Battle Earth IX (Book 9)

by Nick S. Thomas

  The fixed weapon emplacements tracked as quickly as they could, but most of their fire missed the vehicles, and it was too late. They hit the wall with a vicious impact, and just as before, went silent for a moment. Jones froze and looked to Taylor in horror.

  "Off the wall!" Taylor screamed.

  He immediately ran to the edge and jumped. He had to hope the others would follow suit. Taylor was heading head first onto a Mech and simply slipped his shield beneath his feet like a surfboard and landed square on top of it. The weight of the impact smashed it head first into the ground, but that wasn't enough certainty for Taylor. He landed fairly solidly and quickly put the barrel of his rifle to the back of the Mech and fired a three-shot burst.

  "Take cover!" someone yelled.

  It was the only reminder he needed. He rolled over and lifted his shield to hide behind it, and had just five seconds before the blast ignited. Showers of debris impacted over his shield, but nothing substantial. He pulled it aside and got up. The wall before him had remained intact, but then he turned westward and could see the dust settling and a gaping hole in their defences. In his daze he had forgotten all about the Mechs dropping above them, and a pulse stuck the ground only centimetres from his feet. He raised his shield, and as he looked up, one of the creatures was hurtling towards him.

  The Mech struck the base of his shield. It gave way and twisted his still recovering arm. He let out a cry in agony, as he felt the pin sharp agony run up the arm as the creature landed beside him. With one swing, the creature swung its pulse cannon around and used it like a club to smash him in the flank while the pain was distracting him. He felt his body fold at the waist, and he dropped to the ground.

  As he hit landed, he realised the trouble he was in and pulled his shield around to cover his body. The cannon opened fire, and three pulses struck his shield in rapid succession. He had no idea what to do, for he was pinned down, and the shield wouldn't last out much longer.

  The firing stopped, and he carefully peered around his shield. His eyes widened on seeing a foot of the Mech stomping down towards him. He raised his shield at the last second, and the impact forced it onto his helmet with such immense force he was knocked unconscious.

  * * *

  Taylor awoke to a bumpy ride. He was moving fast and looking at the floor. His vision began to clear, and he could tell he was being carried, but was noticeably higher than any human could carry him. A moment later he was placed down to rest and was able to see the face of his saviour - Jafar.

  "How long have I been out?" Mitch quickly asked.

  "Too long!" a voice yelled at his flank.

  He turned and saw Jones bandaging up a superficial wound on his own arm.

  "Really, how long?" Taylor insisted.

  "Couple of hours."

  Taylor's eyes widened.

  "Two hours? What the hell has happened in that time?"

  "About what you'd expect."

  Taylor shook his head. He was relieved to be alive, but the sensation was overwhelmed by his anger that he had not been there to fight the battle. He looked around at the subway station a little over fifty metres ahead of him. It was where he had been called to Heath's operations room.

  "What are we doing here? Why aren't we in the fight?"

  "We've been pulled back for a little R&R," replied Jones.

  "How much have we lost?"

  Jones went quiet and looked down as he finished tying his bandage.

  "How much?"

  He slowly looked up at Taylor, and he could already tell it wasn't going to be good news.

  "To the east and north four tiers, but we still hold them to the south and west."

  "Four?" asked Taylor.

  He wasn’t really surprised but still felt shocked. He went silent, taking in everything around him. He could hear the war still raging in the distance.

  "We can't stay here," he muttered.

  Jones looked over to him.

  "What was that?"

  Taylor took in a deep breath.

  "You were right. We're losing. Stay here and we all die."

  It was loud enough that a number of the troops around him also heard what he had said. It was clear they agreed with him. Taylor looked around for a rifle and soon found one, though he had no idea if it was his. He propped it beside him and used it for leverage to get to his feet.

  "Where are you going?" Jones asked.

  "To make sure the General knows what’s what."

  "He ain't gonna like that."

  "I don't give a shit. We either get out of here ASAP, or it’s over for all of us."

  Jones couldn't disagree, so he leapt to his side and followed him on towards the subway station entrance. Taylor passed Parker. She stood talking with her platoon, and he acknowledged her as he stepped beyond. He hadn't even thought to ask after casualties and who of his friends might be dead. The survival of them all was too important to be distracted with anything.

  "How you gonna play this?"

  "Same way I always do, Charlie."

  "Piss everyone off, then?"

  Taylor smiled a little in response, but it soon waned at the thought of their present situation.

  "Something like that, yes."

  The guards let him by without question, for they all knew who he was. As the two of them stepped into Heath's war room, they could feel the tension there. Nobody was speaking, and Heath was sitting back and upright in his chair deep in thought while many of his staff just looked lost and confused. The General had the look of a broken man about himself, and Taylor knew it was the prime time to make his point. He strode up to the General so he might talk privately.

  "Sir, we're done here," he whispered.

  Heath nodded in partial agreement, but Taylor could see General White approaching to join the conversation.

  "If you have something to say, Colonel, then let it out," he stated for all to hear.

  Taylor looked up and nodded, thinking carefully about how to word it.

  "Well come on," added White.

  "This fight, this city, it's over. All we can do by staying here is prolong our deaths."

  "You are famed for many things, Colonel, cowardice is not one of them, so don't start now."

  "Cowardice!" Jones shouted, "You've got some nerve..."

  Taylor lifted his hand and stopped the Captain as he tried to lunge forward in his verbal attack. As he did so, he noticed the enemy advances displayed on the map projection. It was clear their were being encircled.

  "Sir, we’re being surrounded. We cannot survive this. I'm sure everyone in the room is familiar with a tactical withdrawal. You are all qualified officers, after all?" Taylor asked dryly.

  The question was rhetorical, and he knew it would piss White off, but they all remained silent as they waited for more explanation.

  "This simple fact is we are in deep shit. I don't have the answers, but I do know dying here, and it won't take long, will not help anyone. I say we get out, and put some distance between us and them."

  "We were ordered to hold here, and that's precisely what we'll do. I know following orders is a concept entirely alien to you, Colonel, but let's not forget who is in charge here."

  "No, let's not," he replied sternly, looking back at Heath who had still not spoken a word or even acknowledged either of them. As Taylor waited for a response, his senses had begun to recover, and he could smell and taste everything around them. A waft of coffee spread through the air, but more than anything, rank sweat dominated the room. He looked over to Heath. There was a burn mark on the side of his helmet and deep scratches in his armour. He had clearly joined the fight at some stage and smelt as bad as he did.

  It all only served to make the entire place even more depressing. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, only a grizzly few hours or days left to survive through. He wouldn’t hold his tongue any longer.

  “General Heath. Baltimore is a pit for us to crawl into and die. I won’t be a part of it. I won’t let my peop
le die here because of a fool’s errand. We’re out of here, and so should you. You’d better decide whether you want to have our help getting out of here, or if you want to stay here to rot.”

  White jumped into the conversation furiously.

  “We cannot leave. We have a duty to…”

  But Heath finally moved and slammed his hand down on the table before him. It was enough of a shock to bring White to a halt. As the officer in command, they all looked to him.

  “Baltimore couldn’t be defended the first time, and it cannot be defended now. I will not stand to lose everyone under my command for no good reason. We’re leaving here, and we’re doing it as quickly as we goddamn can!”

  General White looked astonished by his statement but did not argue it. Heath took in a deep breath. He looked like a broken man who had finally been given a way out of his misery. He looked across his briefing table and the map displayed on it.

  “So where will we go?”

  “Washington,” a voice replied from a hopeful officer nearby.

  Heath shook his head.

  “DC? Are you kidding me? New York is a wasteland. We’re getting run out of Baltimore, and you think Washington will be safe? No, no, anyone with any sense bugged out of the capitol as soon as this happened.”

  He slid his hand across the projection until he reached Pittsburgh.

  “Yes, this is it. Clearest route out, enough distance from our current location to make a difference, and we should be able to rendezvous with Army forces there. Pittsburgh was a key point in our lines last time we fought on this soil. I know for a fact that emergency measures will already have several regiments in situ. Let’s fight this battle on our terms.”

  Most around the room nodded in agreement, except for White. The General looked to Taylor. It was not hate in his eyes. He didn’t like what Taylor was doing, but he smiled in response, for he certainly appreciated it.

  “We’ve got maybe nine thousand troops in this city. Getting them out is going to be no easy task,” said Heath, “We’re gonna need an hour to get a plan together, Colonel. You’ve shown us the way. Now I would ask you to go back to your people, and keep doing what you do best. You’re a fighter, Colonel. It is where you belong. We’ll find a way out of this.”

  Taylor wanted to turn and leave, but he could not help but think he wanted a hand in the decisions that could mean life or death for so many thousands of his countrymen.

  “Sir, I think I can be vital to the planning of this operation…”

  “Colonel Taylor!” White interrupted, “You have your orders. Get to them.”

  Heath turned and glared at him as well, and he knew he had said all he could say without creating new enemies; and he had enough as it was. Taylor nodded in acceptance.

  “Thank you, Sir, and good luck,” he said to Heath.

  He turned and left with Jones by his side.

  “You went easy on them,” said Jones as they were leaving the building, “Going soft in your old age?”

  Taylor stopped and looked at Jones.

  “Honestly? My head hurts. My whole body hurts. Standing in there, all I wanted was to get out here and take a breath of fresh air, or as fresh as we can get. Just because I had one idea, doesn’t mean I’m full of them. We have always been fighters in this war. We’re field officers, nothing more. Let’s stick to what we’re good at.”

  They carried on back to their unit. They were getting what rest they could while scattered around the centre of the city. Parker was the first one to approach and had tears in her eyes.

  “We’re not getting out of this one, are we?” she asked, standing in front of them.

  Taylor righted himself and stood proud with a stern expression on his face.

  “When have we ever not got out? We are getting out, and we are winning this war, and don’t you forget it!”

  Chapter 6

  Taylor looked out to the south at the Mech forces encircling the city. He was on top of the tallest tower still remaining and could see kilometres into the distance, but it was also a rather disconcerting feeling, like being in a fishbowl. He couldn't help but feel the enemy could take a pop at him at any moment. He climbed onto the ladder, slid down to the next level, and walked out onto the wall where Jones was waiting.

  "Not nice up there, is it?"

  Taylor shook his head. Engines fired up behind them, and he looked down at the vehicles being prepared to leave. Every road and airworthy vehicle still in the city had been gathered ready for the retreat, but he wondered if it would be enough. He could still hear gunfire in the distance. The troops there were continuing to hold back the enemy.

  "Think this plan can work?"

  "It has to, Charlie. It's that or die."

  “You know what gets me, why haven’t they just nuked us yet? Or whatever super weapon they have like it. They could finish us easily while we’re all held up here. One day, and we’d be done for.”

  “Not like they’re doing a bad job as it is,” replied Taylor.

  Although he shook his head even as he said the words, it didn’t make sense to him either. Jones took a deep breath and then finally came out with some history, as he so often did.

  “You know what Hitler once said, that he would do what Napoleon could not?”

  Taylor turned and waited for the punch line.

  “He wanted to cross the English Channel, invade Britain, and defeat Russia. He wanted the whole world to know he was a better man and a better leader than those who had come before him. It’s no different here. Erdogan wants us all to know he can achieve all that his peers failed, and in record time.”

  “You think that’s really it? All this because of what, pride?”

  “Is it that surprising? Jafar says that Earth for them is some paradise, so maybe they don’t want to use apocalyptic weapons, but I’d bet good money that’s not the case. Erdogan is revelling in the fact he is running circles around us. We know he’s targeting you personally. You are a symbol of the human resistance and the defeat of the Krys armies. I’d bet any money he’ll be looking to fight and kill you in person.”

  Taylor couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Well, you are full of good news. So this ultimate alien badass has come all this way to personally humiliate me until he can finally kill me with his own hands?”

  Jones nodded.

  It had the ring of truth about it, but Taylor did his utmost to brush it off as a far-fetched theory. A light flashed on one of the comms boxes along the wall, and Parker quickly answered. She was on the line for just a few seconds when she put the receiver down and rushed over to Taylor and Jones.

  “Enemy forces are encircling the city fast. We are ordered to get moving now!”

  Taylor looked out across the courtyard and quickly yelled at the top of his voice, “Load up. We’re outta here!”

  He immediately jumped from the edge and landed down beside the vehicle that had been prepared for him. It was an open top jeep, and with nothing but a roll cage for protection. A door gun from one of their ships had been hastily fitted on the cage. Parker climbed onto the back, and Taylor jumped into the driver’s seat. Jafar hauled himself into the passenger side. He was so tall his head stuck up above the cage. He had the same weapon across his lap as was bolted to the frame above. Taylor fired up the engine.

  “We’re not waiting?”

  “For what?” Taylor asked.

  She was surprised to see him be so eager to leave without checking on those under his command.

  “We wait for nobody. We have a duty to get out of here, and to survive to fight another day. We’re hitting the road.”

  He put his foot to the floor, and the vehicle raced out through an archway and past a line of vehicles with troops hastily boarding. Small aircraft were taking off through the base, and he wished they could be aboard one, but they had no such luck. He leaned a little towards Jafar.

  “Jones has a crazy theory that this Erdogan bastard wants to bring me down. That he wa
nts me to have my whole life torn apart, and then kill me him very self. That sound like something he would do?”

  “I have never met the Lord Erdogan. But yes.”

  Taylor was shocked and turned to look at Jafar’s face. He looked back to see a vehicle pull across their path and swerved just in time to miss it.

  “Whoa, what the hell?” Parker squealed as she held onto the roll cage.

  Taylor ignored her and asked Jafar again.

  “In all this war, a war of whole worlds, you think he wants to make me personally suffer?”

  “Yes.”

  Taylor shook his head because Jafar was being far from descriptive, and yet he quickly realised he was saying all he needed to. Taylor suddenly felt very vulnerable and more than a little uncomfortable. It was a grim feeling to know the most powerful being known to them in the universe was coming for him.

  “He’s gonna find me, isn’t he? Somehow, somewhere, not so far from now, he’s gonna find me?”

  “Yes,” replied Jafar.

  Taylor had run into most situations with the utmost confidence, even if it was foolish to do so, but now he doubted himself.

  “Make me a promise, Jafar?”

  The alien looked surprised and awaited a response.

  “Promise me that when the time finally comes, when Erdogan is standing before me and attempting to end my life, you will be beside me trying to finish this.”

  “I will,” he quickly replied.

  He seemed to show no concern and fear for the request, but it was still difficult to read his expression.

  “You think you could beat him in a fight?”

  “No.”

  Taylor smiled. “Well that’s good news.”

  Deep down it was a horrifying concept. Everyone he knew treated him as some unbeatable champion, but he knew he had beaten Karadag and Demiran with help and a lot of luck. He’d never admit it to anyone, only perhaps Eli in his weakest moments, but it weighed more heavily on him now than ever. Erdogan was a new kind of enemy on an entirely different level, and it was quickly becoming clear to them all.