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The Price of Liberty (Empire Rising Book 4)

Page 39

by D. J. Holmes


  “Are any of those buildings on the opposite bank of the river occupied?” Hawker asked Johnston.

  “I think so,” Johnston replied as he looked more closely. “The area of the city from the far bank of the river to the Council Chambers saw little fighting during the occupation. Most of the residents are still in their homes.”

  “And I imagine they are still there,” Hawker said. “The Indian forces will be using them as human shields from aerial bombardment.”

  “Our marines should be able to get into the river and cross to the permacrete wall at the other side,” Johnston said. “The river’s deep, but it’s very slow moving. Our troops will be protected from plasma fire by the water and they can scale most of the permacrete unmolested. We’ll have to give them plenty of covering fire, but they should be able to push the Indians back, they can’t have too many soldiers left over there.”

  “It would be a bloodbath,” Hawker said. “If we can capture another bridge, we will move our forces across the river there and then continue our advance. If not, we have to attack here. Let’s give Jackson and Phillips a chance to find us another bridge.”

  Johnston nodded and forced himself to wait patiently. As Jackson and Phillips moved east and west along the riverbank, the rest of Hawker’s force moved towards the river and dug in. A heavy firefight broke out as marines and Viscount heavy tanks dueled with the Indian soldiers who were dug in on the other side of the river.

  For more than five minutes the command crew in the tanks sat in silence. The only noise came from Hawker as he tapped his finger on the holo projector screen in front of him. When Lieutenant Jackson’s platoon came across a third destroyed bridge, his tapping stopped.

  “We can’t delay any longer,” he snapped. “Malhorta is no doubt using every minute we give him to pull more troops back towards the Council Chambers. Order Colonel Humphrey’s regiment to prepare to advance into the river. Move every other tank we have to the riverbank. We’re going to give them as much covering fire as we can.”

  “What about our tank?” the driver of the command tank asked as the rest of the crew followed Hawker’s orders.

  “Move us up as well,” Hawker answered.

  As the tanks rumbled forward Johnston fidgeted, he wanted out of the tank. It felt unnatural to be going into combat relying on the defenses of the heavy tank. He trusted his own two feet far more.

  “You can man the secondary plasma gun,” Hawker said as he placed a hand on Johnston shoulder. “But I still want you with me.”

  “Gladly,” Johnston said as he stood up and shuffled around Hawker to take the vacant gunner’s seat. At least I can be involved in my own defense, he thought.

  As the tank rounded a large building and the river came into view Johnston was surprised at how intense the firefight was. Despite the fact both armies had been hammering each other with plasma bolts for more than five minutes, both sides were still very much in the fight. From buildings, makeshift barricades and craters on both sides of the river, Indian soldiers and British marines kept up an incessant wave of fire.

  Nevertheless, the Indians were at a serious disadvantage. Along the British side of the river, there were eight Viscount heavy tanks and a further six light tanks maneuvering into position. The massive explosions erupting among the buildings and streets being used as cover by the Indian soldiers had to have been costing the Indians a heavy price. With a sudden vigor, Johnston focused on using his smaller plasma cannon to add to the carnage.

  “Two of Colonel Humphrey’s battalions are advancing,” one of Hawker’s technicians reported less than a minute later.

  Johnston didn’t hear Hawker’s reply, but he saw Humphrey’s marines as they charged past their comrades and jumped into the river, quickly disappearing. A marine’s combat armor gave them great advantages in terms of strength and speed over normal soldiers. However, due to their weight, they were very unwieldy in water. In this instance though, it wouldn’t matter. The marines wanted to sink to the bottom of the river so they could walk across the riverbed and rappel up the permacrete bank at the other side.

  More than twenty marines were gunned down as they charged towards the river, but the sudden appearance of nearly a thousand more targets had caught the Indians by surprise. Almost all of Humphrey’s men and women made it into the water safely. From some of the higher buildings at the other side of the river, Indian soldiers tried to fire into the water at the marines as they sank. Their fire quickly slackened as they realized their plasma bolts simply exploded as soon as they hit the water, causing clouds of steam to burst into the air.

  “I have an idea,” Johnston said, he turned away from his gun to look towards Hawker. “The wind is blowing towards the Indian positions. If we redirect the fire of our tanks’ plasma cannons onto the river we can create a cloud of steam that will cover our men as they advance.”

  “Good think...” Hawker began. His words were cut short by a sudden explosion. The eruption of noise wracked Johnston’s ears. A sudden force picked him up and flung him across the central area of the command tank. As he hit the deck a groan escaped his lips. The force of the impact driving the air from his lungs. His world continued to spin as the force of the explosion lifted the tank onto its side and rolled it over, crashing down on top of its own plasma cannon.

  Shaking his head, Johnston slowly opened his eyes. He found himself staring up at the seat he had been sitting in. Looking around to get his bearings, he moved onto his knees and reached over to hit the button to open the tank’s rear door. As light flooded in, the carnage around him became clear. Two of the technicians were lying at awkward angles suggesting they were both dead. The other three didn’t look much better. Johnston dismissed them from his mind, Hawker was his priority.

  The Lieutenant General was lying in the middle of the tank, having smashed through the holo display. Thankfully, he began to move as Johnston made his way towards him. The Lieutenant General’s combat armor had obviously protected him from any serious harm.

  “We need to get out of here,” Johnston shouted as he grabbed Hawker and dragged him out of the tank. As they were descending the ramp, another explosion tore into the command tank. A wave of flames engulfed Johnston and Hawker before the full force of the explosion hit them and flung them into the air.

  Chapter 32 – Taking Command

  Field promotions are a way of life in the Navy and the Marines.

  -Excerpt from Empire Rising, 3002 AD

  Groggily, Johnston opened his eyes. Not entirely aware of what had just happened, he rolled onto his side and looked back towards the command tank. Just as he did, a third hyper velocity missile shot across the river and destroyed what was left of it. They recognized Hawker’s tank, Johnston thought.

  Johnston pushed himself onto his knees and looked round for Hawker. When he saw him, he swore. A large slither of the command tank’s nano carbon structure had pierced the general’s back and was protruding out of his chest. The projectile had cut through the General’s combat armor as if it had been made of cloth. Johnston rushed over to the general’s side.

  “General,” Johnston said as he shook his senior commander. “Are you able to hear me?”

  When Hawker didn’t respond, Johnston reached down and flicked the emergency release button on his combat armor’s helmet. As Hawker’s facial armor slid back Johnston cursed again. A trickle of blood was flowing out of the General’s mouth and down his chin. Shaking his head, Johnston turned away from Hawker’s lifeless body. He didn’t need to check the general’s combat armor’s medical readout to know the General was dead.

  He switched his COM channel from the command tank’s channel to the commanding officer’s channel. “This is Major Johnston, I was with Lieutenant General Hawker in his command tank. We were just hit by a series of hyper velocity missiles, I’m afraid the Lieutenant General is dead.”

  “Dead? Are you sure?” Colonel Wellington, the commander of the third regiment of marines involved in the att
ack asked.

  “Yes,” Johnston said. “I’m standing beside his body now.”

  “We will have to mourn Hawker later. We need to keep attacking,” Colonel Humphrey said over the COM channel. “My men are in position to attack out of the river. Can your men give me covering fire?”

  “Give us thirty seconds and my final battalion will be in position,” Colonel Hazzard said. “I’m the senior regimental commander, I will assume command of our forces. I’ll give the order to advance momentarily.”

  “Understood,” Colonel Humphrey said

  “Agreed,” Colonel Wellington added. “I still have two battalions guarding our rear, but I’m coming up to the river with my third battalion now.”

  “Good,” Hazzard said. “We’ll need fresh troops once we cross the river.

  “Major Johnston,” Hazzard continued. “My third battalion took a lot of casualties fending off that Indian counter attack. They lost their Captain. I want you to take command of them. I’m sending you their location now. They’re dug in along the northern section of the river, ready to add to the covering fire for Humphrey’s attack.”

  “I’m on my way,” Johnston said.

  After taking one last look back at Hawker’s body, he turned and sprinted north along a street running parallel to the river. As soon as he came to the section where Hazzard had indicated his battalion was located, he grabbed the nearest marine and asked where the battalion’s senior officer was. He was guided into a nearby building where two Lieutenants stood side-by-side discussing something.

  “We don’t have time for introductions,” Johnston said over the battalion’s command COM channel, startling both Lieutenants. “Hazzard has put me in command. I want you to go and see to your men, we’re going to be engaging the Indians any moment now.”

  As both Lieutenants turned and moved in opposite directions to check on their men, Johnston looked at the marines who were within eyeshot to make sure they were ready to join the battle. Satisfied they all looked like they knew what they were doing, he switched COM channels back to the divisional command channel. “This is Major Johnston again,” he began. “Before he died, Hawker and I were talking about using our tanks’ heavy plasma cannons to create a cloud of steam to provide cover for Humphrey’s marines. It should give us an edge.”

  “Good thinking Major,” Hazzard replied after several seconds of silence. “I’ll see to it, now get back to your marines.”

  “Yes Sir,” Johnston responded as he switched COM channels again, this time so he could speak to the marines now under his command.

  “This is Major Johnston of the special forces marines,” he said. “I’ve been put in command of your battalion by Colonel Hazzard. We’re going to open up on the Indian forces on the other side of the river in twenty seconds. Just follow my lead. As soon as Humphrey’s marines secure the first line of buildings on the other side of the river we’re going after them, so get ready.”

  “Begin the attack,” Colonel Hazzard ordered.

  “Fire,” Johnston commanded over the battalion COM channel.

  To any onlookers, the ongoing battle between the British and Indian forces would have looked as if a hailstorm of fire was being exchanged across the river. As more than six hundred British marines opened up from their hiding positions, the weight of fire from the British side of the river quadrupled. The hailstorm became a deluge. Within seconds, hundreds of Indian soldiers abandoned their efforts to return fire and ducked behind cover in a desperate attempt to stay alive.

  As soon as the heads of Humphrey’s marines appeared out of the river, all along the British line, tanks fired heavy plasma bolts into the middle of the river. Clouds of steam burst into the air that were swept over the marines’ heads by the wind and towards the Indians. Despite losing sight of their targets, the British marines laying down covering fire continued to fire blindly through the steam.

  Within seconds of appearing, more than three hundred marines pulled themselves out of the river and charged across the open ground towards the Indian line of defense. Moments later, another three hundred appeared and charged behind their comrades. For more than ten seconds Johnston fired blindly through the steam, making sure to aim well above head height to avoid any friendly fire.

  “We’ve reached the buildings,” Colonel Humphrey reported over the command COM channel.

  “Let’s go,” Johnston said to his battalion. “It’s our turn to cross the river.”

  Jumping out of the second story window he had been firing from, Johnston landed on the ground and set off at a run, confident his men were behind him. He launched himself into the air and landed about half way across the river. As he hit the water his vision was momentarily blinded as water splashed around him but he quickly sank. When his feet hit the river bed, he charged towards the permacrete wall that was the far bank.

  When he got to the wall, Johnston turned to look for the rest of his battalion. The nearest marines were about ten meters behind him. He waited for them to catch up. As they gathered around him at the base of the wall, he nodded to the nearest marine before reaching up and grabbing the nano carbon rope one of Humphrey’s marines had used to scale the wall. Using all the strength his combat armor gave him, he hauled himself up the wall and out of the river.

  The scene greeting him was pure mayhem. There were about twenty meters of open space between the river’s bank and the line of buildings the Indians were defending. Scattered here and there were broken bodies of marines, their combat armor blown into chunks of scrap metal. At the base of the buildings, marines and Indian soldiers were blasting away at each other with their plasma rifles. Higher up, other Indian soldiers were leaning out of windows and holes blown in the buildings as they fired down on Humphrey’s regiment.

  Screaming a battle cry over his battalion’s COM channel, Johnston charged towards the melee. Raising his plasma rifle, he poured fire into the upper floors of the building in front of him, killing one Indian before he even realized a new threat was approaching. As soon as Johnston got close enough, he launched himself into the air. He burst through a hardened glass window on the second floor of the building. As he rolled and jumped back to his feet he spun round and came face to face with two startled Indian soldiers. Before either of them could raise their plasma rifles, Johnston used his enhanced reflexes to gun both of them down.

  As another form burst into the room through the open window Johnston reached down and helped the marine to his feet. “Clear the upper floors of these buildings,” he ordered his battalion.

  More marines flung themselves into the second floor of the building and cleared the floor of Indian soldiers. Satisfied he had won the respect of his men by leading the charge, Johnston remained stationary. He used his HUD to monitor his Lieutenants and Sergeants, giving them directions as they cleared the three buildings his battalion had assaulted.

  “Our section of the Indian defense has been cleared,” Johnston reported over the command channel as soon as the last Indian soldiers had been killed.

  “Good work,” Hazzard replied. “I’m sending new orders for your battalion now. We’re going to keep pushing, the Indians know our target is the Council Chambers. Our only chance to surprise them is with the rapid advance.”

  “Understood,” Johnston replied.

  Johnston reviewed the orders as they appeared on his HUD. Colonel Hazzard was sending his battalion and a battalion from Colonel Humphrey’s regiment to the north-west to flank the Haven Council Chambers. Hazzard clearly didn’t want general Malhorta to escape. Once he scanned the orders twice, Johnston sent them to his three Lieutenants. “Alpha company will take point, beta will watch our northern flank and I’ll hold gamma in reserve,” he ordered. “Get ready to move out, we will be continuing the attack as soon as possible.”

  As his marines descended the buildings they had cleared and gathered on the ground floor ready to advance, Johnston made his way to where gamma company was assembling. As much as he wanted to join the att
ack, he knew his position was further back giving orders.

  Johnston’s battalion moved out with the efficiency he expected from any group of marines. As alpha company charged across the street towards the next line of buildings, beta and gamma laid down covering fire on the handful of Indians who shot at his marines.

  As his battalion repeated the same maneuver time and time again, they quickly advanced towards the Council Chambers, though their assigned route had them gradually sweeping behind the Chambers.

  Johnston took a moment to check the battalion statistics. Initially, the three companies had numbered three hundred Marines. After fending off the Indian counter attack they had been reduced to two hundred and fifty. Since Johnston had taken command they lost another thirty-five, twenty of them from alpha company.

  “Hold your positions alpha company,” Johnston ordered after they cleared another series of buildings. They were now less than a kilometer from the Council Chambers. “Gamma company will take point; alpha company will become our reserve force.”

 

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