy watching the news. Automatic gunfire rang out, and armed guards rushed past the reporter as she turned back to the camera.

  "We are getting reports that up to eight gunmen have entered the principal Dongfeng plant here in Shanghai. There have been multiple casualties, as local security forces attempt to regain control of..."

  A massive explosion rang out that caused the young reporter to go to ground. Several more blasts followed as debris crashed down onto a car she was huddled beside. She cautiously stood back up.

  "It looks like one of the ordnance factories has just been blown up. It's a warzone down here. Oh...oh, my god!"

  She got up and ran, but as the camera followed her, she was hit in the back by a burst of gunfire. The camera zoomed past as she collapsed onto the road. It quickly pivoted and came to a halt, made a full one hundred and eighty degree turn, and slowly approached the body of the reporter. She was still breathing and reaching forward as if asking for help. Two gunmen were approaching, but the news feed cut off and returned to the studio, where they were met with a stunned and shocked news anchor.

  "I am sorry, but...I," she jumped out of her seat and rushed off camera as she began to cry.

  "That's not good."

  "Isn't this what we are set up to deal with?"

  "Yes, but we can't go in without authorisation."

  "You're following the rules now?"

  "As you have said yourself, Jones, this is a delicate situation. We need all the support we can get. The President said we do not move without his order, and that is precisely what we will do... for now."

  "So we just sit around here all day?" Alita asked.

  "A little rest could do our people some good," he said, looking back towards the beach. Many were sunbathing with their sidearms hung off the beds. Several observed from guard positions like a lifeguard might, but these carried rifles and watched out for terrorists.

  They watched the screen again and were captivated by it for an hour as news updates kept coming in. Local troops were on the scene quickly, but smoke bellowed from a number of buildings across the site as the story developed. The camera drones followed the troops in live as they assaulted the terrorists’ positions.

  "They aren't doing a half bad job," said Jones.

  "No, but we need to stop these attacks before they happen."

  "How the hell are we supposed to do that? We are fighting men, not detectives and spies."

  "No, we have to make the world see that it's wrong. We need the support of the people. We always have done. Isaacs is right in that regard. I always go headfirst into doing what I think is right, but I never give a second thought as to how my actions will be perceived."

  "Why should you?"

  "Because it's the difference between having a population that supports you and one that fights against you. They need to see PAAC and their allies as the terrorists for what they are, and to see us as the good guys," he answered Alita.

  "Don't we do that by just doing the right thing?"

  "No, you have to be seen to be doing the right thing, and what is perceived to be the right thing. Taylor is right. I have read of these sorts of events so often before. I am impressed, you are learning," he said to Taylor.

  They were silenced as the news anchor made a new announcement.

  "We are getting reports of three, no...five more attacks against war munitions factories across the world. We cut now live to Manchester, England. Where more than a dozen heavily armed gunmen are fighting with local police and security forces at a munitions factory."

  "What the hell?" Alita asked.

  Within a minute the communication console on Taylor's arm began to flash with an urgent priority call. He already knew who it would be from. He opened the channel and a shaky and grey President Isaacs was displayed on the small screen.

  "What can I do for you, Mr President?" he asked calmly.

  "Colonel, I am sure you are already aware that we are facing a widespread emergency. Facilities all over the world are coming under attack."

  "What can we do? Just give us a target and we will join the fight."

  "No, Colonel, we have enough boots on the ground for that."

  "Then what? What do you want from me?"

  "I want...I want you to make it stop."

  "You'll have to be a damn sight clearer than that," replied Taylor.

  The President was still shaky as he rubbed his forehead and took a glass of water. He was certainly stuck between a rock and a hard place.

  "Colonel, this is getting out of control. We can deal with individual attacks, but how do we make them stop?"

  "You need to eradicate the root of the problem."

  "But how?"

  "Mr President. I will resolve this problem for you, but you have to give me permission to go freelance. You must give me the power to do whatever I m
ust to get us through this."

  He looked wary, but he didn't know what else to do.

  "Do it, whatever you have to."

  "You understand that you might not like what I have to do?"

  He nodded, but did not say a word.

  "Then know that everything I do is for the good of this world and the Alliance, and I expect your full backing in every action which I must carry out."

  "Then you have it."

  "Okay, first things first. Round up and arrest all known Bolormaa supporters."

  "But...but they are not all violent. They are not all terrorists."

  "No, but they are enablers. When the time comes, and we have the luxury of dividing out the good from the bad, then we will. Don't question me again. You asked for a solution. I am giving it to you. Get on it. I will be in touch. Good luck, Mr President. Taylor out."

  He lifted his glass and knocked back his drink, but remembered as it touched his lips that there was no alcohol content at all.

  "Did you just give the President of the Alliance an order and then hang up on him?" Jones tried not to smile.

  "So what's next?"

  "Get me the location of Jonathan Weir."

  "I already know it. Everyone does," she quickly replied.

  Taylor looked surprised.

  "He's got a wealthy anonymous patron putting him and his network up in some of the most prime real estate in Manhattan. It's been all over the news for days."

  Taylor shrugged. "I guess I was more focused on the larger matters at hand. I want us in the air in one hour. It's time to go and pay our friend Mr Weir a visit."

  * * *

  “I sure hope you know what you’re doing,” said Alita.

  “Trust me. People keep pussy footing around this asshole because they’re terrified of what could or might happen.”

  “I get that. Just don’t blunder in like a bull in a china shop.”

  Taylor smiled.

  “I’d never do such a thing.”

  “There it is, Manhattan LZ1, the most prestigious port on the east coast, maybe even the nation. I never saw the day I would put down there.”

  “Maybe some other time.”