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Battle Earth IX (Book 9)

Page 16

by Nick S. Thomas

"We're still officially UEN members. The MDF may have been disbanded, but my commission still stands."

  "That's a bit of a stretch," Rains grinned.

  "Yeah, well, it worked, didn't it?"

  Morris took his seat opposite Taylor once more.

  "What were the chances of that working?" Taylor asked.

  "Do you really want to know?"

  Taylor shook his head.

  They continued on without further issue. As they made their approach for Meaux from the north, they could see smoke bellowing from parts of the base, and battles still raging on the plains. It was surreal and looked more like a scene from a movie than anything else. They had all been used to being in a battle, not looking onto it from afar.

  On approach, they were glad to be noticed this time and asked for identification and guided in to a secure landing zone. It was clear Dupont had wrestled control of the base and the surrounding area back into his hands, but none of them were under any illusions that it wasn't just a short term measure.

  Taylor had half expected Dupont to have a greeting party waiting for them to see if he had succeeded in his mission to kill Erdogan. But as they came into land, they could see that despite the number of personnel in the area, none of them were there for them.

  "You think the General is gonna be pissed?"

  "I couldn't give a damn, Eddie," replied Taylor.

  The second they had touched down, Taylor ripped open the door and made a break for Dupont’s headquarters, with Morris close beside him. They stepped inside and found Captain Grey and Lieutenant Ota standing with Dupont, discussing enemy positions. He stopped in surprise, for he had not expected to see any of his own people for some time.

  "What are you doing here?" Taylor asked.

  "Seems you're not the only one who seemingly ignores his orders when he sees fit," replied Dupont.

  "Sir, as soon as we found out where you'd gone, the entire Regiment insisted on following after you. Captain Grey returned to duty as we left and assumed command."

  "And you made no attempt to stop the Regiment coming here?"

  "No, Sir," he replied curtly.

  He couldn't complain. He needed friends right now.

  "So you didn't kill Erdogan?" Dupont asked.

  "How'd you know that?"

  "Come on, Colonel, what do you take me for?"

  "It's true. I went for help from Commander Kelly, formerly of the Moon Defence Force, and he opened my eyes a little."

  "To what exactly?"

  Taylor took in a deep breath because it was hard for him to admit.

  "To the fact we have lost Earth, and to continue on fighting is to see the end of us all."

  Dupont nodded in agreement, which surprised Taylor.

  "You've been thinking the same?"

  "Since before you left. I thought we had a chance with you, and it was worth a shot. But I never believed it would ever work."

  "Okay. Kelly believes we need to evacuate Earth, and run to fight another day."

  He was surprised at Dupont's lack of response, as if it came as no shock to him at all.

  "You already had it in mind, didn't you?"

  Dupont nodded. "After we narrowly survived the first war, we all knew then that we came close to extinction. A council of key representatives around the World laid out plans for a mass evacuation of the planet."

  "And?"

  "And certain resources were set aside, plans put into place. Of course, this was before the division of nations we have today. The UEN nations were well involved with these plans."

  "Yeah, well, not a lot we can do about that now."

  "So tell me about it."

  "It's a long story."

  "Give me the gist."

  Dupont took in a deep breath and looked around his war room. Every single one of the staff was staring at him.

  "Follow me," he said to Taylor, "Just you."

  The General led him to his private quarters, and he sat down with a groan.

  "Review boards were setup to determine how we could leave Earth. How many people we could take, how quickly it could be done, where we would go, and how we could amass the resources to make it happen."

  "Okay," replied Taylor.

  He was glad to hear a plan was in place, but he was waiting to hear the caveats.

  "Evacuating Earth is not like evacuating a city or even a country. It is an event of unimaginable magnitude. The simple fact is we never had the resources to get everyone out, not even close. Our best estimates showed we could transport fifty million people into space."

  "Fifty million? That's a tiny fraction of the World’s populace," Taylor replied in shock.

  "Yes, and that assumes no variables, such as an aggressive enemy. Many experts estimated that if we tried such as exodus under wartime conditions, as seen in the first war, we could estimate the total number of human beings that would survive and get free of the solar system to be no greater than fifteen million at best."

  Taylor's eyes widened at hearing the shocking figures.

  "That's...not acceptable."

  "You're assuming we have a choice. If we cannot win this war, we must either flee or surrender."

  "And if we did surrender? Would the human race survive?"

  "Nothing of our experience of the Krys would indicate so. They have sided with some humans so they could win this war, but what do you think will happen once they have control of the planet?"

  "So there is no hope?"

  "Oh, there is hope, just only for a minority. When these plans were drawn up, they were intended as a means of survival for the human race. That does not in any way attempt to consider the welfare of any individual or collective of people. It's a numbers game, that's all."

  "So that's what is being considered?"

  Dupont was silent.

  "You've already initiated it, haven't you?"

  Dupont took in a deep breath. "It has been clear for a couple of days that our chances here were slim."

  "And you put this into action, even before you sent me to Munich?"

  "Let's get something straight. This is not about my decision, or any other single person. This is a joint programme initiated by surviving governments and their military leaders. I brought you in here to tell you in person because you can already imagine the hysteria it will create."

  "Damn right it will."

  "And there is nothing we can do about that. The simple aim now is to save as many people as we possibly can."

  "And how are we gonna move that sort of number of people?"

  "Barges. They have been in construction for several years now at locations all around the World. They are probably the greatest kept secret of our time. Several hundred space worthy transport barges, each with a living capacity of twenty thousand souls."

  "How? Where have they been built?"

  "Most have been constructed to appear as permanent ground constructions. Many currently have large populations living within them, under the assumption they have been built for such a purpose on Earth."

  "And what, we're just expecting to take off and fly off into the distance, just like that?"

  "Allied forces will of course provide as much cover to civilian ships as possible to minimise losses. Ultimately, they can only shoot so many of us down once they become swamped."

  "That's gambling with millions of lives."

  "It's isn't really a gamble when you consider the alternative. I want you to stick around, Taylor. There are still many factors to consider in order to make this operation a success, but you keep it to yourself, okay?"

  Dupont got up and led Taylor to the door. Mitch stepped out of the room with a pale distraught face, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Morris and Grey. He carried on past them without a word. Jafar met them as they stepped out of the bunker. He was standing patiently awaiting them. Taylor patted him on the shoulder as he walked past, and the alien turned and continued on beside him.

  "I cannot protect you if I do not know where you go
," he stated.

  Taylor nodded in agreement. "The ship Erdogan came here in. You say it was famed for having jump gate capacity."

  "Yes."

  "And it was the only known ship of your people to do so?"

  "Yes."

  "Why?"

  "I do not know."

  "But you are sure it is the only one?"

  "I believe so."

  "What's going on, Colonel?" asked Grey.

  He carried on walking without saying a word. He knew Dupont had asked him to keep it all to himself, but he wasn't one for keeping things from those who he depended on to have his back. He shook his head and finally came out with it.

  "Follow me, and I'll explain everything, but it ain't pretty."

  Chapter 11

  "Sure you want to do this?"

  Jones looked up and only had to think for a few seconds before he said loudly, "Damn right!"

  "Cologne, here we come."

  The pilot had been a volunteer, and Jones had not even thought to ask a single thing about young female pilot besides check the name on her uniform; Befort, and her rank Lieutenant. She showed no fear as she guided them down towards a landing zone at an enemy base.

  "You know, just because we go in flying a white flag, doesn't mean they'll give us a free pass. They're just as likely to shoot us, Sir," said Private Wood.

  "Yeah, maybe, but we can only do what we can do."

  "I told you," said Befort, "This is an unarmed liaison ship. They will not fire on us."

  As they came into land, they could see a dozen soldiers waiting with weapons in hand.

  "Sure about that?" Evans asked, as he looked out through the cockpit.

  "What do we do?" asked Wood, "Put our weapons down?"

  "No, we came to talk under a white flag, not to surrender. Keep your weapons on you but lowered at all times," replied Jones, "Show no sign of aggression, and know that you cannot fire upon them, no matter what reason you might have. Once the firing starts we're finished, so don't let it begin."

  Jones opened the ramp of the ship and stepped out. It was no larger than that Taylor had recently travelled in, the only difference being everything worked on board. He jumped out with empty hands, though still with his sidearm on his thigh. Wood and Evans followed as he asked and kept two paces behind him.

  "You have five minutes to say what you have to say, and then you leave!" an officer shouted.

  Jones nodded in agreement. At least they're not shooting us...yet, he thought.

  "I request an audience with General Schulz!" he responded.

  "And you are?"

  "Captain Charlie Jones, Inter-Allied Regiment!"

  The name clearly meant something to the officer, and he turned to a few other soldiers sanding behind him and shared a few words before looking back to Jones.

  "You may confer with me. I am Lieutenant..."

  The man stopped as he was clearly getting a transmission through a comms device in his helmet. He seemed surprised by what he was hearing, and appeared to argue with whoever was on the line for a moment before going silent and looking back to Jones.

  "The General...will be with you momentarily...please stay where you are!"

  Jones nodded in agreement. "Thank you, Lieutenant!"

  He turned around and looked back at the two Privates behind him. They watched the German forces around them like hawks, although they all knew they were powerless to defend themselves.

  "Sure this is a good idea, Sir?" asked Wood.

  "Not really, but we'll all out of options."

  "Why would he help us, Sir?"

  "Because he isn't an evil man, Evans. He's fallen on the wrong side in this fight, but he hasn't always been the enemy."

  "You're clutching at straws a bit, aren't you?"

  "Oh, yeah," replied Jones without hesitation.

  They waited for five minutes without speaking another word. Finally, they could hear a vehicle approaching, and they turned to see an armoured officers’ command car rolling towards them.

  "Stay where you are, and make no attempt to raise your weapons!" the Lieutenant said firmly.

  The vehicle came to a halt, and Schulz stepped out with two other officers. One was already whispering in his ear before the door of the vehicle was shut, and it was all too clear that the man did not like Jones or his presence. But more than that, he appeared to be underhand and conniving in his actions. Jones could see he would be a thorn in their side.

  Schulz had bags under his eyes. His skin was pale and his hair thinner than when they had last met. It wasn't just age that had weathered him; he had the look of a man suffering under a great burden. Jones saluted him as he approached, and Schulz smiled and returned the greeting before coming to a stop before him.

  "Captain Jones. I wish we could meet under better circumstances, although I am glad to see you are well."

  His voice was friendly and sounded genuine and honest.

  This is not a man actively working for the enemy, Jones thought.

  "What can I do for you?" he asked.

  It was an odd scenario, as the General appeared to address him as a friend.

  "Sir, I am searching for my wife. She was taken by clandestine forces with the UEN from a military hospital in Meaux."

  "I am sorry to hear that, Captain. It sounds a most bizarre situation. Are you sure those are the facts?"

  "I am," growled Jones, "I saw it with my own eyes."

  "I can honestly say that it had nothing to do with those under my command. I would never give such an order, or knowingly let such a thing happen. There are rules in war as there are in peace."

  It was the most friendly and amenable Jones had ever seen the General.

  "My sympathies, Captain, but I am not sure how I can help."

  "Sir, the craft she was taken away on we tracked to this base. From here on, we have no idea where she was taken, but I beg of you to pursue this and find her for me."

  One of the officers beside the General leaned in and spoke in his ear. It was the same dubious character Jones had previously disliked. He knew he was going to be a problem from the moment he first saw him. The General began to respond but was interrupted by the man's whispering once more.

  "I am sorry, Captain, but we have no records of any such craft having arrived...and there is nothing more I can do."

  "Excuse me, Sir, but that's bullshit and you know it. This is your base. This is your army, and this is on your conscience, should you refuse to help."

  The man who had been whispering beside the General finally stepped forward. He was in his early forties and slight. He appeared to have an eternal sleazy smile across his face that stank of an untrustworthy character. He wore the uniform of a Major, but he did not carry himself like an officer, more a politician.

  “Excuse me, Captain,” he interrupted before Schulz could continue, “but the General does not owe you any favours. We are not aware of your wife’s location, nor do we have any duty to assist you in finding her. She is, after all, an enemy combatant. In fact, we should rightly have you detained, right now.”

  Jones was disgusted by his comments.

  “You’re a wretched excuse for a man,” he replied, “We came here under a flag of truce.”

  “And yet I see no flag,” he replied with a wicked smile.

  Jones could already tell the situation was going south. The Major was clearly either an alien agent or a heavily indoctrinated sympathiser. Taylor turned his attention back to Schulz, whom he appeared to be making some headway with.

  “Sir, I please ask you again. You are the only man I can turn to for help now. Forces within your control are holding my wife or know who is. Will you help me?”

  “You have thirty seconds to get back aboard your ship, and get out of here before I have you arrested,” the Major replied for him.

  Schulz dipped his head in shame. Jones could see he was disillusioned and did not know how to respond to his predicament. Jones had to keep pressing him.


  “General, Sir. Will you let this go on, the butchering of the human race? Will you continue to be controlled by the enemy?”

  He knew he was pushing his luck now, but he refused to give up.

  “Twenty seconds,” the Major continued.

  “You know this is not the way. Fighting alongside the Krys and letting them invade and conquer our planet. You have seen what they are capable of.”

  “Ten seconds, Captain.”

  The Major looked around and waved his hands to usher the troops in and to raise their weapons, which they did reluctantly.

  “You have five seconds, Captain.”

  Jones could see he wanted nothing more for them to twitch or make a single inclination of resistance.

  “Three, two…”

  “Stand down!” Schulz suddenly yelled.

  The Major was stunned and looked at him with wide eyes.

  “Sir, these are enemy combatants. They probably mean to assassinate you and inform the enemy of vital base information.”

  “Shut up!” he bellowed.

  The General seemed to stand a little taller and a regal presence returned to his posture.

  “We cannot help these men!” argued the Major, “They should be killed where they stand!” he screamed.

  With that, the General pulled out his sidearm and fired a single shot into the man’s head that killed him instantly. His body slumped to the floor, and despite the shock of seeing it, not one of the soldiers reacted. He turned around and walked along the line of his own people.

  “That man was a spy, an alien agent. We know they’re among us. We all have for a long time. It’s time we stood up to them and did what’s right. Does anyone have a problem with that?”

  They shook their heads. He looked to the other officer who had arrived with him, a younger man who looked most shocked by what he had witnessed.

  “Lieutenant, find this ship that took Captain Jones’ wife. Find out who took her, when they arrived here, and where she is now.”

  The man nodded uneasily.

  “Now!”

  The officer snapped into action, rushing back into the vehicle to sit at a console and get to work.

  "I thought we were doing the right thing!" Schulz said quietly, "I thought we were doing the best thing for all of us. But the more time goes by, the more the Krys reveal their hand, and I am losing hope for us all."

 

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