“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want you landing in that LZ. You said you know where this asshole is based?”
“Yes, just a few blocks from here.”
“Good, then put us down in the street outside, and divert Third Platoon to the roof of the building to ensure nobody does a runner. We aren’t gonna give these bastards the chance to escape.”
“I can’t land outside. There’s nothing but pedestrianised walkways.”
“Are they wide enough to land this boat?”
“Well…yes, but it’s highly illegal.”
“We’re on a mission from the President himself. Do it.”
She looked extremely uncomfortable with the situation, but she relayed the orders and turned sharply in between a line of massive skyscrapers. There was nothing even close to their size in the lines of craft. They filled well over half of the width between the structures and forced a number of cabs and police vehicles out of the way. Blue lights flashed as several of the locals gave pursuit.
“This is going to cause a tonne of trouble, you get that, right? Why not just go in by foot?”
“Because if Weir is guilty like I think he is, he will rely on one of two things. The first is fear. That nobody would dare enter his premises. Second, that he will have enough friends to give him the heads-up to escape in the event of a raid. I want to make damn sure that neither avenue is open to them.
“I sure hope you’re right,” she added as she brought up a video feed of their aft. A second one of the Stormers had followed them in, but they now had a dozen police cruisers trailing them.
“We’re being hailed.”
“Don’t answer.”
“What? I can’t do that!”
“What are they gonna do?” He looked at their tiny cars compared to their military assault craft, “We have no idea what sympathisers Weir has. I don’t want to announce our presence until absolutely necessary. How is Sergeant Fry doing?”
“He’s just put down on the roof and has secured the area.”
“Good.”
“I really hope you know what you are doing.”
She brought them in for their final descent. Civilians scattered and screamed as they kicked up a storm of wind and dust. The landing gear struck a luxury shuttle parked outside the building before they finally rocked to a halt. Taylor rushed to the door and ran down the ramp at a rapid pace. As he reached the bottom, two police officers rushed to intercept him. They had their hands on the grips of their pistols still in the holsters, but looked appalled as they saw him step into the street in full armour.
“What the hell are you doing? You have no authority here!” yelled one of them.
He rushed up and put a hand on Taylor’s armour to try and stop him. Taylor gripped his hand and twisted so that he collapsed to the ground before shoving him out of the way. The other drew his pistol and took aim at Taylor, who made no attempt to bring his rifle to target. Instead, he just faced off squarely to the man as three of his Marines approached with the cop in their sights.
“I am here on the authority of President Isaacs. Do not interfere with the official business of the President!”
The cop quivered and backed off as he helped his partner up and retreated out of the way. The sliding doors drew back on the front of the target building ahead of them, and two men made a break for it. Taylor leapt into action and rushed to cut them off. His suit provided a power and speed to his sprint that caused him to soar across the street and barge into the first. He was smashed against the wall of the building and knocked unconscious. The other stopped, his hands raised in surrender.
“What? We didn’t do anything!” the man complained.
“You know why we we’re here. Don’t tell me you run in a suit like that for fun.”
Bailey reached them, and Taylor nodded towards her.
“Detain this one, and anyone else who tries to leave this building. Your squad is to remain here until I say otherwise.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He strode back to the door of the building just as Jones reached it. Police cruisers hovered over them, and more officers on foot were gathering, but none approached any more than twenty metres.
“Whatever we are going to do we better do it fast, or this is going to get ugly,” said Jones.
Alita reached them, and Jones glared at her.
“Only you would be crazy enough to lead us down here. You know how many laws we just broke?”
“It wasn’t me. I was just following orders.”
“That was discounted as an excuse a long time ago.”
“Bite me,” she replied.
Taylor went through the doors with his own squad, and Jones signalled for the others to remain outside as he and Alita followed them in. Two security guards approached. Taylor identified them as well-trained professionals, not the average dropouts who couldn’t get into the police force.
“Jonathan Weir, where is he?” he demanded.
“We are not at liberty to discuss the location of our client,” said one of them.
He was tall and broad. Enough that he would stand tall over Taylor, were it not for all his equipment. He was dressed entirely in black with a fake tan and a ponytail. Taylor smiled in response, reached forward with lightning speed, and grabbed his ponytail. He spun him around and smashed his face into the wall beside the elevator.
“I am not in the mood to piss around. Tell me where Weir is!”
“No way,” he snapped.
Taylor lifted his rifle and fired a shot that glanced through the man’s calf. He screamed out in pain and collapsed down onto one knee. Taylor threw him forward into the elevator.
“Jones, Hariz, you’re with me. The rest of you stay put.”
They stepped into the elevator with the man who was lying on the floor. Blood trickled out across the marble as the doors shut and sealed them in.
“I’d tell him, save yourself some pain,” said Jones.
But he said nothing.
“You know how many times I have been in this situation?” Taylor asked, “It really does get boring. I get no pleasure from it. I always get the result I want, the only variable is how much pain you must endure before giving me the information I want. Now I am betting you are paid to be here, and not working for Weir out of any kind of loyalty. So ask yourself; how much is he worth protecting? Is he worth your life?”
The man looked up in shock. The prospect of death had never even crossed his mind.
“Taylor has killed for less.”
“Taylor? Colonel Taylor?” He looked horrified.
“That’s right, son.”
The guard sighed and looked down at his wound. He finally mumbled a response.
“He’s on Floor Eighty-One.”
“What room?”
“He has the whole floor.”
“Good man,” said Taylor as he gestured towards Alita to hit the button.
“You know I would never have wanted to stand in the way of you, Colonel. But this is my job. I was paid to be here and do this. We all have to earn a living. I don’t support the PAAC, and I never would.”
He wiped his brow with his t-shirt sleeve, and it pulled back to reveal a tattoo that Mitch was all too familiar with.
“You’re a marine?”
“I was.”
“Once a marine, always a marine,” replied Taylor.
“Not when you get dishonourably discharged.”
Taylor laughed. “Yeah, what did you do?”
“I struck a superior asshole.”
Taylor laughed even louder.
“What’s your name?”
“Helix.”
“Helix what?”
“Just that.”
“You’ve only got one name?” Alita asked.
“It was all I was born with. No family I ever knew. I don’t need two names.”
Taylor reached down and offered his hand out and helped the man up.
“I like you, Helix. You ever want a real job a
gain, you call me up, you hear?”
The man’s eyes seemed to lighten up.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Taylor pulled out a tiny camera. He clicked a button and clamped it to the side of his helmet. The other two did the same.
“Time to say hello to your audience,” he muttered to himself.
The elevator stopped and pinged as they reached the floor. It slid open to reveal a line of office cubicles. It looked like any other mind numbing office, except for the PAAC banners overhead.
“You are not allowed in here!”
A security officer approached, but Taylor strode forward and drove right through him and carried on to the end of the office. He passed hundreds of workstations until finally he reached a locked door at the far end.
“Well, I guess they do have something to hide.”
He kicked down the door and rushed in. He stopped, seeing it was nothing more than an office with a glass floor to ceiling outlook over the city. A single staff member sat at a desk in front of it. He looked calm and arrogant, and Taylor recognised him instantly. It was Weir.
“Welcome, Colonel, I hoped we would eventually meet in person, but I did not expect it so soon. What can I do for you?”
Taylor felt the anger brewing, but he remembered he was on air and took a deep breath before pacing to the window to look out across the city.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Weir asked, “That is the city I am trying to save from people like you. Think what you will, but we are a peaceful organisation, and will continue to oppose you in non-violent ways until the citizens of the Alliance understand what you really are.”
Taylor stayed calm and continued to look out as he thought about his next move. He looked to the mirrored glass of the building on the opposite side of the road and could see himself reflected in it.
“Never really was much of a city person myself, but that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to defend it from lunatics such as yourself.”
“I am not the one wielding the gun.”
Taylor smiled as he noticed something in the reflection that didn’t add up. The office reflected on the building across the way was longer than the one he was standing in, and as he turned and looked at the glass behind Weir. There was a very subtle distortion.
“We both use weapons to get what we want, Weir. The difference is that I am honest about what I do and why.”
Weir still looked cocky and confident, but Taylor lifted his rifle and fired a burst into the glass. His armour piercing rounds went right through, but did not reveal the light of day that one would expect. He looked at Weir’s face. It was now one of terror.
“Now let’s see what you really are.”
Taylor rushed across the room and grabbed Weir, launching him at the weakened glass. He crashed through it into a hidden room on the other side as the fake scenery projection flickered and failed. Taylor burst through into the room. A camera was set up for recording against flags of the PAAC with weapons and clothing of the Amitads beside them. A glimmer of movement caused Taylor to recoil back and lift his rifle but was struck by the limb of some monster lashing out against him. He was thrown onto his back.
Alita and Jones rushed through to help. A four-legged creature broke away from the machines that it seemed to be plugged into. It looked like a smaller version of the scaly Morohta Princes they had encountered, but it wore no armour.
“What the...” Alita asked.
But Jones did not hesitate. He opened fire on full auto and struck the creature with a dozen rounds as it came rushing towards him. Taylor joined in from the floor. Finally, it descended upon him. He was crushed to the floor under its weight as it slumped dead over him.
Taylor rolled over and got back to his feet. Alita had been too shocked to fire and looked at him in amazement.
“What was that?” she finally asked in an exasperating voice.
The two of them got down and heaved the creature off Jones who was covered in its blood.
“Aww…that stinks,” he protested.
As they got him to his feet, Taylor remembered why they had come there, and he burst back into the room. Weir was rushing for the door. Taylor fired a single shot into the doorway he was heading for, and he soon stopped. Taylor pulled out a small news drone and threw it up into the air until it balanced off to get a view of the whole scene.
“You’re finished, Weir. This is treason, and there is only one sentence for that.”
Weir reached behind his back and snapped a small pistol out from a concealed holster beneath his suit jacket, but Taylor was quicker to respond. He lifted his rifle and fired a single shot between the man’s eyes. It went right through and exited out the back of his skull. He fell down dead.
Taylor turned to the drone. He knew he was being watched by billions of citizens.
“Sentence for treason is death, tried and executed. This is Colonel Taylor, and I am here to tell you that the only way this war is gonna end is when we win.”
He reached forward and turned off the drone. Jones was slumped in the chair Weir had been sitting in.
“What is it, Jones?”
“To think…I almost believed that man. An enemy agent…”
“Don’t apologise for it. A way out of hell will always be appealing if it’s sold right. I am here to tell you there is a way out, right through the mouth of the beast. Are you with me?”
Jones did a mock and friendly salute.
“Then let’s get back in this damn war!”
Chapter 11
“What did you really expect to find back there?” Alita asked as they soared through the skies back to their new home.
“Honestly? I had no idea. All I knew was that Weir was in on all the shit we have been seeing recently. I hoped to find some proof of that. I hoped to be able to lock him down.
“You did more than that. Maybe now people will finally believe in you.”
“We can hope.”
“It was there for everyone to see. Live on TV, how can they doubt you?”
Taylor sighed. “We won a valuable victory here today, but sometimes people just believe what they want to believe. What they need for whatever reason.”
“What…is…this?”
They were coming in to land. Thousands of people were gathered at the docking bay that had been cleared for their landing. As they approached, they could see an array of military and civilian officials waiting to greet them.
“I guess someone finally gets your worth.”
“Ours. This unit was always a lot more than just me.”
He pressed a key on her console to open a channel across all their craft.
“This party here is for you, for all of you. You have earned it. Make the most of it, and look forward to many more like it. Good work today, and well done. Taylor out.”
They put down, and Taylor was first at the door to lead his people out into the awaiting crowd. They were being kept in careful order by military and police officials. He stepped off the craft to a wave of applause. The President strode towards him with a big smile on his face. He went forward and embraced Isaacs.
“I have to say, Colonel, I had my doubts that you could handle a delicate situation such as this, but you came through for us, for all of us. PAAC agencies around the world are being shut down as we speak. The citizens of all free nations have turned against them. They want blood, and rightly so.”
Isaacs led him to a podium where the press awaited them.
“We are all very proud of you, Colonel. The Alliance needs a hero in a time like this, and you are without a doubt the man of the hour.”
“Thank you, Sir, but I must ask, are we back in this fight? We are needed in this war.”
The President laughed in surprise.
“You most certainly are. There is much to be done, and tomorrow I will send for you, but today, this is your time.”
The President led him to the podium and began some drawn out speech that became a blur t
o Taylor. He fell into a daydream until finally he was released from the formalities. He rushed to Alita’s arms and led the rest of them back to their beach bar. It was now roped off just for their use. Many stripped off their armour and clothing at the waterfront and rushed into the sea in a manic celebration.
Taylor looked at Alita. She just shrugged and nodded. They ripped off their gear and followed the others in. The sun was setting as he embraced her in his arms in the warm sea, and he let all fears and thoughts of the next day vanish from his mind.
* * *
Taylor awoke with a massive hangover from no end of cocktails, but he soon found himself in a briefing room with the President projected at the head of the table. A week had passed since his victory, and still the celebrations had continued. He rubbed his sore head and regretted having necked all that Kai had thrown at him, but he felt more alive than ever.
A number of Navy and Army officers sat around the table, but he didn’t know any of them, and they looked to him as if he were second only to the President.
“Okay, Colonel,” began the President, “I am going to break this down simply. The Amitad attacks throughout the Alliance seemed entirely random, and our experts believe that is precisely what they were. However, the remnants of those forces have now gathered around one world.”
“Okay, what’s the problem?”
“Frankly, Colonel, their number is no small matter. We are talking almost fifty warships. They have no jump capability that we know of, and are simply staying put.”
“A strategic withdrawal to try and rally their forces for one last push?” he asked.
“That is what my military advisors think. However, Councillor Irala believes their intentions are rather more calculated and sinister than that.”
That got Taylor’s attention, and he sat upright as he rubbed his eyes and tried to wake up fully.
“Irala? What does he think those fuckers are doing?”
The President looked uncomfortable with his bad language, but he made no apology for it, and Isaacs went on.
“The Councillor believes they are assembling a device, a navigational aid that in theory could allow more of their kind to jump safely into the vicinity. Even without faster than light travel when they get here, that could present a real present danger. Who knows what else they could bring through? If the Councillor is correct, then we could face a threat from the enemy far sooner than we had planned for. The results of which could be… catastrophic.”
Battle Beyond Earth Box Set Page 57