Battle Earth VIII

Chapter 8

"Incoming!"

A huge pulse of light soared through the sky and struck a building no more than twenty metres along from Taylor. It burst through and struck the road behind. Screams rang out, and as he looked up, he could see a few walking wounded stumbling around. He saw five dead in the crater that was left. They were just like the pulse artillery they saw the Mech armies use. Jones looked as horrified as he did when another two pulses smashed into their positions.

"Take cover!"

He jumped into the corner of the building he had been using as a firing position and huddled into a corner with Jones as low down in the structure as they could get. They knew all they could do now was hope for the best. The ground shook all around them, and they counted several dozen impacts smash their position. Finally it was over.

"Look!" someone cried excitedly.

Taylor couldn't believe anything good could be in sight, but he got up anyway. Hundreds of craft were soaring through the sky, but they were not coming from the east.

"Those aren't UEN," Jones said, standing up beside Taylor.

Mitch lifted his rifle and zoomed in the scope for a better look.

"My God, they're British."

Jones had to see for himself.

"Can't be!"

"It better be," replied Taylor.

A wave of ground attack craft smashed the enemy positions a few clicks east, and they could just make out troops dropping into the fight after them. A dozen craft came their way and put down out in the open plain of crippled vehicles and dead troops.

"Everyone stay put!"

Several of them looked at him puzzled.

"I want to know their intentions before anyone breaks cover!"

Five troops came out of one of the copters. An officer stood between and walked confidently towards Taylor's line. It was Commander Phillips.

"Colonel Taylor!" he called.

"Yeah! What's the deal here, Sir?"

"We just joined this war. We're in this together!"

Taylor couldn't believe his luck. He’d wanted it to be true from the moment he saw the aircraft but had become wary of getting his hopes up. He stepped out from the hole in the building to greet the Commander.

"You look like hell," said Phillips.

"I'm used to it."

"I'm sorry we couldn't come in on this sooner, Colonel, but we're here now."

Jones stepped out to join them, and Phillips looked astonished.

"Well, I'll be. You came back to us? What on Earth did Taylor have to promise you to get you back in the fight?"

"It doesn't matter," he replied, "but I am back for good."

"So what now, Sir? Whose command are we under?"

"Honestly, I don't know. The United States still will not accept your position in this whole damn thing. The British elements of your unit had to go AWOL, just as you did, but I've made sure everyone who matters has turned a blind eye to that. Far as I can tell, you're an independent Regiment under the guidance of General Dupont."

The two of them were as much stunned, as they were pleased.

"Anyway," Phillips carried on, "the British Third Army is tasked with retaking the elements of Northern France under occupation. I am en route to meet with General Dupont to liaise with him in person, if you would like to join me, your whole Regiment that is. You've done enough for now. Let our boys shoulder some of the hard work."

"Gladly, but Captain Anders here has had it far worse. I request they get immediate assistance and relief."

"I'll sort it on the way and see you shortly, Gentlemen," he said, paced back aboard his copter, and it lifted off.

Taylor looked over to Anders, and rather than looking relieved she was in utter shock, having gotten a few moments of peace to reflect on the devastation.

"The fight if over for you, Captain. You did a damn fine job."

"With these losses? How can it be a fine job to have to return home with so few?"

He knew the feeling, and there was no way to make it hurt any less, so he left her to be alone with her thoughts.

"Good luck, Captain."

He hit his comms unit.

"Inter-Allied is moving out. Get the birds here ASAP."

He never thought he'd give the order. Only a half hour ago they were locked in a desperate stand to hold the city.

"With the British in the war, it'll make a hell of a difference," said Jones.

"It will, but not enough, I fear."

"You know we haven't had orders to return to Meaux?"

"Whether we have or not, we're going."

Acosta was pacing up to ask a question when blood suddenly spewed out of his neck and over Taylor’s face. A gunshot echo followed soon after, and Acosta dropped into his arms.

"Sniper!" Jones bellowed.

Taylor hauled Acosta over into the cover of the ruined building beside them and could see he was suffocating as blood gushed out. Mitch put pressure down on his neck, but the blood seemed to spill out through every gap in his fingers.

"Stay with me, Private. Stay with me!"

He coughed and spluttered. Finally, he went limp.

Taylor went white in shock, looking at the fallen marine who had barely even reached manhood. His shock turned to rage, and he wiped some of the blood off his trousers and picked up his rifle and shield.

"That bullet was coming for you," said Jones.

"I don't care!"

"Well you should!"

"I'm gonna get that son of a bitch!"

"That shot came from a klick south away, easy. That's a lot of ground to cover."

"Come with me or don't, but I won't let that fucker live."

Taylor rushed out from cover with his shield held before him and darted over the road to cross over to the next street. A bullet struck the ground just a metre from him as he did so. Jones knew he couldn't let Taylor go alone and rushed on after him.

"Everyone stay put!" he ordered as he rushed after the Colonel.

A shot struck his shield as he covered the open ground. After he got to the other side of the road, he could see Taylor had kept on running without any caution at all.

"Goddamn it, Mitch," he muttered.

He barely saw a glimmer of movement up ahead and chased on after him. He got to a corner and could see nothing at all, but he had no choice but to continue on. He ran on for a full five minutes when he felt an arm grab him by the shoulder and pull him aside. A bullet ricocheted off the wall where his head had been. He breathed a sigh of relief to see it was Taylor.

"This guy is good," said Jones.

Taylor nodded.

"He's come for you, you know that, right? Acosta took that bullet for you."

" I know," he replied, sadly.

"Seems everyone wants a piece of you these days."

"That's nothing new."

"But where did this come from? That video you put out must have really made someone mad."

"They're starting to realise I'm gonna tear the UEN down, if I have to do it with my bare hands."

"So how do you want to play this?"

"Far as I can tell, the shooter is on the ground floor in an apartment building at the end of the street. It runs down our side here."

"Ground floor?"

"I don't know why, but he must be. He's firing on a completely flat trajectory. Trouble is, there ain't no cover getting across the street to him, and it's a long way round."

"Rush him?"

"No, that's a high power rifle. Our shields will only take a few shots from that thing." He point to the buckling of Jones' where it had been struck.

"Shit," he replied.

Taylor pulled out his only smoke grenade from his webbing.

"Smoke the street."

He pulled out a flashbang.

"Then we flash, in case he's got thermal equipment. Then we rush and hope for the best."

"Sounds like a plan."

Taylor ignited the smoke and launched it out into the open street, and Jones did the same. They waited twenty seconds for it to spread and fill the area, and then Taylor launched a flash out into the smoke as far towards the building as he could. He knew the smoke would reduce the effect of the flash, but he had to hope it would be enough to a sniper looking through a scope.

The flash popped, and the sniper recoiled, his eyes burning, and he pulled the trigger. The shot went high, and Taylor knew they were in business. He rushed out from cover and sprinted across the street. Jones could barely keep up and watched his silhouette through the smoke. Taylor launched himself through the window where the sniper had been.

He crashed into the apartment like an elephant and rolled into the furniture, smashing everything in his way. He was on his feet in no time and could see the sniper trying to heave around the huge rifle to fire at him, but it wasn't quick enough. Taylor leapt at him, barging the man with his shield. The sniper hit the wall and bounced off. As he did, Taylor brought up his knee full power into the man's head. He was instantly knocked out cold.

Jones arrived just in time to see Taylor dragging him back out through the wall feet first.

"Human?"

"I wouldn't bet on it, Charlie."

"I just expected, you know, a Mech."

"A Mech sniper sent to kill me? No. They needed a man for this job, and I'm willing to bet any money, he'll ping going through our scanners."

Taylor dragged him the full klick back to the Regiment where the others were boarding the copters. He could see two of them carrying Acosta's body, along with more than ten other casualties they had taken in the bombardment.

"You got the bastard," Silva said. He was overseeing the boarding.

"Damn right."

Silva looked at him more carefully.

"I thought you would have killed him."

"No, no. He's gonna suffer much worse in time, but I want info out of this son of a bitch before then."

Taylor dragged the sniper aboard Rains’ copter. He looked less than impressed.

"He even human?" asked Rains.

"No way."

They were in the air moments later, and Jones could see the despair in Taylor's face. They had lost many friends over the years, but somehow, the loss of his youngest marine hit harder than most.

"Hell of a marine he was," said Jones.

"Damn right," replied Taylor.

Landing in Meaux, they could see it was a hive of activity, though so much of the movement was medical vehicles, personnel, and those wounded coming and going. Taylor stepped off the craft, and he turned back to Jones, handing out his orders as he walked away.

“Get them re-equipped and ready to go again within the hour, and see if Reiter has got those web rounds yet.”

“Ready? No chance,” replied Jones.

“Just do it!” Taylor snapped and continued on.

He was obviously taking Acosta’s death hard, and the success of the web rounds would keep his memory alive.

He stepped into Dupont’s war room with Acosta’s blood still splashed over his filthy armour, but despite several other officers taking offence at his attire, Dupont himself didn’t even seem to notice.

“Taylor, good work in the north. You shored up that flank just when we needed it. As you know, the British have finally come in on this war,” he said, pointing to Phillips.

“Took you some time to catch up after I left you,” said the Commander.

Taylor sighed. “Sniper tried to take me out.”

“You personally?” asked Dupont.

“I believe so. Took out of one of my boys instead. This is his blood.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Phillips replied.

“This sniper, did you talk to him?”

Taylor shook his head. “Not yet, but he’s alive.”

“A Krys agent?”

“Must be, General.”

“Only a matter of time till you got targeted, I guess,” Phillips added.

“What are my orders?”

Dupont looked confused.

“You’ve done enough for now, Colonel. Find out more about this sniper and have your people enjoy a respite.”

“Rest? General we were in combat for one day. We are ready to go back in.”

“It’s okay, Mitch,” said Phillips. “We’ll need you soon enough.”

He knew he wasn’t getting anywhere and turned and left. They were right about one thing, the sniper. Many questions still rolled around his mind about the incident, and he wanted information as much as he wanted payback. He went on through B13 to the cellblock, past Jones’ clone, and onto the next cell. Taylor stepped inside the first doorway leading to the observation room and found Rossi there with a datapad.

“Hello, Doctor.”

She jumped at the sound of his voice. She turned to speak and then looked at the dried blood on his clothing.

“Are you all right, Colonel?”

“Just fine. That bastard in there caused this blood, but it ain’t mine.”

“I am sorry to hear that, Colonel.”

He nodded in gratitude. “Please, stop calling me Colonel. You are a civilian. Call me Mitch.”

“Oh…okay.”

“Then tell me about this Krys scumbag. What have you learnt?”

She looked confused.

“What is it?”

“This man is not a Krys agent. He is not a clone.”

“What? He must be.”

“Sorry, Colonel, but as far as I can tell, he is every bit as human as we are.”

Taylor looked into the cell and studied the man more closely. He was confused by Rossi’s findings.

“This man was sent to kill me personally. Are you telling me he knew who I was, lived through the last few wars, and yet still came after me?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, Colonel.”

“Mitch.”

“Mitch. As far as we can tell, he is human.”

“And have you asked him why he came after me?”

“I am a scientist, not an interrogator.”

“Then it’s time for me to ask him some questions.”

“I wouldn’t go in there, Colonel. You are not thinking clearly and have obviously experienced some significant trauma. You should leave this to someone less… affected by his actions.”

“Dupont has asked me to find out more about this guy, and that is precisely what I intend to do.”

“Just remember that he is human, whether you like it or not. He is not a clone, not an alien.”

“I don’t give a damn what he is. He’s gonna talk.”

Taylor ripped open the door and stepped inside. The sniper has been stripped to his vest and pants and had his wounds cleaned up. He recognised Taylor instantly and showed just a little fear in his eyes.

“I am Colonel Mitch Taylor of the Inter-Allied Regiment, but you already knew that, didn’t you?” he said, taking a seat. “And don’t give me any of that name, rank, serial number shit. I’m not interested. I want to know why you did it. Why you would come after me?”

He spoke without hesitation.

“Because you are an enemy to this world. A barrier to progression and peace.”

Taylor shook his head.

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’ve been fighting for peace from day one. I want to defend this earth from invaders. What about you?”

“The Krys bring with them science and medicine like we have never known. They only want to live on this world beside humanity.”

“Well, they got a funny way of showing it. They didn’t exactly show passports on arrival and fill out visas. You can’t really believe the shit that is coming out of your mouth?”

He remained silent.

Taylor was growing tired of him already. He leapt forward and grabbed the man by his vest top and punched him on the jaw.

“Now tell me the real truth, why did you come after me?”

“Because you are an enemy of all that is good in the World. You would have us fight until no man, woman, or child still lives.”

Taylor hit him again.

“I don’t believe you. Why did you come to kill me?”

Taylor hit him once more, and as he did so, the door flung open beside him. Jones rushed in and pulled him off the prisoner.

“Mitch, what the hell are you doing?”

“Get the hell off me!” he screamed, shrugging Jones off, but he grabbed him again and pulled him out of the cell back to where Rossi was still standing. She looked at him in a new light as if she were afraid. Jones shut the door behind them so the three of them were alone.

“What in high hell is going on here?” asked Jones.

He got no answer, so turned to Rossi for one.

“The subject in that room is human, and yet the Colonel believes him to be a clone.”

Jones was as surprised as Taylor had been and was starting to understand why he had lost it.

“Human?”

“There are plenty of bad people in the World, or people with conflicting opinions to our own. There always were. Why would you assume every enemy has to be alien?”

“She’s right, you know,” added Jones. “The whole of the UEN can’t all be clones and Mechs. There must be millions of people who have bought into their way of thinking. They probably feel just as strongly as we do.”

“So what are we supposed to be trying to understand, the feelings of the aliens and their enablers now?”

“Maybe you should, Colonel. You might learn something,” said Rossi. “The question we really should be asking is, do people like the subject in their support of the UEN and alien philosophies, or have they been lied to as to the deal they’re getting?”

“Why does it matter?” Taylor spat back.

“It matters a lot. If they have been lied to and are fighting under false pretences, there is hope of winning them back yet.”

Taylor righted himself and calmed down, accepting she was talking sense.

“I always assumed they were lied to in order to fight us, why would they do so otherwise?”

“I wouldn’t like to speculate,” replied Rossi. “But I think we should leave it to trained investigators and interrogators to work with this subject and get a better understanding of what we face.”

It was an odd concept to Taylor. He’d only ever seen their situation as black and white, human and alien. To him every one who fought against them was an alien or no better than one.

“This is worse than I thought,” he muttered. “How can we get these people to see sense?”

“We may never do so.”

“So what, we just have to fight them till death or surrender?”

“Same as any war,” said Jones.

Taylor had somehow held on to the belief that the humans fighting for the UEN could be ‘converted’ and would come on board.

“That bastard killed Acosta and tried to kill me. I want him to pay.”

“But would you not do the same to the enemy?” asked Rossi. “He didn’t kill civilians. He didn’t slit your friend’s throat in the night. He fired on you in a war zone, as you were doing to his comrades.”

Taylor knew it was true, but he didn’t like hearing it.

“This was a hell of a lot easier when we only fought aliens.”

“This is why they are doing what they are doing,’ said Jones. “They’re screwing with our heads and weakening the whole of humanity in the process.”

Taylor had seen and heard enough. He turned to leave. Jones reached to grab his arm and pleaded, “Mitch, just wait a minute,” but he shrugged it off and went through the door. He stepped out of the prison block, not knowing what to do or where to go. His faith in humanity had been shattered in one single encounter. He needed air and stepped outside the complex, but even as he did so his comms unit flashed, and a message came through.

“Colonel Taylor, report to General Dupont immediately.”

He was initially annoyed to have been bothered during a moment of peace, but he then felt more than anything else he needed something to take his mind to a better place. He needed a job to do, a mission to undertake. He strode on quickly to Dupont’s war room, stepped inside, and found a serious tone overshadowed everyone gathered there. They were frantically in conversation, but Taylor could not make out the subject.

Phillips approached and his face was grim.

“What the hell’s going on?” asked Taylor.

“UEN has gotten control over the Earth Defence Grid and are threatening to turn it on all nations in support of the EA.”

“What? How did they manage it? Are there not safe measures in place to stop it being turned on Earth?”

“Yes, nobody knows how they got control of them, but they did, and they have two dozen war ships defending the grid. No way we can get near them without them opening fire.”

“So what is happening here?”

“We’re trying to come to some kind of solution, or any sensible idea really as to how we can stop them.”

“Anyone got any good ideas yet?”

Phillips shook his head. “Full on assault is the only thing so far which makes any sense, but I can’t see how it can work before half the capitol cities in the EA are vaporised, including London, now we have joined the fight.”

“You sure chose a peachy time to get involved.”

“What is the US saying?”

“Nothing yet. We’re waiting to hear their response.”

“Colonel Taylor!” yelled the General.

The room was silenced.

“I see Commander Phillips has explained the situation to you, got any ideas?”

Taylor seemed surprised.

“Come on, Taylor. You’ve successfully completed some of the most outrageous and far-fetched missions known in any of our lifetimes. Don’t be so modest. We need to stop this defence grid. How would you do it?”

The entire room was looking to him, and when he knew they were relying on him to come up with an answer to save millions of lives, he hesitated.”

“Go on, Taylor. This is right up your street,” whispered Phillips.

“General, seems to me the avenue of negotiation is closed to us. All that remains is action. I propose a direct assault on the defence grid to retake control of the weapons and ensure the safety of us all.”

His comment was met by heckles from other officers in the room.

“Let him speak!” Dupont ordered.

The room was silenced.

“Please, Colonel, enlighten us as to how you would achieve this, considering they are so heavily guarded and ready to fire within just a few minutes notice?”

“I would send an EMP up.”

“That would knock out everything up there, anything we had also, and the enemy vessels would be operational again before we could get there in any number,” Phillips replied.

“Nothing big, no, but a few small fast ships could pass through at speed undetected. Nothing more than maybe three to five craft. They’ll have to bypass visual identification or risk bringing in a wave of support. Yes, we need the EMP to appear as an accident, a malfunction of a nearby satellite. Make it appear as if we lose everything too and do not know the grid is down. We play dumb while a select few are doing the job.”

“And the German’s latest battleship, it has shielding from EMPs. Even its primary systems recover from EMPs in sixty seconds.”

“Okay, so we set a diversion also. It’s all doable.”

“And you would be the leader of such a mission?” Dupont asked.

“I would gladly do so.”

“Mmm, I know that you would, but I am not sure all our allies would agree,” he said, pointing to a US officer sitting at the table he had not previously noticed. Taylor did not recognise the woman but knew she would not be a fan of his.

She opened her mouth to speak, and he expected to hate anything that came out of it.

“Colonel Taylor may be a hero of the EA, but he is a traitor to the United States. He cannot, and will not, be trusted to carry out a mission so vital to the security of our nations.”

Everybody was silenced and turned to him for his response. He could feel the anger brewing inside his very soul, but he would not let it destroy him.

“Where was the United States when the UEN freed Mechs and gave them weapons? Where was the United States when France was invaded? I will not be lectured by an office clerk with an attitude problem. The US always should have been in this fight. I knew that from the beginning. That it has now joined only confirms I was right, and if you want to be so petty as to drag me down just to save face, shame on you.”

Everyone in the room looked to the US officer in disgust. They all secretly felt just the same. She was blushing and flustered, and did not know how to respond. She shrunk into her chair as if she wanted to find a hole and jump in it.

“You see, I am the blunt instrument needed in war, and as much as you don’t like me at times, I am a necessary pain in the ass. I’ll do this mission for you all because I can, because I will, and because you won’t find a better team for the job. When you accept that, you call me.”

With that, he turned and left. Phillips could not help but smile. Taylor walked right out and didn’t stop until he reached the hangar that was the new home of the Regiment. They were lying about with many taking a nap in the afternoon heat. Parker was the first one to notice him and acknowledge his arrival.

“Colonel is back in the house!” she yelled.

“So what’s next for us?” asked Silva. “Take on the World single-handedly?”

Many of them laughed, but Taylor raised his hand to quieten them down.

“You laugh, but it isn’t so far from the truth!”

Suddenly all attention was turned on him.

“Something big has come up, and I volunteered myself along with anyone willing to come along for the ride. I can’t give you details just yet, but what I can say is I expect General Dupont to accept my offer within the hour!”

They shouted in excitement even though they had no idea what they were getting themselves into, but they trusted Taylor no matter what. Jones stepped up to his side and was clearly concerned after seeing him with the prisoner earlier on. He took him by the shoulder and moved him a few steps out of sight from the rest of the unit.

“Sure this is a good idea, Mitch? You’ve been a little…wired recently.”

“So my faith in humanity has been rocked a little, what’s the issue?”

“That maybe taking God knows how many of us on a suicide mission when you aren’t a hundred percent isn’t smart?”

“Oh, come on. If you wanted me at a hundred percent, you should have come to me before the first invasion.”

Parker appeared at his side and took his arm to lead him away. She gave him a glass that looked like it was filled with beer, but as he drank it was hit by fizz and a lack of alcohol.

“You okay, Mitch?”

“Yeah, why does everyone keep fucking asking?”

“You know you’ve been through a lot.”

“Oh, don’t give me this shit, nothing has changed here. Shit is the same as it always has been. I haven’t changed a single bit.”

“All right, okay. I just don’t want you biting off more than you can chew.”

Taylor shook his head in disbelief.

“Don’t you lose faith in me, not now, not after all we have been through.”

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Then believe in me, like you always used to.”

He looked into her eyes and could see there was still doubt deep down.

“Please, if we’re gonna make it through any of this, I need to know you have my back every step of the way.”

She nodded in agreement, and he could see her expression change.

“Okay, I will,” she said sincerely.

He took a step back and looked at her carefully, seeing she truly meant it. He knew he had lost his stride with the sniper incident, and it was time to get back on track.

“Seriously, the whole World is in trouble. They need us at our very peak, the best we can be. We need to set aside all other shit in our lives and be what we are famous for. We are the Immortals, and that is what the World needs right now.”

She accepted all that he had said, and they sat down to enjoy whatever non-alcoholic drink she had given him. But their peaceful time didn’t last long. Just twenty minutes after laying down to rest, Dupont arrived at the hangar with a number of his staff.

“Taylor!”

The room fell silent. Mitch got up; noting the obnoxious American officer who had tried to destroy him earlier that day accompanied the General.

“Oh, please,” he said.

“It’s okay, Colonel. I have been in contact with my counterparts in the US, and despite their reservations, they have accepted you are the right man for the job.”

Taylor smiled in response and looked past the General to the female officer who tried not to make contact.

“I’ll do it…”

“Excellent.”

“However! I want an assurance from the US President himself that no charges will be made against myself or any who serve with me.”

“For what exactly?” the woman asked.

“Anything, everything,” he replied. “No charges of going AWOL, insubordination, tax evasion, whatever. I want a guarantee that we are safe from prosecution from any shit that might be levied against us. I think we deserve it.”

Dupont looked back to the American officer and expected a response. She looked pissed off but finally agreed.

“I want that documented before we leave, and then we’re good to go. I need every piece of intel we have on this defence grid. I want an EMP set to go. I want the fastest small transports available on Earth, and I want it all in the next thirty minutes. We have a job to do, a big job, and I want every chance of making it work.”

“You’ve got every resource you need, Colonel. We’re on a tight schedule here, and you know what’s at stake. Do whatever you need to.”

“Then we’re in business. Inter-Allied is at your service and good to go!”