Overlord

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Overlord Page 55

by David L. Golemon


  “What a mess,” the admiral said as he started getting the remainder of his men moving. “Sergeant, you and Haley get to the rescue stations and jettison, that’s an order. Your suits are too damaged. I’ll ingress with the assault team.”

  Carl looked around at the shaken men as he searched the wreck for the special weapons that had broken free of their restraining straps. He saw them floating toward the rear bulkhead and ordered them secured.

  “Lieutenant, get on the comm link and find out how number two shuttle is. If we’ve lost her too, we’re truly fucked.”

  “Aye, sir.” The SEAL officer hastily unstrapped after the massive explosion only three hundred feet above their shuttle bay. “Tell Jenks we’re dead in the water over here and two men short.”

  “Done. The rest of you get the special packages out of here before this entire bay breaks loose. We need cable, lots of it.”

  “Jenks reports they’re shaken and stirred but not broken, Admiral.”

  “Good, the number one shuttle must have shielded them from the main blast. Inform the master chief there’s been a change of plan. We need to hitch a ride.”

  The remaining twelve men looked at the admiral for the barest of seconds.

  “Move, damn it, before we’re vented out of the damn ship!”

  Before Carl realized it, Jason Ryan was in the open hatch, gesturing for the men to step it up.

  “Hurry, gentlemen, hurry, we have Grays docking with this wreck. We’re out of time. The rest of the Lee’s crew is evacuating. Move, move, move!”

  Jason assisted each man with their loads of weapons and ordnance from the wrecked bay of the first shuttle. He waited on Everett and assisted the big man free, then turned to help the men find added cable for their ride on the remaining shuttle. Jenks had quickly explained Everett’s makeshift plan, as they both thought along the same lines in a split second of consideration.

  “The rest of you get to number two shuttle, now!” Carl said into his internal microphone. “Duct tape those packages to your suits; we can’t afford to lose any of them.”

  The men were again shocked at the order. This was turning into a real high-tech endeavor. Another explosion rocked the stern of the Lee as three of the ion gas-mixing chambers burst and sent a high-heat energy wave outward, engulfing two saucers as they tried to dock with the flaming battleship. The men were knocked around and one of the Israeli weapons broke free of a SEAL’s grip and headed straight at Ryan’s faceplate. He batted at it and slammed to the deck in the zero gravity. He cussed and then easily tossed the two-hundred-pound yellow box back to the SEAL.

  “Try and hang onto that damn thing, okay?” The SEAL took the package and started hand over hand for the undamaged bay thirty feet away.

  Everett floated up to Ryan, tossing him a five-hundred-pound coiled cable. Ryan caught it, but the force of the blow almost sent him through the large hole that looked out onto the oxygen-fed burning superstructure.

  The minute they gained the access port to the bay Everett started unreeling the thin cable. “Hook to your backpack harnesses. We’re going space skiing.”

  Jenks was leaning out of the forward hatch of the number two shuttle with his gloved hands taking a tight grip of the frame.

  “In case you boys didn’t realize it, we have a shitload of ugly bad guys breathing down our necks. Now get hooked up and be sure you’re clear of the main engine bell and the thrusters.” He eyed Everett. “And don’t think I’ll forget you fucked up another one of my boats, Toad, you shithead!”

  The master chief vanished before the middle finger of Carl’s gloved hand shot up.

  “And to think I almost forgot what a lovely man he was.” Ryan hooked up the last Delta man to the lifeline. “Now for God’s sake, take a firm hold on the running rail of the dorsal or we’ll lose the bunch of you!” Jason slapped Everett on the top of his helmet. “Good luck, buddy.” He shot off toward the cockpit just as the inducers kicked in for the main engine.

  Everett floated to the top of the shuttle and then made sure his team was secure. He knew they had just cut their chances by half as the second shuttle would have to travel twice the distance with the same amount of fuel, and that wasn’t enough.

  Before he could think further the attitude jets started pushing attack shuttle number two toward the still-closed bay doors.

  “Goddamn it, Jenks!” he screamed. He knew the master chief was just showing off. Ten feet before the crumpled doors smashed the shuttle’s stern, the doors slowly creaked open and the shuttle was free.

  Attack element Pershing entered a kill zone of saucers.

  * * *

  The commodore was dying and Jack could see that. He and Tram lifted him to his station once more as the fifth explosion of the number three armory went up.

  “We have to cover the assault element,” Freemantle said in a barely audible whisper. “We have to order the remaining rail gun and laser cannon crews to remain at their stations.” He pushed his way along the rail toward the damage control station. He harshly shoved a dead technician away as he floated over the shorting-out computer boards. He looked closely at the computerized silhouette of the Garrison Lee. He quickly saw that they had little hope of covering the assault teams as three quarters of the giant battleship were awash with flames that blazed even in the vacuum of space. “General, order rail guns six and ten to cover the remaining shuttle.” Freemantle hopes quickly dimmed when the computer told him shuttle number one had been disabled. “We have to give those chaps all the help we can.”

  Jack pulled the commodore away and said into the command mic the orders the commodore had spoken. He felt a shattering vibration rend the ship as the two remaining rail guns opened up on the six saucers that were tracking the fast-departing shuttle. He prayed that Carl and Jason were onboard the surviving craft. Round after round of high-strength tungsten steel blasted the saucers before they knew they were being targeted.

  “Gentlemen,” Freemantle hissed through broken teeth. “Get my people clear now. The remaining gun crews will stay their post and cover the shuttle and the escape pods.”

  Collins looked around and saw that most of the bridge crew was dead or just gone, vented out through the large holes in the pressure hull. He quickly gestured for the survivors to get out. He looked at Tram and then helped the commodore back to his command station.

  “Thank you, gentlemen. I’ll be staying with my ship and crew. Tell them down below how they performed, will you?”

  “Yes, sir.” Jack and Tram looked away from the dying Englishman. He watched hundreds of six-man pods eject from their small tubes as the crew abandoned ship.

  “That’s my good chaps.” Freemantle leaned forward, unable to stay upright any longer. “Now, it’s time for you to leave the Lee. Good show, by the way.” And then Freemantle died.

  As the remainder of the bridge crew went to the escape pod underneath the battle bridge, Jack looked at Tram.

  “I don’t suppose it would do any good to tell you to get the hell out of here, would it?”

  The Vietnamese lieutenant frowned as if he didn’t understand, then tapped his helmet, pretending a short in his communications.

  “That’s what I thought, you’re just like Ryan and Mendenhall.” Jack shook his head inside his helmet. He quickly reached for the plastic laser rifle once owned by the dead SAS sergeant. “Well, let’s go and see if we can get a few of those pale-skinned bastards.”

  Tram smiled, clearly understanding that order.

  Collins looked out of the large hole in the bridge where the view screen used to be and saw the deflector plow dug deeply into the two-mile-wide saucer as smaller craft buzzed around it.

  “Feel like taking a walk out there? Maybe we can find some targets inside. After all, we put the hole in the son of a bitch.”

  Tram removed the M-14 from his back, charged the weapon, and nodded his head.

  * * *

  “Jenks, we need a place where there’s already a hole, go
t that?” Carl could swear he felt the speed of the shuttle as Ryan fired the main engine just as the two remaining rail guns took out the six saucers at their rear. The men inside the shuttle didn’t realize how close they had come to being destroyed a few seconds out, but the men hanging on for dear life had a front-row seat and stared with wide eyes at the expanding destruction around them.

  “I thought I would tell Ryan to pull into the drive thru, Toad. Of course that’s what we’re doing, we’re dropping you off at the front door of this fucking thing!”

  “I swear I’m going to kill that mean bastard if we live through this!”

  Inside Ryan was trying desperately to avoid the saucers that zipped in and out of the burning superstructure. He rammed some of the floating debris and thought for a moment he had holed the shuttle.

  “Now you get on my shit list, all right?” Jenks grimaced at the loud bang as a large chunk of destroyed saucer bounced off the nose of the small shuttlecraft.

  “Master Chief, I’ve got an idea. This big bastard doesn’t have the shielding to defend against anything this small.” Jason used the small joystick on the left-hand armrest to avoid another large chunk of steel from the Lee. He tried not to notice the hundreds of floating bodies from the Lee as he dodged them the best that he could, but still heard the occasional thump as one of the crew would bounce off the shuttle’s tiled surface.

  “Your point?” Jenks used his body to turn the shuttle as if his added weight would drive the ship farther to the left. “Damn it, do you have to hit every piece of crap in space?”

  “We use our six AMRAAMs and punch a hole in her skin right here, and then get our asses over to the hole the Lee made in her and enter from there. If we stay out here much longer we’re not going to be mistaken for floating debris.”

  “You’re the fucking pilot, what in the hell are you asking me for?”

  Ryan cursed and slammed his stick as far right as he could, praying the men attached to their roof stayed right there.

  “Firing braking jets,” Jenks called out as the shuttle approached the silvery skin of the enormous power replenishment ship. The forward thrusters fired, using up precious JP-5 fuel. Jenks shut them down even before the shuttle stopped. Still drifting forward and before they got too close, Ryan flipped up the cover for his weapons selection and hit the switch six times. Under the stubby wings of the shuttle, six large AMRAAMs slid off their rails and went straight for the saucer. The small weapons would do relatively light damage to the behemoth, but maybe it would be just enough to create the hole they needed.

  The missiles struck at one time, creating a straight line of destruction and making Ryan fearful of not concentrating the powerful conventional warheads close enough together. The resulting detonation rocked the shuttle and pushed it away from the saucer. Jason saw a thirty-five-foot hole had been blasted into the material—but the hole started to repair itself. Ryan saw the material start to scab over a foot at a time.

  “I’ll be damned,” Jenks said as he saw the first of the SEALs and Delta team start moving toward the hole. Everett was the last, using his little bit of fuel to propel himself after his team. He turned on his back and gave Ryan and Jenks a thumbs-up. For once Jenks didn’t have anything to say as he saw his old student head into the damaged section of saucer, just as the material completely covered the hole. Jenks hit the forward OHMs engines and the shuttle quickly backed away. “Good luck, Toad.”

  As Jason backed out he didn’t see the small saucer waiting for the shuttle.

  CHATO’S CRAWL, ARIZONA

  Gus, wrapped in a blanket, smiled at Matchstick as the small alien sat next to him. Denise Gilliam kept a close eye on the prospector as they neared the compound.

  Pete Golding and Charlie Ellenshaw dozed in the seat facing the trio as the large Black Hawk circled the old house and the two-story Victorian before setting down. Pete awoke and looked at Corporal DeSilva, the lone security man onboard, as he looked out the wide window. The old Marine looked troubled as the helicopter slowly started to settle.

  “What’s the matter?” Pete asked as he nudged Charlie awake.

  “Half of the compound security lighting is dark,” DeSilva said as he continued to study the grounds.

  “Partial blackout, you think?” Pete asked as Charlie leaned over and also looked at the ground far below.

  DeSilva got on his helmet mike and called to the pilot. “Get ahold of gate security or the main house and find out what the deal is. I haven’t worked with these retirees before, and I don’t know what they’re thinking.”

  The pilot nodded his head. He banked the Black Hawk into a wide turn and remained at altitude.

  “Sienna One, to Crow’s Nest, Sienna One, to Crow’s Nest, what’s the deal down there?”

  “This is Crow’s Nest, we have a power line down between here and Chato’s Crawl. We’re running on generators but expect to have the power up in fifteen, over.”

  “Look, Doc, I don’t like this.” The old corporal leaned closer to the window to study the two houses below. “Our gennies can run the two houses, the security lights, and the whole damn town if we have to.”

  Gus frowned as he listened to the men speak. Matchstick placed his long-fingered hand on Gus’s and then smiled. He then looked at Denise.

  “Look, fellas, I don’t pretend to know your business, but we have to get Gus inside pretty quick. I was against this little foray from the beginning.” Denise looked at Pete and raised her brow, asking him to overrule any security concerns. Gus was exhausted and just getting him home would do the man wonders as far as recovery went.

  Pete shook his head as he raised his glasses and looked out over the semi-dark compound. He looked from that to Gus, who laid his balding head against the padded support of the Black Hawk.

  “Ask the gate guard to show himself, DeSilva,” Pete said.

  The pilot relayed the request and as the helicopter banked once more the guard stepped from the darkened booth and waved. DeSilva sat back and cursed under his breath, then looked Gus, who wasn’t looking that well. He had the cold chills and Matchstick was staring at the Marine like it was his fault.

  “Look, I want our friends up front to stay with us until we can confirm what’s going on.” DeSilva nodded toward the pilot and the copilot of the Black Hawk.

  “Whatever you think is best, Corporal,” Pete said, relaxing somewhat.

  “Okay, take us down,” DeSilva said, not really happy with the compromise.

  The burly gate guard lowered his waving hand and then turned to the man hidden well inside the gate. The man who had been a bartender a day ago was satisfied as the Black Hawk started to settle onto the pad. He turned away from the blowing sand as he eased the shotgun free of the shack. His brother, hiding near the bodies of the six-man security team they had killed earlier, smiled as the helicopter touched down.

  Hiram Vickers watched from the darkened window of Gus’s old shack as he slowly pushed the screen door open. The taking of the compound had been too easy as the fatal flaw was quickly found in the replacing of the normal military security team. That flaw was about to cost the strange group under Nellis Air Force Base their asset.

  The tall redhead smiled as he thought of Daniel Peachtree and the now-disgraced President Giles Camden.

  21

  FIVE HUNDRED NAUTICAL MILES ABOVE ANTARCTICA

  The armada of saucers had covered the distance between Moon Gap and Earth in less than half an hour. The burning Garrison Lee was still hanging onto the huge power-replenishment ship and her superstructure was now covered in space-suited Grays as they boarded looking for anyone still alive.

  Ryan saw how big the Earth was growing in the windscreen and hurried the shuttle toward the enormous deflector plow embedded deeply in the saucer, which had already healed itself as much as the deflector plow would allow. The battleship was now attached to the large saucer. Jenks again hit the braking thrusters and was satisfied when the shuttle started to slow. Then the fuel
lines quickly ran dry as Ryan saw the fast-approaching deflector plow growing larger in the windscreen.

  “Oh, shit.”

  The shuttle first slammed into the bow of the Lee and then careened into the thick steel-reinforced plow. The shuttle slammed to a stop.

  “All hands, time to go.” Jenks blasted open the twin bay doors. As the men started to use their backpacks to get into the air, several laser shots blasted by their heads. The men slowed, as they didn’t know where the fire was coming from.

  “Damn it, they were waiting on us.” Ryan wished he had a cannon mounted on the nose of the shuttle.

  Suddenly a rail gun sprang to life, firing a single round in front of the fast-moving assault element. The tungsten round slammed into the opening of the damaged section and took out five Grays as they thought they had easy floating targets. The rail gun fell silent as a team of Grays hit the mount, blowing it into oblivion.

  The assault element entered the saucer though the giant hole created by the Lee.

  Jenks removed his helmet, forgoing the danger of a hull breach, and then popped a dead cigar stub into his mouth.

  “Well, all we can do now is wait, flyboy.”

  * * *

  Everett had lost one man as they floated through the strange interior of the large craft. The curved walls were luminescent in a soft green glow. The expanse of deck was empty, with the exception of debris that had blasted into the interior from Ryan’s AMRAAMs. As they gained a foothold, they found the farther they got from the damaged area, the more gravity they were feeling. Soon they were able to place feet on the deck and move far more rapidly. They soon found the flooring to be slimy underneath their boots. The vessel seemed to pulsing with a life of its own.

  Suddenly they were confronted by an unhelmeted Gray as the creature rounded the curvature of the corridor. The Gray reacted faster than the assault team as it raised its long staff of a weapon and fired point blank into one of the Delta team as he was caught totally unaware. The laser weapon tore a large hole into the kid and he was blown backward. Before the Gray could re-aim his clumsy weapon, Everett and three others opened fire with their seventy-five-watt laser rifles. The beams caught the Gray and neatly sliced its head and arms away as if he was cut with a butcher’s saw. Everett checked on the downed Delta man, who clearly was dead. He quickly removed the large nuke from his back, cutting easily through the duct tape, and slung it over his oxygen tanks.

 

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