Battle Earth VIII (Book 8) (2 page)

Taylor shook his head and looked at the wreck of the armoured vehicle that had reached the farthest point. It was just twenty metres from where he stood. As he began to pace towards it, the pitch and volume of the Captain's voice increased, but he ignored them. Jafar followed out of curiosity. They both had to navigate through a trail of bodies. When he reached the vehicle, Taylor felt a large hand grasp his ankle. He looked down in horror to see a Mech clinging to life and still trying to fight.

The creature tried to pull him off his feet, but a gunshot cracked behind him finished the creature for good. Taylor turned and nodded in gratitude to Jafar who had responded with lightning reactions, and he could see Grey was now out the trench and close behind them.

"This isn't safe," he stated.

"Relax, Captain."

"I'll relax when we're not standing in no man's land in full view of anyone who wants to blow our heads off."

"Where's that British resolve and confidence?"

"I'm confident in the defence of our trenches," he muttered.

Taylor ignored him and carried on to the twisted wreck of the vehicle. It was a medium tracked main battle tank he was plenty familiar with. Seeing the wicked damage on one of what used to be one of their own was a painful reminder of the battle for Brest when it had all begun. Ammunition had poured out through a gaping hole in the side, but the wet rack had stopped it from exploding. Smoke bellowed from the commander’s hatch, and the driver's hatch was nowhere to be seen. It had most likely been blown clear.

The smell was acrid and as even more unpleasant than he had remembered it. A mix of burning metal with scorched electrical systems. All of that with the smell of burning grass where it still kindled. He stepped up to the tank, expecting to see the remains of a driver, but as he leapt atop the vehicle he stopped, surprised when he found the driver's compartment filled with electronics that were now all but destroyed.

"What is it?" asked Grey.

"That's why they came at us till the very end. There's no one driving 'em."

Grey looked confused and jumped up onto the hull to see for himself. Taylor could see he knew exactly what he was looking at, and it was starting to make sense.

"Remotely driven armoured fighting vehicles, not ever seen them in my life time," he stated. "They were banned by most nations over a century ago."

"Yeah, well I guess the rules went out the window some time back," he replied.

"Begs the question what else they'll be willing to throw at us?"

As he said it, a missile trail soared towards them.

"You spoke to soon!" yelled Taylor. They both leapt from the wreck, and the missile struck the turret. The explosion was near deafening as debris flew over them. Taylor looked back up to see specs in the sky closing in on them like a flock of birds. The ground rippled around them as automatic fire rained down on them.

"Cover!"

Taylor rushed to his feet and sprinted for the trench, gunfire erupting all around them. A bullet ricocheted off his shoulder armour and clipped his cheek and chin, cutting it badly as he rolled into the trench beside his comrades. They were already returning fire. He reached for his rifle, which was just where it had been left when he was tossed out of the trench, and slammed in a new magazine as quickly as could be managed.

As he took aim, he could see what was coming at them now, six rotor mini drone copters with an array of weaponry. They appeared to have little armour but were small and fast enough to be far from easy to hit. He squeezed the trigger, and the first shot went between two of the rotors and found no target. He followed it with a three-shot burst, and when one of the shots hit the hull of the drone, it dropped out of the sky. He lifted up his arms to protect himself as it dropped and smashed over his arms and helmet, along with several others that had been hit. As he got back up, he could see the body of a fallen man beside him. He grabbed the man's shield and took it as his own for cover.

He looked up from the shelter of the shield and could see dozens of drones circling them like vultures. Their trench provided no cover at all from the aerial attackers.

"We need to move!"

"No shit, Captain!" he replied. He looked up over the trench. The whole line was under attack in a similar fashion, and out in the distance a new wave of armoured vehicles was approaching.

"Fall back, back to the town!" he yelled down the comms.

He was the first out the trench with his shield held high as it took impacts. He looked back for just a second to be certain the rest of his unit were following suit. As he turned back to watch where he was going, one of the drones swooped in low so that it was level with his head. He lowered his shield and quickened his pace. A few light impacts glanced off his shield, but then he felt a larger one as he smashed into the drone, and it was thrown underfoot.

He kept up the pace to get further into the buildings of the town that were rather more intact than the outer areas they had left. He could see an old bank up ahead with thick walls and rushed for the door that was halfway off its sliding mechanism. A dozen or more of the Regiment rushed through with Silva last through the door. Parker was nowhere to be seen, but he had to hope she had made it to safety.

 
Taylor looked up, relieved to see the floor above were fortunately still solid. He turned back to peer through one of the windows and caught sight of several drones hot on the trail of some of his unit. One was holding his shield back to cover them the best he could, but shots were landing all around their position. Taylor rushed back to the half open door, took quick aim, and fired a burst at the cluster of drones.

One burst into flames and smashed down into the ground. The others banked sharply and came for him, but now they were right where he wanted them. They could only approach head on in the narrow corridor of attack he had left them. He held his shield firmly before him and his rifle at its side, using his helmet targeting to remain safe.

The shield absorbed a few shots while he blasted the drones out of the sky. As the last one fell, it launched another missile that smashed into the centre of his shield. The impact launched him into the building more than ten metres where he hit a support beam with his back and then crumpled to the ground. Mitch blacked out for just a few seconds as he landed and then turned to see Silva reaching for him. He coughed and spluttered; his lungs were filled with dust that had gathered on the floors of the abandoned bank.

His mouth was drier than ever now and coated in a thick layer of dirt and soot, making his voice coarse and husky. His head pounded, and he wanted nothing more than to rip his helmet off. He could feel his brain throbbing, and his skull dripping in sweat that now lined the helmet.

"You got a thing for acrobatics, Colonel. Should have joined the air force," said Silva.

"That's a big help," Taylor groaned.

Silva helped him to his feet, and he looked up. The half open doorway was now just a gaping hole and with no door of any kind in sight. A small fire had started beside it where the interior had ignited, and several of their unit were trying to put it out. It had quietened down outside now with only infrequent gunfire.

"Those things were banned under the Graz Convention a long time ago," he stated.

"Yeah, well I guess no one told the Germans."

"I still don't understand why they're fighting us, Sir," said Acosta.

Taylor barely knew the Private who had come over with Silva but had never seen combat with any of them, being too young to have fought in the last war.

"They are probably thinking just the same about us," replied Taylor.

"Yeah, well it ain't them getting invaded, is it?"

Taylor knew he had been an aggressor in their land before this had happened, but he couldn't bring himself to try and explain it to the young Private who was eager and loyal, but far from smart. Silva leaned in close to the Colonel.

"Why is it we always end up slap bang in the middle of the action, no matter where it might be?" he whispered.

Taylor smiled in response. "Because that's our purpose in life."

They heard a rustle of steps and raised their weapons in readiness, but were met by Sergeant Parker who rushed in through the doorway. Her face was cut in several places from debris, but she looked happy to have found them all.

"Well that's new," she gasped.

"Indeed, but I doubt it'll be the first surprise we see from the UEN," replied Taylor. "You heard from Dupont yet if we're getting the support we need?"

"Yes, Sir, that and more. Two divisions are deploying to the area presently. We are to redeploy to Meaux immediately."

"Meaux? Christ, that'll take us out of this war."

"I spoke to the General personally, Sir. Sounds like they've made some progress in regard to the Krys agents and want you there."

"And so they order the whole Regiment back?"

"Come on, Colonel," added Silva. "We're two hundred strong, might as well be your personal bodyguards. Hell you need it."

He looked around to see the news sat well with all who heard it.

"These two divisions, they’re actually here?" he asked.

"Ten klicks out and with plenty of armour," replied Parker.

"And our ride out of here?"

"Already put down half a klick west and awaiting us."

"Then we wait till relieved. I ain't giving ground just to save a few minutes."

"The General was quite adamant that we were to redeploy immediately."

"Yeah, well he ain't here," replied Taylor dryly.

He tapped on his comms unit. "Everyone, stay put and keep a keen eye. And tell Captain Grey he's got time to brew up."

Several of the marines around him smiled.

"Acosta, gather up three of those drones as complete as you can find. I want to take 'em back for Reiter."

"He still working with us?" asked Silva.

"Bet your ass he is. We lost too many to these things, but it could have been a lot worse. I want to make sure next time we encounter them, they do not cause us so much trouble. Reiter will have a way."

"Hell, all you need is nets," said Acosta.

Taylor turned in surprise to hear the Private speak out and inject into their conversation. At first he took offence at it, but was then keen to hear what he had to say.

"Go on..."

"Those drones are hard for us to hit with a rifle round, Sir, but they ain't all that tough. Fire a net up, and you'll take them down easy."

"Where's this coming from?" asked Silva.

"When my daddy used to go fishing, he didn't harpoon each fish one at a time, he cast a net and made the job easy."

"Nets? Sure you don't mean your granddaddy?" jested Silva.

"He learnt with his pops and his before him, okay. He liked it that way."

"All right, all right," interrupted Taylor. "It's not a half bad idea. You can take it to Reiter when we get back."

"Me? No, Sir, I was just passing it on to you."

"You have a good idea, Private, then you better be prepared to act on it."

"Yes, Sir," he muttered nervously.

"We've got an armoured column coming up the road!" shouted one of the troops on guard outside.

Taylor lifted his comms. "Grey, cancel that brew. We're moving out!"

He took a little amusement in knowing just how the Captain's face would look at that moment before heading for the door. The first sight that struck him was that of five bodies of fallen comrades. They were loaded onto mechanical mules ready to move, and several others wounded beside them. Mitch wanted to tell them they were going home, but they no longer had one.

"To the boats, lets go!"

It was a short journey back to Meaux and an unexpected one at that. Ever since signing up with the European Alliance, they had been at the forefront of the conflict, which until recently had not erupted into total war. Many had been pondering over the frightening thought of nuclear powers facing off against each other once again. All knew from their schooling that such an event could be as potentially cataclysmic as the alien invasion they had lived through. But nobody would ask it openly, not until Acosta and his big mouth was sitting opposite the Colonel.

"Sir, why are we sitting by while we got nukes ready to use?"

Several others shook their heads but still listened in intently. They wanted answers as much as the inquisitive Private did.

"Because we're fighting a nuclear power, and using them only assures mutual destruction."

"Not if we hit their silos first, go tactical on their asses."

"And their allies? Subs? Satellite silos?"

"Well, hell yeah, hit 'em all."

"You're a simple son of a bitch," Silva said.

"Several laughed, and it made him more than a little embarrassed, but he tried to brush it off.

"All been tried before," replied Taylor. "We start throwing nukes, and we can say goodbye to half the World's population. Hell we lost enough to the aliens."

"Yeah, but we're still fighting 'em!"

Taylor couldn't refute it. "You just leave the big decisions to others, Private. Those with the bigger picture and a greater understanding of these things."

"Like you do?" Parker asked.

Taylor smiled in response. He had gained a reputation for insubordination to the level it was now a joke amongst the Corps.

"Hey, when you reach Colonel, feel free to call the shots. Till that time, your ass is mine, and you'll do, think, and say whatever I want you to."

Several of the others laughed at him being put in his place, but all in good humour. They put down in the Meaux base shortly afterwards and found they were being welcomed by General Dupont himself with just a few of his personal staff. Taylor stepped down the ramp and sighed as he awaited the ribbing he was expecting, but to his surprise it never came.

"Welcome back, Colonel," said Dupont.

He was so polite Taylor wondered if he were even the same man he used to know. For just a few seconds, he considered the possibility the General himself was a Krys agent, but he let the thought settle to the back of his mind, realising it couldn't be true.

"You wanted us...me back for something big, what's the story?"

"You'll have to follow me. The rest of your unit can stand down. Canteen is open and awaiting them."

"I'd have a few join me, Sir."

"A handful of your most senior personnel."

He turned and pointed to Silva, Grey, and Parker.

"Better bring him along, too," Dupont said, pointing to Jafar.

They're finally learning to trust him,
Taylor thought.

He turned to the others who hadn't bothered to fall in.

"Get some chow, and some sleep if I haven't found a job for you by the time you're done."

There were various grunts of relief and approval. Taylor joined the General as he got up to pace.

"So what's up?" he asked.

"When we get inside, Colonel."

They passed through into one of the administrative buildings that Taylor knew to house some of the research facilities. It was a vast six storey complex, with an array of anti-aircraft weapons fitted along its walls. It was the kind of stronghold many would choose to take shelter, and the last on Earth Taylor ever wanted to be because he knew what a target it made itself.

As they stepped inside, Taylor realised what a hive of activity it was; both researchers and military personnel rushed past them.

"Whatever you had to tell me can't be that much of a secret," said Taylor.

"Not a word leaves this building. Those operating here, live here presently. Until today, only three of my staff and myself have left this facility in the last month. Since you uncovered... and recovered the first Krys agent we have been working to determine what exactly they are."

"And hopefully in what numbers they are, and how we can identify the bastards."

"Yes, and many other questions which we are all asking."

"And have you found those answers?"

"Some of them."

They reached another level of security where three armed guards stopped them. They stood before a heavily reinforced blast door. It clearly had more than a single entry device.

"They're with me. Open the door," Dupont said casually.

The guards hesitated, looking suspiciously at the alien among the group, and then to Taylor who was still coated in dust and with a bloodied face. His rifle slung at his side was another cause for concern. One of the guards tried to talk, but the General interrupted him.

"Well don't just stand there, open the door!"

They jumped to action. Two of them pulled out key cards and held them before a scanner at each end of the door. A green light on a board of three lit up. Next the General stepped forward to a retina scanner, and it immediately flashed a second green light. Lastly, he typed in a passcode onto a small pad beside the retina scanner, and the last light went green. As the doors prised apart, they could see they were foot thick steel, and it was clear the entire section they were entering was proof against all but apocalyptic assault.

Castle within a castle,
Taylor thought.

The room was filled with yet more busy personnel, and most of what they worked on went right over the Colonel's head. Dupont led them to a table where a few familiar faces sat, including Reiter. He nodded in a casual welcome and then turned his attention to a man he'd never expected to see again - Major Bryan Weller; his interrogator when he was incarcerated so long ago by Dupont and Schulz.

"What the hell part do you play in all of this?" he asked.

"There was a prisoner to interrogate," he replied dryly.

Taylor didn't hate the man. In fact, he had been remarkably civil during their time, but he still found it hard to forgive and work with him after all he had suffered during his time behind bars. That time cost him Friday's life, and that incident would forever be linked to Dupont and Weller for him.

"We seemed to have stepped past our difficulties for the greater good, Colonel. Can you not do the same?"

In danger of appearing as if he were throwing a tantrum, he righted himself and respectfully nodded. It was at least a relief they were working with him and not against him.

"All right, all this build up, let's hear what the fuck’s going on."

"Colonel, we have assembled here the greatest minds at our disposal to try and answer all the questions we have had this past month and before. There is some chance of stopping this war, if we can prove to all parties that an alien force is pulling the strings here, but we need proof. Proof is the key. I will now hand you over to Marian Rossi, the lead researcher for this project."

Rossi looked to be no older than thirty-five, surprisingly young for the position of power and responsibility she was in. Her hair was tied up and out the way for her work, and thickly applied make up barely hid the weariness in her face; from what was clearly many sleepless nights of work. Despite that, she was strikingly attractive, a fact that did not go unnoticed to Parker as Taylor got lost in her eyes.

"So what are your findings?" asked Eli.

"Quite frankly they are not developed enough, but time is not on our side. I am here to tell you what we know so far. The specimen, K1, who you know as Councillor Armand, outwardly appears and is as human as you are. Internally, K1's organs are an exact to match ours, and dental records even match, assuming the original records were not tampered with."

"So we're no further ahead with it?" asked Taylor cynically.

"Be patient, Colonel," said Dupont.

Mitch grunted for the scientist to continue.

"I cannot say whether K1 is in fact a clone or not. Neither do we yet know whether K1 serves the Krys of his own volition. However, what I can tell you is he is not one hundred percent identical to humans."

Taylor's eyes lit up.

"The retinas are quite different and are lined with a technology we believe records all they see. Additionally, a microscopic transmitting device placed inside the brain is believed to transmit these images."

"Believe?"

"Colonel, you must understand, we are trying to understand technology which is perhaps hundreds of years more advanced than our own in so little time."

He nodded in agreement and appreciation for all she was doing.

"So if he's been transmitting all this time, they know where he is, and what we're doing?"

Dupont interrupted.

"The K1 specimen was immediately quarantined upon arrival and placed within every form of barrier defence against transmission or detection we possibly have."

"As far as we know, the last images K1 could have transmitted were when he arrived here a month ago," Rossi added.

"That's a lot of maybes, Doc."

"I am sorry, Colonel, but we are doing all that we can."

"All right, so tell me more about this transmitter. Is it proof of alien tech and can it be easily identified?"

"Yes, it is not of Earth manufacture. An x-ray can identify this chip, assuming all Krys agents have them."

"And that's a big assumption," added Parker.

"We have to go with what we know, and what we have to work with," said Dupont.

"Anything else?" asked Taylor. "Anything else different about them? Are they stronger than us, see further? Hear better?"

Rossi shook her head. "They appear human in all other attributes."

"But you still can't tell if they're grown in a test tube or what?"

Dupont interrupted once again.

"Councillor Armand was a civil servant before the war, and like many who survived the war in Europe, we have little documentation showing where they were over the last few years. So yes, a man that looked like him existed; whether it is the same man, remains to be seen."

Taylor looked to his former interrogator who was waiting patiently.

"How far have you got with Armand?" Taylor asked him.

"About as far as I got with you."

"Then maybe you should consider a change of career."

"Silva could not help but laugh a little, but he tried to hide it.

"You must have got something out of him?" insisted Taylor.

Weller shook his head. "He's denying any knowledge of Krys agents and claims to be nothing more than his official title."

"Well, it's not like he's gonna give it up easily, is it?"

"My hands are tied, Colonel. There are hundreds of ways to interrogate a prisoner, but just as when I worked with you, our laws restrict me. There is little I can do but talk."

"Talk? You call talking interrogation? You're trying to find out secrets which could be vital to the survival of the human race."

Taylor turned to Dupont who shrugged in response.

"You're okay with this? Abide by every human rights law there is while this bastard sits pretty and gives us nothing?"

"And what would you have said if we broke those rules when you were behind bars?"

"I'd have fought you every step of the way, Weller, and I doubt you'd still be here today. But I don't give a goddamn what might, should, or could have been done. I care about this moment, right now."

"Need I remind you we have built our laws over thousands of years, and while they may not be perfect, it remains necessary to keep them intact to keep our humanity," said Rossi.

Taylor shook his head in disbelief.

"Great, Doctor, good for you. You hang on to those socialist ideals, and go and live in your fairy tale world where everything is just fucking amazing, and aliens don't come and try and fuck your shit up."