Battle Earth IV (11 page)

The Drum Major lifted his baton, and the band’s silence was broken as the brass and drums rang out around them. Chandra turned to see a motorcade approaching with French armoured vehicles at the forefront. Every vehicle proudly flew the French
tricolor in a colourful entrance. She turned and looked in astonishment at the absurdity of the event.

Within a fifty metre radius was nothing but an impeccable parade display, but it was just one pocket of perfection amongst the ruins of the city that lay all around them. Beyond that lay massive cranes stretching up into the skyline. Only two buildings over five storeys high had survived the brutal struggle for the city, and they could see for kilometres.

Taylor caught sight of Chandra turning as she marvelled at the sights around them. They both knew they had been there before, but it was hard to recognise much of the city any longer. Chandra drew the Company to attention as the vehicles drew near, and they watched as the cheery President waved from his car.

On one hand, Taylor felt sorry for the French leader for having lost so much of his country, but on the other hand, he looked at the man’s impeccable clothing and well fed stomach and scowled at how little he had put into the war. Chandra could see the look of disgust on his face and strolled over to whisper beside him.

“Major, I know you’re not one for authority, but let’s not fuck this up, you hear?”

“He’s gonna stand there and talk about our shared struggle to free these lands. What did he ever do?” snapped Taylor.

“We all have our part in this, not all of it is holding a rifle and fighting on the frontline,” she replied.

He nodded in agreement and could feel some of the anger seep away.

“I’m just sick of it all, those bastards, Schulz and Dupont. They toss us about as assets, and then want to take all the glory.”

“Hey, this here is for us, don’t you forget that. The President has a responsibility to the people of this country, and he is clearly fulfilling that. Cut the man some slack, you have no idea what his part was in this war.”

Chandra saluted as the car drew to a halt and watched as President Moreau leapt out and up towards the podium. The two Majors stared in astonishment for a moment. They had never met the French President, but they knew from news feeds that he was a much older man than the one who was about to address them. Commander Phillips approached them in full number one dress.

“Sir, that, that isn’t the President,” stated Chandra.

“It is now, Major. President Moreau passed away a week ago from a heart attack. The government decided in the interest of the people that his son should take over to allow the population to have someone they can relate to.”

“That ain’t very democratic,” replied Taylor from the sideline.

Chandra turned and smiled to see that Mitch had crept closer to listen in.

“No, but what else were they to do? Not like they could start an e-vote and have it done by the weekend. Communications in this country are still an utter shambles.”

“What’s he like, this new President?”

“Driven. He’s a high roller and vicious to boot. He’s got balls and has no problem walking over people to get ahead.”

“Sounds about right,” replied Taylor.

“But maybe not the right man for the job. These people need somebody with empathy. Somebody who can hold them together, not drive them apart,” whispered Chandra.

“I’d hold your tongue, Major,” replied Phillips. “We’re soldiers, not politicians. The two don’t mix well.”

They fell silent as Moreau stepped up to the podium, without introduction from the speaker who stepped aside speechless. The President lifted his hand, and the band quickly faded off into silence. He looked out across the lines of British and American soldiers and to the civilians who had gathered for the ceremony. Only a hundred Parisians had turned out for the event, but many soldiers from European armies were scattered amongst them.

“Men and Women of France, and of the world, we gather here among the ruins of our fine capital city not to mourn our losses, but to celebrate our victories! The soldiers of the Second Inter-Allied Company have served the world and given everything they had to make this land free!”

Whistles and clapping burst out from the audience, but Taylor felt nothing. He didn’t ask for any praise for what they had done. He didn’t want any medals or awards. He turned back to look at Eli’s face. As he glanced at her with wide eyes, she noticed and turned to meet his. She smiled before turning as she blushed. The President lifted up his hand again and nodded in acknowledgement, as if he himself were being applauded for the victory.

“It is my pleasure and honour to reveal this monument to the world. It stands as an eternal reminder of the sacrifices made by these fine men and women.”

He pointed for the men waiting on the ropes next to the covered monument that stood ten metres high. The soft cloth rolled off the hard stone, and they looked in awe at what lay beneath. The base was of a thick stone column and atop it was a character stood with one foot on the body of a fallen alien. Taylor instantly recognised that it was a homage to his defeat over Karadag. The statue of him was thrusting an Assegai into the air triumphantly.

“St George slaying the Dragon,” whispered Chandra.

“What?” asked Taylor who was still in a daze.

“That’s what you have become, the people’s hero. That’s you.”

Taylor went silent. He was humbled by the towering figure of himself. Clapping rang out from the Company behind them and was soon joined by everyone in attendance. He turned to see the troops were alive with excitement, but he could not help feel that it did them an injustice.

“Why’ve they got to choose me? Any soldier who fought in this war has reason to be up there.”

Chandra laughed. “People need something positive to hang on to. It’s a David and Goliath story which is symbolic of our entire struggle.”

“I never wanted to be on no statue,” he snapped.

“It’s not about you, Mitch. People need hope, and you just happened to have become the poster boy. Let them have this, they need it.”

He turned and looked back at the imposing figure of himself towering over them all.

Is this what I am destined to be? A celebrity?
He asked himself.

The day continued with the same surreal display of celebrations. Lights and music blared out, but Taylor could not help but look away into the desolate wasteland of the city. He felt overwhelmed by it all. It was too soon to be celebrating among the ruins that were the final resting place of so many fellow soldiers. Taylor’s ears suddenly twitched as he heard the ring of a communicator nearby. He turned to see Phillips pull out the device from his pocket.

“Excuse me, Gentlemen,” he said as he turned away and took a few paces to answer the call. Taylor watched intently as he could see the Commander’s face turn from the pleasant festivities to the calculating officer he had been throughout the conflict. He spoke for little over a minute before quickly pushing his way to the podium. Taylor tapped Chandra’s shoulders and pointed to the commotion.

“Guess that’ll be for us then,” she mused.

The Commander reached the centre podium and leaned in to mutter a few words to the President before stepping forward with a megaphone in one hand.

“Can I have your attention, please!” called Phillips.

The loudhailer spread for miles out across the open desolate ground.

“The Second Inter-Allied command staff are to report immediately to me at HQ. The rest of the Company is to gear up and assemble at landing zone alpha in thirty minutes. Transport is en route. Get moving!”

Sighs rang out among the ranks as they quickly broke formation and headed for the convoy of trucks trundling towards them.

“My sincerest apologies to President Moreau and everyone else who has made it here today. On behalf of the Company, I’d like to thank you all for your tremendous support, and the manner in which you have honoured the fine men and women of the Inter-Allied today. Thank you and good luck with your continuing efforts.”

The Commander turned and whispered a few words to the President, shook his hand, and leapt from the podium. Taylor and Chandra were awaiting him with Jones rapidly approaching. The Commander pointed for them to follow as he rushed past them.

“What’s going on, Sir?” insisted Chandra.

“I don’t have much yet. All I know is there is a situation which your team is being requested for.”

“Sounds ominous,” she replied.

“If it wasn’t, they’d not be calling for you.”

“Always we land in the shit,” muttered Taylor.

“You said it, Major. In the shit situations is where you have proven to excel, so get used to them.”

Taylor laughed at the notion.

* * *

Phillips quickly scanned the information as Taylor and Chandra stood calmly before him. He shook his head as he read further and finally looked up with a sigh.

“Time is not on our side here, so I’m going to be brief. Not like I have a wealth of information to pass on anyway. There is an ongoing incident here, in Dijon.”

He pointed to the city that they could see was around three hundred kilometres southeast of Paris. Yet more ground they were utterly unfamiliar with.

“Police who were returning to the area found one of their precincts occupied by remaining enemy forces. Along with members of the
Gendarmerie, they have surrounded the complex and initiated a siege.”

“Then why do they need us?” asked Chandra.

“This is more than they can handle, Major. After the terror attacks fifty years ago, many such buildings were reinforced as protection from bombs and high explosive projectile launchers.”

“And I’m guessing they didn’t stay to defend these fortresses during the war?” snapped Taylor.

“That’s just the thing.”

“Ah, great,” whispered Chandra.

“When the mass hysteria set in, and the roads turned to shit, many key members of the local authorities took shelter in a bunker built beneath the city, along with anyone too frail to make it the distance. As far as we know, they’re still down there. We can’t bomb this building, as we simply have no idea what it’d be willing to withstand.”

The door to the HQ room burst open. They quickly turned to see Captain Jones in full combat attire with the two Majors’ equipment hanging from each arm.

“We’re ready to move,” he stated.

Chandra grasped her gear from Jones. The immense weight that included the exo suit hulked to the ground with a resounded crash. She turned back to Phillips as she began to gear up.

“Anything else? Enemy strength? Casualties?”

“Sorry. The emergency distress call was cut off in what is reminiscent of the jamming we saw during the war. Local forces say they have surrounded the facility but had sustained casualties and were unable to make progress.”

“Great, we’re going in almost blind,” she replied.

“You should be used to it by now,” said Taylor.

Chandra nodded as she gritted her teeth. It wasn’t a helpful comment, but it didn’t make it any less true. She turned to Jones and quickly snapped out her orders.

“Be ready for lift off the second we reach you.”

Charlie nodded and quickly rushed out of the room to make final preparations. She looked back to Taylor and could see that he was equally as unimpressed with their intelligence and going into yet another blind operation.

“Commander, we may punch above our weight, but what happens if we come across enemy resistance beyond the stragglers we have seen so far? With no intelligence and restrictions in our air support, we could be left to die.”

“I won’t let that happen, Major.” He paced a few steps but turned back.

“The truth is this country is a God damn mess. They’re too few troops and workers to get everything done. Now that the war’s over, few are interested, and many are stuck trying to rebuild their own countries. The only reason you and me are here is because the UK remained relatively untouched by the whole affair.”

“We’re not the only team like this, are we?” asked Taylor.