Atlantis - Return of the Nation

by Steven Cook

  Jurian raised his shield to deflect another blow and staggered at the weight of it. The shield dropped and the Minoan facing him bellowed as it thrust the spear at his face. Defenceless he tried to recover but in his heart realised it would be too slow.

  One hundred and fifty metres away Jazzy squeezed the trigger of the Barrett, sending the .50 calibre bullet on its way to smash the Minoan from the walkway.

  Jurian, his remaining warriors and the Minoans facing them stopped stunned as the heavy bullet blasted the Minoan’s head apart.

  ‘Get down!’ Shouted Atkinson as he and the other Rangers ran up.

  Jurian looked past the Minoans and saw the Rangers approaching, strange objects held in their hands. Understanding came to him.

  ‘Down.’ He echoed Atkinson’s orders and collapsed to the ground.

  The remaining warriors followed his orders immediately and also dropped to the walkway.

  With a clear line of fire the Rangers opened up. Topper knelt and slightly raised the barrel of the M249 before sending a withering hail of fire into the massed Minoans. They stood no chance, as the Rangers started moving in.

  With brutal efficiency the Rangers shot down the Minoans. The only words spoken were the odd announcement that a magazine needed changing. The Minoan assault up the stairway stalled then fell apart as Topper reached the doorway and unloaded scathing fire down the stairwell.

  Atkinson called a weapons hold before tossing a brace of grenades after the Minoans. The muted concussions reverberated up the stairway. From his position Jazzy watched as the tattered Minoan assault party staggered from the smashed door at the base.

  ‘Brutal, get the Navy on the line. We’ve got to clear out the Minoans.’

  Atkinson looked over the outer rampart to see the milling Minoans attempting to break through the portcullis.

  Scott ‘Brutal’ Graystone the squad’s Radio Operator came up alongside Atkinson. With him was Topper.

  ‘Here you go LT.’ Brutal handed over the handset.

  Atkinson took another glance over the parapet before speaking into the radio.

  ‘Daring this is Lieutenant Atkinson of the 75th Rangers. Do you have our GPS location? Over.’

  Atkinson listened to the reply.

  ‘Daring, this is Atkinson. Your target is fifty. I repeat five zero metres East South East of my location. Please fire your first ranging shot. Over.’

  Again Atkinson listened.

  ‘OK men. Here we go.’

  Fifteen miles away the Electro-Optical Gunfire Control System on H.M.S. Daring was being provided with the required coordinates.

  ‘Sir, we are ready to shoot.’

  ‘OK, shoot a ranging round.’

  ‘Aye Aye Sir.’ The warfare specialist responded and initiated the attack.

  On the bow of the destroyer the turret of the 4.5-inch gun rotated at the same time as the barrel elevated. As soon as it reached the required configuration the required fuse information was transmitted to the round in the breech moments before it was fired.

  With a roar the shell was fired. The recoil was absorbed and the spent case was ejected to bounce off the deck, spinning up and trailing smoke before disappearing over the side of the ship to plunge into the Atlantic.

  The shell climbed at an angle approaching 45°. At the halfway point it began to descend. Like all other non-ceramic protected weapons the weapon worked just the once.

  The shell landed in the centre of the Minoan camp and exploded. Bodies and equipment were thrown high and wide by the High-Explosive round.

  On the parapet Atkinson ducked as shrapnel rattled the wall close by. He smiled as the indirect fire took its toll.

  ‘Daring, this is Atkinson. Fire at will, you are spot on target, repeat spot on target. Over’

  He turned to the squad.

  ‘Let’s go and see if we can clear out the Minoans by the gate. Topper, Brutal, you stay here and keep the Navy updated. Jazzy, you stay up here and cover us.’

  He led the remaining Rangers to the stairwell and began making his way down.

  Back on H.M.S. Daring Commander Gorton listed to the report then turned to the warfare specialist.

  ‘Well done Chris, bang on target. Fire twenty rounds.’

  ‘Aye Sir.’ He typed in the command and after a pause the main gun began firing rounds every two and a half seconds.

  These rounds didn’t have the explosive quality, but the twenty kilogram round smashing into the camp, bouncing and then tearing a bloody path caused even more panic.

  The camp dissolved into chaos as more and more shells ploughed into it. The Minoans sought shelter from the shelling but were unable to predict the impact locations.

  On the bridge of H.M.S. Daring Commander Gorton looked up as one of his navigation officers ran up.

  ‘Sir, the coastline is expanding again. Faster than before. If we stay here we will come within the field of effect.’

  Gorton made a snap decision.

  ‘Right full rudder, ahead at flank speed. Secure the main gun. Put some distance between that beach and us.’

  Water churned at the stern of the ship as she turned and made for deeper water. Slowly at first, then with a burst of speed the destroyer increased the distance to the shore. The electronic propulsion system worked at maximum efficiency, driving the ship to maximum speed within two minutes.

  In the dimly lit navigation centre the operators watched on their screens as the shoreline expanded as more and more of the island rose from the ocean.

  The tremors or the upheaval pushed a wave ahead of it. With her stern to the shore H.M.S. Daring used the current to move further out to sea and beyond bombardment range.

  *

  Atlantis Outer Wall 26th May

  The surge as the island moved was felt everywhere over the island. In Atlantis there was a brief lull in the fighting as the combatants struggled to maintain their footing. The more agile Minoans recovered first and used the distraction to push back and regain some of the distance they had lost.

  Outside the gates the stunned Minoans waited for further rounds to rain down onto them. When none appeared they slowly got to their feet and turned their attention to the gates again.

  A number charged the portcullis and grabbed the Orichalcum bars with their bare hands. Muscles bulged under their swarthy skin and the heavy gate shifted upwards a fraction. Sensing success the group of Minoans shifted their grip and heaved.

  Instead of lifting the gates the efforts of the Minoans put their hands in alignment with the purposely-sharpened edges of the bars. As the Minoans heaved again they sliced of the ends of their fingers and palms.

  As they fell back in agony, blood spurting from their digits they were pushed aside by their commander. The large Minoan looked back at the camp nearby and called to one of his subordinates.

  ‘Get the Gigantes up here.’

  The subordinate turned and ran back to the devastation of the camp. He ignored the bodies lying beneath him as he made his way to one of the remaining untouched tents. Pulling back the flap he pointed back towards the walls of Atlantis.

  ‘You are needed.’

  In the shadows of the tent a couple of large figures stirred. Slowly the Gigantes crawled head first through the opening and levered themselves to their feet. The Minoan stepped back as they stretched to their full height of over fifteen feet.

  ‘Lead on.’ The deep voice of the taller giant reverberated through the Minoans bones.

  ‘This way.’ He nervously turned and ran back to the gate.

  The two giants strode after him, causing him to increase his pace lest he be overtaken. They came to a halt before the gates.

  ‘Porphyrion, Alcyoneus, I need you to open the gates before my troops inside are overwhelmed.’

  The two Gigantes looked at the Brass Wall and the Orichalcum Portcullis. The t
aller, Porphyrion, stepped closer, grasped the portcullis with both his massive hands and gave it a trial shake.

  Obviously satisfied the giant released the gate, stepped back then lashed out with his foot. The immense blow struck the centre of the portcullis. A resounding deep ringing tone sounded out and a cloud of dust and shards of marble drifted down from the opening.

  Alcyoneus moved alongside Porphyrion and copied the action. Soon resounding gongs were blasting out with regularity as the two Gigantes kicked at the door.

  Inside the gates the fight was slowly contracting around a diminishing nucleus of Minoans. The invaders were fighting for their lives and exacting a heavy toll on the defenders. However, the Atlantian Warriors were like ants, ceaselessly throwing themselves against their enemies, regardless of the individual cost. One by one the Minoans were struck down beneath the swords and spears of the Atlantians.

  Atkinson and his half squad were at ground level, but stood away from the battle, unable to gain clear lines of fire into the throng. Instead they looked with increasing concern towards the gates.

  In addition to the sounds of the assault on the gates, an increasing amount of dust and gravel was drifting down from the surrounding stonework. A worrying dent was also growing in the Orichalcum portcullis.

  ‘At least they won’t be able to lift it up,’ said Brutal.

  ‘Let’s see if we can get an angle on whatever is doing that.’ Atkinson led the way back into the stairwell.

  The squad were half way up the stairwell when there was a resounding crash that shook the foundations of the tower. Atkinson turned to look back down at the door in time to see Cowboy lifted from his feet by a spear through his abdomen from where he was just outside the door.

  The doorway was blocked by the huge figure of a Minoan. Beatbox tried to bring the barrel of his M4 around but a large hand reached out and grabbed it, preventing it form coming to bear. As he tried to free the weapon Beatbox was too slow to react as the Minoan dragged a dagger from its belt and drove it into the Rangers throat.

  The Minoan bellowed in joy, dragging Beatbox to one side.

  ‘Pull back,’ ordered Atkinson.

  The remaining Rangers fled up the stairs to regain the ramparts where they joined Topper, Jazzy and Brutal.

  ‘What’s up?’ Asked Brutal.

  ‘They’re through the gate and making their way upstairs.’ Shouted Mud as he turned and fired a couple of bursts into the doorway.

  The Rangers raised their weapons and started retreating along the parapet. A Minoan cautiously poked his head out then lumbered onto the walkway as he saw the soldiers moving away. He was followed by more and more. Some turned and began running away along the circumference of the wall towards the next gate.

  Others moved up alongside the lead Minoan Warrior and they started advancing on the Rangers.

  Atkinson waited until a large number had congregated.

  ‘Hit ‘em lads.’

  The Rangers opened fire. The Ceramic coated rounds slammed into the Minoans at short range. Between the snaps of the 5.56mm rounds the roar of the 0.50 calibre Barrett rifle blasted out.

  The heavy round punched through several of the advancing Minoans before ricocheting off the parapet wall, screaming along the pathway and embedding itself in the base of the skull of a Minoan warrior a hundred metres away.

  The advance stalled for a moment under the concentrated fire. The Rangers paused and took the opportunity to reload.

  There was the sound of gunfire. Atkinson turned to see Brutal slowly collapse over the inner wall and pinwheel to the courtyard below, taking with him the team’s radio.

  Looking down Atkinson saw a Minoan holding Beatbox’s M4. The creature’s size made the weapon look like a toy. The Ranger officer never had chance to respond as the Minoan fired the weapon again.

  The three round burst caught Atkinson high on his chest, causing him to spin before collapsing to the parapet. As shock took over his system he heard the roar of the Minoans charging.

  *

  Atlantis Central Island 26th May

  The contingent of two hundred Minoan warriors retreated from the steady advance of the lines of the First Realm Heavy Spearmen. The lines rotated forwards in perfect synchronisation. As the first and second lines braced their spears, the third and subsequent lines moved forward between them, stabbing towards the Minoans.

  They in turn braced their spears as the lines behind rolled forward, allowing the previous second line in place to recover and rejoin the rolling manoeuvre. The Minoans faced a continuous hedge of spears that moved forward without any gaps to exploit.

  Even if a spearhead was broken another quickly replaced it. The Minoans had no chance other than to retreat. They were soon pressed back to an open area. Quickly they spread out and looked for an escape route.

  From each of the other two streets the coordinated spears herded further retreating Minoans. Soon the Minoans were hemmed in against the edge of the canal. The spearmen stopped and redressed their ranks.

  Atlas strode behind the massed spears in the company of several officers.

  ‘Is this all that remain?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes My Lord,’ said Gravioran.

  ‘Clear the island and reinforce the bridges. I want the second ring securing as soon as possible so we can link up with the outer Realms.’

  ‘Yes My Lord.’ Gravioran saluted and turned to the rows.

  ‘First Infantry advance,’ he bellowed in his best parade ground voice.

  The rows of spearmen immediately resumed their methodical advance on the Minoans. The trapped creatures realised their plight and began a frenzied counter attack. A number of them managed to knock aside the first row of spears to attack before the second and third rows singled them out and thrust them back.

  In a short time the first of the Minoans found themselves with little space to stand. With certain death in front and the depths of the canal behind they had little option.

  As the rows facing the spears were pushed back those at the back were pushed over the edge into the canal. The Minoans in the canal flailed around, trying to stay on the surface, but their dense bone structure and heavy armour dragged them down beneath the surface.

  Finally the rows of spears stopped. Gravioran stepped to the edge of the canal and looked down to the surface. There was no sign of the Minoans.

  Turning he inspected the plaza littered with the corpses of the Minoans slain by the spears. He turned to one of the officers

  ‘Make sure the Minoans are dead. Then reinforce the bridges.’

  He acknowledged the salute then turned to head in the direction Atlas had taken.

  Behind him several warriors began moving through the bodies. They stabbed each of the Minoan bodies to ensure they were dead. They were followed by pairs of orderlies who began dragging the bodies together into a large pile.

  The spearmen quickly split into detachments and formed up before double timing in different directions towards the bridges that spanned the canal separating the inner island from the second ring.

  With the inner island secured the Atlantian forces now had a secure base from which to push out and reclaim the city.

  *

  Chapter Twenty - Into The Valley

  South of Priests Hamlet 26th May

  Saraph led the small group at a fast jog along the rough path. The sun was now well past its midday peak and was descending towards the distant horizon. For the past several hours they had heard the occasional sporadic sounds of gunfire as Dingo and Coran attempted to slow down the pursuing force led by Minotaur.

  Saraph stopped on the track to let the rest of the group catch up. He motioned to Eraz.

  ‘I believe the hamlet is just beyond that rise. Check it out while the rest of us catch our breath.’

  Eraz nodded and jogged along the path, his javelin held ready in his hand.

  Finally
the rest of the group gathered around Saraph in various states. Danny collapsed to the floor, gulping in lungful after lungful of air whilst holding a painful stitch in his side. Fisher, Sophia and Wallace crouched down to ease the pain and to take on some water.

  M’Varak and Hernet exchanged amused glances at the obvious poor physical condition of the humans. M’Varak was barely registering a higher pulse rate than he normally did and Hernet’s only sign was a faint sheen of sweat on his brow, more down to his thick fur than any exertion.

  The group looked around as Eraz jogged back down the rise.

  ‘You will not like this. There are nearly two hundred Minoans camped in and around the hamlet. There is also a strange layer of dust hanging over the valley and the hamlet.’

  ‘That’ll be the debris thrown up by the warheads hitting the ground at thousands of miles an hour,’ gasped Danny.

  ‘Saraph, let’s take a closer look,’ said Fisher. Together the two officers slowly made their way up the incline.

  They stopped short of the crest, dropped to their knees and crawled a little further. Fisher held out his hand to stop Saraph in his path. Taking his binoculars from his pouch the Ranger raised himself onto his knees and looked through them.

  With his head barely raised over the crest Fisher could see down in to the valley. It didn’t take long for him to confirm Eraz’ words. He could see the bulky figures of the Minoans moving around the small gathering of dwellings two hundred metres away.

  In the centre of the hamlet he could see the inhabitants gathered. They were herded together under the watchful eyes of several Minoans. Away from the survivors Fisher could see a number of corpses, testimony that the inhabitants had not surrendered without a fight.

  Wordlessly he handed the binoculars to Saraph, who in turn looked through them. He also scanned as far in to the valley as the dust and debris would let him.

  ‘I think the valley may be blocked.’

  Fisher took back the binoculars and focused on the valley. At first look it seemed that Saraph was right. He swept his gaze back and forth until he stopped on one point.