Battle Earth I

Chapter 9

“General White! Report is in from Commander Kelly!” shouted Taylor.

He blurted out his words before he’d even got through the door of the Command Centre. The Generals immediately turned towards him. Any other time they would have disciplined him for his rudeness, but they were all more anxious to hear what he had to say than to how he told them.

“Speak, Major.”

“At twenty metres, a single round hurt the Mechs bad, second and third finished it immediately!”

The Major had a broad grin on his face. He wasn’t just satisfied that he had been right about the weapons, but that it would be enough to get them distributed and put into action right away.

“That’s damn fine news, Major, good work! However, I must tell you that I have already ordered the release of all stores to be allocated to combat troops and a further mass scale production to commence immediately.”

“Sir? I thought you were waiting on the combat report?”

“For final confirmation, Major, yes. In all honesty, we didn’t have time to wait for it, and we have all come to rely on you in these past days.”

The Major gasped, realising how much responsibility lay on his shoulders.

“The United States will no longer stay out of the conflict in Europe, but our location and our allies, are best served by a direct attack on the enemy. We are about to mount the greatest assault that has been seen in generations!”

“General, the South American Union is willing to commit five thousand troops, as well as ships and aircraft to carry them,” said liaison Flores.

“I have been informed that my government will match that commitment,” said the Canadian envoy, Commander Brown.

“Thank you, then we have a great task ahead of us. We have been planning such an operation for days now. The Air Force has been carrying out almost continuous strikes against the western edge of Tartaros. Our job now is to organise a ground assault.”

“How big are we talking here, General?” asked Taylor.

“Twenty thousand men will be deployed by a combination of air and sea following the last aerial bombardment.”

“How much damage is the Air Force actually doing?” General Smith asked.

“They’re having an effect, that’s for certain. Breaches have opened up all along the monstrosity. Their casualties are high, but they’re getting the job done. Ground forces will enter through these breaches, or blow their own where necessary.”

“What kind of resistance are we expecting?” General Richards asked.

“Honestly we don’t know. The enemy is powerful and in great numbers, that’s for certain.”

“We are throwing twenty thousand men into an unknown situation?” shouted Smith.

General White looked at the man with a pained expression. He was sick of dealing with the indecisiveness of many of his senior officers.

“The fact remains that this is going to be an unknown enemy in an unknown situation for a long time. Till we either get the upper hand and some real understanding, or humanity is wiped off his planet!”

“Major Taylor! Give us your opinion!” General Richards ordered.

“The Major is not authorised to deal with command decisions!” shouted Smith.

“I want to hear the Major out. So far he has been the one constant in this time of uncertainty,” said Richards.

Taylor looked to General Richards. He had plenty to say on the situation but also knew how far he was stepping over the line by doing so. White looked at him, glad that Richards had requested his opinion. White had every confidence in the Major, but doubted the others would take him seriously in command decisions. Finally one of his peers had pushed the Major in the direction he wanted. White nodded to the Major to continue.

“Europe is getting a beating. North Africa is having it worse. We have all but lost the Moon colony, its surviving inhabitants hiding from the enemy. Safe in the Americas, not one of you can imagine the unrelenting horror that the world is facing. Way I see it, we either weigh in and fight alongside the rest of the human race, or we wait out our turn to be whipped.”

“That’s a grim picture you paint, Major,” said Richards.

Taylor pushed his chair back and stood up with a sigh. His leg joints were aching from sitting around for so long, he was not at all used to life at a desk. He walked down to the end of the table where the huge display screen showed the conflict of the world.

“Look at this, all of you. It’s not a map. It’s a document of our losses as a species. We have to join the fight. Our options are to attempt to join the forces in Europe, which are quite frankly a mess. Or, we can open a second front. Hit back at the enemy. Right now, Europe needs us. But in the coming weeks and months, we’ll need them just as much.”

Richards nodded, he hated the planned operation just as much as before, but he was beginning to accept the Major’s words. “If this is the only way, then so be it. But God help us all if it fails.”

“Thank you, Major,” said White.

Taylor went back around the desk, carefully studying their faces as he did. He knew that he would have to fight in the planned operation, just as the Generals knew, it was the overriding factor in their support of his outline of the situation. He took his seat as General White took a deep breath and continued on in a calm voice.

“There it is. We are making the best of a crappy situation, the plans have been drawn up. Major Taylor, report back to your battalion to prepare. I want marching orders sent within the next fifteen minutes to all operational commanders. Let’s get this moving!”

The Major stood and saluted to take his leave as the others continued to begin the process of amassing the resources to make the assault a reality. Taylor had no idea when they intended to carry out the mission, it was above his station. He did however know that he would be able to count in hours the time before they deployed.

The sun was already going down as he reached his battalion drill square. Trucks were lining the previously clear training zone. They were at urgent deployment status. Two men of his company stood guard outside the building with his office, many more patrolled in every direction. The men saluted as he wearily stepped through into the hallway to be greeted by Lieutenant Suarez.

“What’s the word, Major?”

Taylor didn’t respond, he only signalled for the Lieutenant to follow him into the officers’ mess. He opened the door to find it remarkably empty considering it served the entire battalion’s staff. Captain Friday was sat alone and staring at a datapad. He leapt to his feet as he saw the Major enter, but he didn’t ask the inevitable.

“Sit down, Captain.”

The two officers took a seat beside the other.

“You know that I am bound by oath to not divulge any information that was shared in command. All I can do is repeat what you already know. Be ready, be vigilant. Deployment is imminent.”

Friday nodded, but Lieutenant Suarez tried to probe further. Taylor lifted his tired head and put the officer in his place.

“You’ve done your time today. Major, get some rest,” said Friday.

Taylor nodded in agreement and gratitude to the Captain.

“Have you handed out the new weapons yet?”

“No, Sir, they still remain top secret.”

“Alright, I want the company formed up at 0700 hours on the square. Have the hardware ready for an introduction and issue.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Taylor stood up and strolled out of the room. He thought he would go right back on duty and to work, he had never appreciated quite how tiring it was to sit at a desk with the responsibility of the top commanders.

The Major barely remembered walking back to his quarters or even opening the door. Entering his apartment he sat down on the sofa to relax for just a moment. Within seconds he dropped into a deep sleep, still wearing his uniform and gun.

Hours later, Mitch’s watch alarm rang violently, snapping him out of a deep sleep. For a moment he was disorientated, not even remembering having got to the sofa or falling asleep. He reached over to his watch and clicked the alarm off. It was set for 0600 hours every morning, unless he’d turned it off the night before.

Cupping his hands around his face he stretched the skin below his eyes downwards with his fingers, trying to wake himself up. His face was rough with stubble from the lack of shaving in two days. Running a hand over his shaven head he suddenly remembered the events of the previous day. He felt like crap, like he would after a solid day of heavy drinking. In an hour he would greet his company with new equipment and likely lead them into combat soon after. He knew that he had to clean himself up, even if it was the last thing he felt like doing.

He took off his gun and stripped his clothing off, throwing it down the laundry chute. Mitch stood in his shower, dazed as the water beat down on him. He could feel his state subsiding as the fresh water cleansed his skin and finally made him wake up. He stepped out of the shower, being hit once again by the morning heat.

Air conditioning was a luxury that nobody on base was afforded. General White felt that every man should be conditioned to the heat to enable them to operate effectively in such conditions. He moved up to his mirror wiping off the condensation. Taking his electric shaver, he removed all the stubble and hair within seconds. He went over to his wardrobe and pulled out a freshly cleaned and pressed set of combats, quickly putting them on.

For a moment he felt like a new man. Having gotten almost ten hours sleep and now finally awake, he had shaken off the fatigue of the previous days. Finally he felt ready to go forward with confidence and pride. He strapped on his pistol and strode out the door. Despite not being told when they would deploy, he knew it would be that day. The Generals had been given enough time to prepare and General White was raring to go.

Taylor was rested, smart and more determined than ever. He strolled confidently to the drill square, where earlier he’d ordered his men to form up. He smiled as the square came into sight. Friday knew the Major well and had formed up the company fifteen minutes early. He called them to attention as Taylor approached.

“Stand easy!” Taylor shouted.

He paced up and down the lines inspecting the troops. He passed Sergeant Parker who gave him a playful grin that went unnoticed to all but him. It brought a warmth to his heart as he remembered who he was dealing with. D Company were not just the troops he commanded, but his family, his friends, everything he loved.

“We will shortly be receiving our marching orders! Most of you have first hand experience of the enemy, and I am sure you have brought the others up to speed. The enemy is strong. They are powerful, intimidating and alien. Don’t be fooled! They can be killed, they will be killed!”

“Oorah!” they cried.

“The most obvious deficiency in our last engagement was found in the lack of effectiveness of our weapons against the thick armour of the Mechs. It’s time for that to be resolved!”

The Major stepped up to three crates which Captain Friday had laid out ready for him in front of the troops. He lifted off the lids of each and pulled out the first weapon, holding it up for them all to see.

“This is the M97 automatic grenade launcher. You will have all seen it in the manuals. They have long been out of service due to the disarmament programmes around the world. They have already been tested against our enemy and have proven to be extremely successful. The armour piercing ammunition is effective up to around fifty metres, maybe a little more.”

The Major could see that several of the troops were looking uneasy at the range element. All of their primary armaments were effective up to a minimum of five hundred metres.

“It’s close range work for sure, but you’ll appreciate them in the field, trust me. We have about enough for one in four men. High explosive ammunition may be effective at longer ranges but we simply have no proof of that yet. You will be supplied both for now.”

He put the launcher back down into the box it had come from, reaching for the next.

“Ortiz and Campbell, next weapon is for you!”

Pulling out a hulking sniper rifle, he held it aloft with both hands. If stood against a man it would be the same height as the tallest of any marine stood on the parade ground. A monstrous magazine fed the weapon from behind the trigger in a Bullpup configuration.

“These anti-materiel rifles were built to punch through armour at a fair distance. They won’t touch the heavy tanks we now use and therefore likely not the enemy’s either. However, the armour penetration is equal to the M97s, up to four hundred metres at least. We have five of these, so I want you to select three others with high marksmanship ratings to join you.”

The company snipers looked at the vast weapons in astonishment, being over twice the size of what they had been accustomed to.

“Lastly, the ARMALs have proven to be useful on the battlefield but they don’t pack enough punch. You will still carry them, as much is in short supply. However, we have got twenty of these Aardvark devices. They are really just a bigger, meaner version of the ARMAL and will be distributed one per section. Any questions?”

“Sir, are the rest of the Corps receiving this hardware?” shouted Sergeant Silva.

“Yes, Sergeant, but not in this number. We have been given priority due to our previous experience and the nature of our unit. General White has been releasing all stores to personnel and has already put urgent operational order requests in for fresh production.”

Taylor could see the uncertainty on their faces. Most of them had seen what a struggle it was against small numbers of the creatures, open combat was a frightful thought.

“The reality is we do not have the equipment or technology we could do with to fight this war, but that has not stopped great nations from gaining victories throughout history. We are the best there is and we will give it our best shot. Any man or woman who doesn’t wish to fight should never have joined the Marine Corps. A great General once said, ‘Americans love to fight. All real Americans love the sting of battle’. He also said ‘A good plan violently executed now is better than a perfect plan executed next week’.

Taylor paced up and down the line, desperately trying to think of words to reassure his troops though he already knew he could rely on them.

“Fact remains, we will likely never have the best weapons in this war. Nor the best tanks, the best planes, the best anything. What we have is the raw determination to survive and give them hell. We will prevail, we will because the fate of our entire race depends on us!”

The Major felt the datapad device in his pocket vibrate, the sign of an urgent message from command. He pulled it out as the marines before him anxiously waited to hear what news he was receiving. Taylor looked back up with an expression of relief. All realised that the time for waiting was over.

“This is it, gentleman! Captain Friday, distribute the new weapons and ammunition! Full battle order and aboard the trucks in ten minutes!”

Captain Jones’ rifle ran dry and he dipped back down behind the wreck of a vehicle he’d been using for cover to reload his weapon. Sergeant Dubois ran up and ducked into position beside him. The driver’s wounds had been cleaned but her forehead and cheek showed deep cuts that had been sealed with spray seal. She carried a rifle she’d clearly picked up from a fallen soldier and stuffed magazines into her filthy body armour.

For a moment the Captain thought about telling her to fall back and leave them to it. It was completely against all regulations to have a wounded member of the vehicle crew joining front line infantry. Then it came to him, the realisation that the modern regulations no longer counted for much in this war. They needed every hand on deck and every weapon in action. He appreciated her courage as much as her efforts. He nodded in gratitude as she rose above the wreckage and opened fire.

As Charlie slammed in the next magazine to his rifle, he looked back at the bodies of four of his men strewn across the road behind their positions. They were just a handful of the casualties in the bloody struggle to defend the tiny patch of the city centre they still held onto. The Captain had been given command of a company that morning, but now he was almost down to a platoon size once more.

“We’re getting annihilated, Sir!” shouted Saunders.

Jones thought for a minute. He looked up to the buildings around them. His troops continued to give the enemy everything they had as the buildings were collapsing all around them. He peered back over the barricades to see ten of the Mechs advancing down the street towards them.

“Why don’t they just nuke us?”

Jones looked to his batman who was stricken but still fighting back with a bitter hatred of the enemy. Then it struck the Captain. The enemy surely had the firepower to vaporise large areas just as they did.

“They want our planet, and without us on it, Private. Think what damage our nukes do. They don’t just want to kill us, they want our lands!”

“Whatever, Sir, we need to get the fuck out of here!”

Looking back down the street he could see that Major Chandra was dashing towards him with two of her marines at her side. A huge section of wall from a nearby building smashed down and crushed one of her men, narrowly missing her before she reached the Captain.

“Jones, we just got a Dart message from Rennes! Evac is in ten, we are to get to the rooftops immediately!”

The Dart system was antiquated technology that was only kept for emergency measures. It fired a targeted message module with pinpoint accuracy, using the theory of carrier pigeons used centuries before. It was a system for when all other technology failed.

“Got that, Captain? The boats won’t hang around, if you’re not there in ten then you’re on your own!” she shouted.

The Captain nodded with a reserved sigh. He had given up hope of surviving the siege. He was still dubious as to whether they would make it out alive, but at least it was something to lift the troops’ spirits. He looked to the men around him, knowing he needed runners to relay the message.

“Saunders, you take the buildings to the east, Hughes to the west. Relay this message, evac in ten, immediate withdrawal!”

The men quickly ran off into the now derelict buildings from where the troops continued fighting from. Jones leapt up and carried on laying down fire on the Mechs approaching their position. He looked back to the few troops left along the barricade.

“Come on! Give it to them!” he balled.

The runners didn’t spare a moment in recovering their comrades from the buildings. Any fatigue was immediately forgotten as the news of their rescue spread. The remaining troops poured out, some helping their wounded comrades who had fought on through injury.

“That’s it, fall back!”

Jones took to his feet and started to move back with the rest of the troops. The barricade and wrecked vehicles provided cover for their retreat, at least until the enemy reached them. He counted the troops as they rushed back towards the centre of the crossroads. He counted thirty-eight, including Dubois.

It was doubtful that anymore than a handful were at the aid station. Jones’ fear that he had lost close to three platoons out of four was a reality he was hoping not to have to face. Reaching the square he found Major Chandra and Colonel Girard ushering troops into the two tallest buildings either side of the road.

The French armour had been entirely abandoned and the troops funnelled into the buildings in a desperate hope of escaping the fate of many of their friends. Chandra looked at Jones’ bedraggled company jogging up the street, many being assisted.

“This all that survived?” she shouted.

Charlie nodded, he could not bring himself to say it. She was as distraught as him, but quickly snapped out of it.

“Alright, Captain, get your arse up top!”

Running through into the building that was a high class fifty-storey office complex, he could see troops pouring into the twelve elevators and many more queuing to use them.

“The wounded stay for the elevators, anybody still on their own two feet takes the stairs!” he ordered.

Jones smashed through the doors of the stairs and didn’t even break stride, leaping onto the first steps. He was already breathing heavily. It was in this moment that he appreciated the gruelling training regime they’d endured on a regular basis. All hated long runs in full armour, but it had readied them for this very moment. Not only were they running from the enemy, but also they all knew they had limited time.

Finally smashing through the rooftop doors, Jones’ exhausted men were greeted by the sight of countless aircraft with troops piling aboard. An explosion erupted in the sky as an enemy ship zoomed by and blasted a troop carrier out of the sky as it lifted off. Friendly fighters rocketed by with guns blazing.

Seeing a craft land not far to their side, Jones immediately rushed towards it, despite how dead his legs felt.

“Run!” he shouted.

They clambered aboard the vessel and sat helplessly hoping that they would make it out alive. From the windows in the side of the transport they saw the alien and human fighters battling it out. They saw at least ten friendlies drop out of the sky as the pilots placed themselves between the enemy and the transports.

The ship lifted off and immediately went to full throttle, darting across the sky. Seconds later they were away from it all. Gone were the deafening sounds of battle and the death and destruction all around. Now they sat in silence, hearing nothing but the faint drone of the engines. Not one of them could think of a word to say, they merely stared at each other in a combination of despair and relief.

Once again the Major sat looking at the troops which lined the copter they were travelling aboard. Gone were the cheerful jokes and larks that had echoed through the vessel during their training mission just days before. Their training had prepared them for a full-scale war, but none of them ever expected to face it.

Their briefing had been short and rather vague compared to most training briefs. It was clear they were on a mission full of uncertainty. The Canadian and SAU forces had already embarked via sea in the middle of the night. The marine forces attacked via air in a combined operation.

Taylor knew that this mission was a test bed for future operations. The attack was not intended to gain ground, but simply to occupy it for a short time, causing as much damage as possible to the enemy and giving relief to the war in France.

Without any idea of objectives or layout of the enemy island now known as Tartaros, the human troops were being piled in to cause as much trouble as they could. The expectation was to take and hold the western beachhead for no more than a day, killing as many of the enemy as possible and setting explosives on the way out. The Major didn’t like the lack of intelligence and knowledge about their target, but knew that they had no choice but to act.

Standing up, he walked along the fuselage of the ship and up to the cockpit. He looked out between the two pilots at the monstrous alien island before them. All around them were hundreds of aircraft. Fighters, bombers and transports. Up ahead they could just make out the shapes of the sea-based craft approaching the enemy. Tracer and energy pulses flew across the sky up head as their fighters engaged the enemy.

“ETA two minutes, Sir!” shouted the pilot.

“Thank you, Lieutenant!”

The enemy’s jamming technology had already stopped all communication via radio. Taylor missed his usual flight crew. It had become tradition to fly with Rains and Perez, but he knew that they were playing just as important a role. He went back to his men.

“This is it! Remember, you were born for this! This is our chance to take the fight to them!”

The troops stood in readiness. Moments later the familiar approach began with the raising of the nose and reverse thrust. The doors opened and the Major leapt out first, followed immediately by his companions. The boosters kicked in on his suit as he approached the alien landing zone. For a moment his heart almost stopped as he could make out a Mech at the very point he was descending. Then he saw the wisp of smoke rising from its suit and realised it lay dead on the floor.

As he landed next to the fallen enemy the Major was immediately looking in all directions. Marines were landing on the deck all around him. They were dropping through the vast holes that had been blown into the roof of the structure. The large room was five metres high and mostly empty, though the roof sections that had fallen in provided substantial cover.

“Major, check this out,” said Suarez.

He pushed his way through the men to where the body of the fallen enemy lay on its back. The bombing runs must have struck the alien as its armoured suit was smashed and ripped apart. For the first time they gained a glimpse of the creature beneath the suit. The creature’s head was visible where the top of the armour had been blown off.

The head was of human size, though taller and slightly narrower. The skin was dark blue. There were features similar to a human, such as two eyes, but the nose was almost flat to the face. The structure had been disfigured by the blast and light blue blood was strewn over the skin and armour.

“That’s disgusting,” said Kwori.

“I’m sure it would have said the same thing about you, Private,” replied Taylor.

“Yeah, well this is our planet not theirs.”

“It’s a fair point. We’ve seen enough, let’s move.”

They could hear a constant drone as boots hit the metal floor for more than a kilometre in either direction as the battle continued to rage in the sky. Before they could make another step, a door lifted open at the far end of the room.

“Mechs!” shouted Baker.

The marines turned, rushing to open fire as energy pulses began to fly at them. The two enemies didn’t even get through the doorway as they were riddled with fire from much of the company. They breathed a sigh of relief for a moment. Seconds later a larger door opened further along the same wall, revealing Mechs in a ten — wide line and as deep as they could see.

“Take cover!” shouted Taylor.

Light pulses killed six of the marines before they could even reach the debris in which to hide. The room erupted into an ear splitting hail of gunfire as the troops began to fire back. Rockets and grenades smashed into the armoured aliens and blew many apart, but more followed. Taylor saw several more of his marines get hit as they returned fire.

“Keep firing!”

His voice was drowned out by the gunfire all around him, but it was the only thing he could think to say. His jaw dropped as he saw the wall in front of them fold and open, revealing lines of Mechs. Behind him the marines continued to drop in and join the fight. They had made no headway yet and were already in a meat grinder.

“My God!”

“Get the high explosive rounds in! Aardvarks, everything!”

Seconds later the room erupted into a dazzle of flashes and bursts of light as explosions broke out around the enemy attackers. Another ten marines fell and as many of the Mechs were blown apart. As Taylor watched the onslaught a pulse from an enemy weapon smashed past his head into the cover he was using, knocking him to the floor unconscious.

An hour later the Major woke up in a scattered pile of bodies. His hearing was buzzing and his eyesight blurry. He stretched out his hand and pushed to lift himself up. As his vision cleared he could make out at least forty dead marines, he’d been left for dead. Scrambling to his feet, he shook his head, trying to wake himself up.

He stood alone in the vast room. Dozens of Mechs lay dead and destroyed before his position. For a moment he thought he had been left alone on the alien hulk. His hearing began to recover and he could make out the familiar sound of rifles firing. It was a relief to know that his forces were still in the vicinity. He attempted to walk but swayed slightly, still disorientated and off balance.

Making his way through the dead marines and aliens, he headed for the gunfire. Far into the distance he could see as many as a hundred marines fighting, but taking a bend there was action far closer. Down a vast corridor he could see his own company frantically defending a wall of piled dead Mechs. He could just make out Captain Friday’s voice bellowing orders to the men.

Between him and the troops lay five more dead marines. It had been a bloody struggle to make just a few hundred metres into Tartaros. He lifted his rifle and saw that the magazine was nearly empty. He changed it as he staggered forward and began to regain his composure. As he closed in on his company’s position he could see that it led to an opening in a huge room the size of a football stadium. Two other companies were dug in and fighting hundreds of Mechs advancing from the far end.

Captain Friday turned abruptly as he caught sight of movement behind him. Realising that it was the Major he ran up to Taylor hauling him down into the defences.

“We thought you were a goner, Major!”

“Give me an update, Captain!”

“It’s as it looks, Sir! You must have been out for some time. We’re hitting them hard but they just keep coming at us!”

“Any command signals yet?”

“No, Sir!”

“This is fucked, Captain!”

“Yes, Sir!

“Have the engineers set the charges!”

“Already done, Major!”

Taylor nodded in appreciation. Friday always knew when to anticipate orders, but never overstepped his command. Over the sound of the gunfire and explosions they could just make out the piercing sound of a siren coming from their original location.

“That’s it, Captain, signal for full retreat!”

Having their communications jammed meant that they had reverted to using audio signals as commands. The Air Force had launched audio beacons into the breaches just moments before to signal the retreat. Taylor knew it would be a tough battle, but nothing like the onslaught he was seeing.

“That’s it! Fall back!”

The marines looked in surprise at hearing their leader’s voice once more. Seconds later they got to their feet and rushed with every energy to escape the bloodthirsty scene. Taylor took a few paces back into the entrance of the corridor and watched as the survivors of the company rushed past him.

He turned to look back at the defences just the second as an energy pulse smashed into Parker’s flank slamming her to the ground. Her armour was smouldering from the heat and she was lifeless.

“Eli!” he shouted.

Taylor rushed back into the open ground to her body.

“Major! Come on!” shouted Friday.

The Captain’s words were utterly ignored as Taylor reached his fallen Sergeant and the only woman he’d truly loved. He threw his rifle around to his back and hauled her onto his shoulder. He had no idea if she was even alive but he would not risk leaving her even if there was no chance of her being saved.

Light pulses smashed into the wall behind the Major as Captain Friday returned fire with his rifle, doing his best to cover him. The shock of seeing Eleanor hit had sent such adrenaline pulsing through Mitch’s body that he had found a second wind. He stormed across the floor and into the corridor.

The entire company ran with all the energy they could muster. They reached the room where they had originally breached and found the Air Force pilots had smashed new holes in the hull allowing them to land at their level. They clambered aboard gratefully. Taylor laid Parker down in the seat next to him. He was oblivious to anything as he checked to see if she was breathing.

Captain Friday was the last aboard and barked at the pilot to get in the air the second he had a foot in the door. The pilot lifted off and immediately spun the craft around speeding off westerly. Captain Friday watched as many of the other ships desperately tried to escape, many were destroyed in the process.

Pulling out his datapad, Taylor quickly checked a few details before running up to the cockpit.

“Glad you made it, Major!” shouted the pilot.

“Lieutenant, you have new orders, I want you to take us to these co-ordinates!”

He thrust the datapad forward for the pilot to see, but the man looked confused and uneasy.

“Sir, I have orders to evac you immediately back to base.”

“I have a Sergeant in there who is dying, there’s a British destroyer north of here that you can reach in half the time!”

“Sir, I have my orders.”

Taylor snatched his pistol from its holster and placed it up against the pilot’s head. He froze in shock.

“Lieutenant, this is not optional!”

Captain Friday stepped up also in shock.

“Sir, what are you doing?”

“Stay out of this, Friday!”

The Captain knew better than to interfere with Mitch. His superior had also become his friend over the years. No matter how crazy an idea was, he’d learnt to trust Taylor under any circumstances.

“Lieutenant, get us there, now!”

“Alright, alright!”

It was a relatively short journey to the British destroyer HMS Battleaxe. Everyone aboard knew that Taylor was directly contravening the orders of their command, but not one of them had the heart to stop him. The other craft carrying his company were quick to follow suit, having every confidence in their leader even without knowing his intentions.

The surviving marines of D Company dropped onto the deck of the carrier. Their pilots refused to land with them, returning as ordered to base. Of the one hundred and nine of the company who had got off the enemy island, they carried only eight wounded. They had left seventy-one marines dead in the hellish alien hulk. ‘Leave no man behind’ was an ideal they could no longer afford to adhere to.

The British Navy and Marine crew were shocked to see their American counterparts, but eager to assist. Some rushed to help the few wounded, though most stood in shock at the distressed state in which the soldiers were. Taylor carried Parker immediately to the medical bay as Captain Friday reported to the ship’s Captain who came out to greet them. The Royal Naval Captain gasped upon news that they were a company upon seeing their numbers.

Taylor burst into the doctor’s medical bay. The Doctor reeled at the sight of the fully armoured and armed marine crashing unto his impeccably clean and kept room.

“Doc, this marine needs your help right now!”