Planet Genocide I (Galaxies Collide Book 3) (20 page)

As the far eastern side of the globe darkened, many citizens stared up at the stars, the flashes from fighter jets across the upper heavens lowering their moods and expectations. Some saw what they thought were numerous shooting stars, glowing objects flying across the heavens and glinting against the darkness, a light show that offered potential cheer to a world waiting nervously and holding its breath, completely devoid of any clear news.

The sky was unusually clear, the stars more clearly beautiful than usual as families joined together to look upwards, some in prayer as the spreading rumours spoke of a battle now raging for civilisation itself.

Others knew different, the understanding that such a spectacular light show could only mark the end of the presence of Trevakian protective ships, earth’s new allies defeated by overwhelming strength of an enemy that now dominated the upper atmosphere.

As the lower Pacific islands disappeared under a wall of water, the warning sirens sounded all across New Zealand and Australia, most of the population fleeing the coast in terror for the highest inland mountains as the high powered Tsunami swept towards them.

The shattered windows of the airport terminals glowed from the flames, the cracks of pistol shots and chatter of automatic fire filling the concourses and gate rooms as Thai soldiers and airport security staff fought desperately against the invaders.

Grounded civilian aircraft now sat burning on the tarmac near the gates, the stranded national carrier planes from around the world succumbing to rockets and small arms fire as one by one their outer hulls were perforated. The battle had raged most of the day, winged Morgon shock troops initially sweeping the runways before landing and forming formidable attack groups.

Some airline crews and ground staff had sought safety and refuge in several of the large planes near the terminal as gunfire erupted around the numerous airport buildings, their bodies shaking in fear as they began to realise the tall muscular enemy soldiers had no intention of letting innocents escape. Once the northern part of the airfield was secured by alien shock troops, several of the bravest humans glanced out over the runway in curiosity, their breath held as many strange angular vessels landed vertically, more sinister armoured troops spilling from the cargo bays and reinforcing the invaders.

Aircraft doors were torn from their housings by black and camouflaged armoured infantry, the desperate begging and pitiful whines ignored as gunfire and slashing swords cleared the hiding places one by one. Several large jets were simply set alight, rockets fired into open cargo doors or pulse grenades thrown through bullet shattered windows, the frantic muffled screams silenced as bodies were broken from explosions or incinerated as the remaining aviation fuel ignited.

Three large jets sat away from the end of the southernmost eastern runway, positioned on remote stands to patiently await the resumption of commercial flying. Two British Airways planes were situated on either side of an American Airlines jumbo jet, the national flagged tail fins flickering in the illumination from a variety of fires spreading across the airport as the darkness began to fall.

The smartly uniformed air crews had all come to the airport in the early morning. Their personal money exhausted, they had all voted to reside within the aircraft rather than the regular hotels as communications with their airline operational centres were jammed, preventing payment to the local hostelries and any guarantees of further funds. As a contingency, the airport authority had been keen to continue positive relationships, offering a free shuttle service and three complimentary meals a day from the staff canteens.

After a large breakfast, the pilots and their cabin crew had slowly walked back to their aircraft, sleepily chatting with other airline and ground staff as they prepared for a morning nap in the first class seats, the supplied food more plentiful than anything they had experienced in the last few days. The stress of limited or no funds and gradually more hostile hotel staff had proved an experience of emotional attrition, the exhausted British Airways crew wearily climbing the steps and into their individual aircraft, waving a welcome as the American Airlines staff had finally arrived, their hotel further into the city centre for the staff shuttles to collect.

Awoken abruptly by muffled shouts of alarm and the airport emergency siren, Captain Andrews had scrambled into the flight deck of the large British Airways jet, rubbing his eyes and cursing his earlier heavy drinking from the duty free cart, the Chivas Regal scotch leaving a potent aftertaste in his throat. Ducking low, he glanced cautiously out over the wide runway, figures in the distance running frantically across the tarmac as muffled gunfire began to echo from the airport terminals.

He had watched for several hours, the fires beginning to spread across the buildings as Thai security forces arrived en-masse at the International airport. The gun battles had raged all afternoon, the defensive forces gradually pushed back as hissed whispers came from the crew station behind, the urgency increasing as his staff sought updates on the battle.

As the Morgon transporters had landed at the far sides of the runway in the distance, the sights had spurred him into action, a Lufthansa plane igniting and bursting into flames at its gate as rockets shattered the fuselage. Lunging back through the first class cabin, he had instructed the crew to remain in their seats, opening the rear door to the steps slowly and stealing a look out.

The battle seemed further away than he imagined once outside, the almost sweltering humid warm air engulfing his frame. His slim thirty-eight-year-old body slipped down the steps and skirted the rear of the large plane at a half-crouch, several terrified ground staff clambering up the steps for refuge behind him.

Reaching the large American Airlines aircraft, he waved a greeting at the startled crew member staring from one of the windows, the rear door opening silently as he looked upwards. The American captain stared down cautiously, Andrews hissing upwards as gunfire cracked in the distance, ‘Check your fuel levels…the runway is relatively clear and we have no cargo…how far can you fly?’

The American nodded obediently, waving as Captain Andrews disappeared from view, running low and towards the last aircraft, the British national colours emblazoned on the tail fin above him. He grinned as his startled colleague looked out, the young first officer gritting his teeth in irritation, ‘What you up to Andrews? You trying to get us all killed?’

The British Airways captain snarled back, ‘Shut it! Just get me a fuel report off that old rogue in charge! How far can you fly?’ He ducked below the wide wheels to wait, glancing back down the runway and seeing more armoured soldiers in the distance advancing towards the burning airport buildings, the cracks of gunshots still ringing out.

The response seemed a lengthy wait, Andrews gritting his teeth in impatience as rockets flew into the airport terminal, explosions tossing glass and flames from the structures, his eyes fixing on the bodies lying across the taxiways and jetty points further down the runway.

Finally, a startled voice shouted down, his face looking upwards as his long term colleague stared down, a grim smile forming on his lips as the captain above grinned, ‘Andrews, you pirate…what’s going on? What’s the game plan?’

He grimaced, ‘Just tell me how much fuel you have…you old fool...I am keen to get out of here!’

The uniformed captain shrugged, ‘Not much, we would not get far…how about you?’

Captain Andrews shook his head in frustration, ‘Me neither…get your crew across to us and we will come up with an idea…’ He indicated down the runway grimly, ‘It won’t be long before these bastards get wind of us here and then it’s all over…we have ground crew and our own on board…it’s time to get out of here!’ The man above nodded in agreement, disappearing back inside as Andrews ran back round the rear of the American aircraft, glancing around in desperation for some sort of vehicle or escape route. He carefully noted the buildings in the distance to the south, their hulks in darkness, his mind wondering if they could move to them. Shaking his head, he considered they already had a perfect way of escape, they just needed the fuel.

Dropping to a crouch below the American rear door, he stared upwards, the purser pushing his head out, his voice shaking, ‘Our captain says he has enough fuel load to reach China…probably further with few passengers and no cargo…he is doing the calculations now and completing pre-flight checks. Have you got more?’

Andrews hissed back, glancing round in fear as machine gun fire echoed towards him, further explosions tearing through airport gate rooms, ‘No…we all fly American then…I will get my crew and any stragglers from the nearest buildings…’ He indicated to the other British Airways plane, ‘They will be coming too…stop them and get them all on board!’

The purser thrust his hand out, a thumb jerking in the air, ‘Understood buddy! I will go tell the captain!’

Andrews grimaced, ‘I am a captain too, you cheeky…’ He shook his head as the purser disappeared back inside, turning and lunging back under his own aircraft towards the steps.

Inside the vast airport terminal building, the Morgon soldiers were gradually fighting their way into the central area, gunfire shredding the airline hoardings and fixtures as pulse grenades and rockets were used to dislodge the determined Thai defenders. Initially capturing the northern domestic warehouses by surprise, the armoured figures swept into the main buildings, overwhelming any resistance brutally as the Thai security personnel fought back with bitter defiance. As the first army units arrived, they were met with determined fire, several armoured cars destroyed on the main approach highway by rockets, the survivors cut down as they ran towards the lavish central complex.

Army units poured in from the west, entering through cargo security gates, the sirens beginning to wail across the nearby city as the residents stared at the distant explosions and gunfire in dread. The fighting was now escalating to its conclusion, Thai police officers and security staff stubbornly defending the baggage reclaim halls as black armoured infantry threw pulse grenades and fired rockets blindly into the enclosed expanse, the screams of the wounded spurring them on as they rose up and charged across the carousels.

On the upper levels, sniper rifles and machine guns fired out at the advancing soldiers, the shrieks of the attackers chilling the defenders’ resolve as they fired back, explosions ripping through retail shops and security posts as one by one the defensive positions were crushed.

Captain Andrews ran towards the back of the large American Airlines jet, a number of wary airport staff following his black epaulets and sweat soaked white shirt across the tarmac from the southern buildings where they had been sheltering in fear. Ensuring all the crews were boarding the central aircraft earlier, he had sprinted off, much to the exasperation of the observing purser as one of the British Airways crew advised bluntly their captain would return shortly.

Ushering the cautious Thai, Chinese and Philippine nationals up the shaking steps, he carefully moved to the front cabin of the stairs vehicle below, releasing the handbrake and pushing the gear stick into neutral, exhaling in satisfaction as he noted the stabilisers for the truck were not in place. He glanced upwards, reassured that all people had now clambered aboard, a single strand of rope dropping from above, thoughtfully brought by one of the more alert ground crew as they had argued who would stay behind as the door was too high.

Resting his lumber region against the wide bonnet of the truck, he heaved backwards, his shoes slipping on the tarmac as leg muscles tensed, the tyres turning slowly as the vehicle moved from the aircraft, gradually gaining momentum. He grimaced as the truck lurched backwards, gathering some speed, his eyes widening in horror as it rolled away, a slight screech of metal as it came to rest against the rear tail of his own aircraft. A brief grin swept across his face as he realised he would no longer have to fill in any paperwork for damage sustained as he tugged on the oiled rope, grasping it tightly and clenching his shoes together around the base.

Slowly his body rose upwards, Captain Andrews shaking his head in despondency as he stared out over the burning buildings, the flashes from internal detonations flickering across the broken glass frontages. He glanced upwards as the purser swore, hearing the strained muffled voice as the American hauled on the rope with some of the ground crew inside the darkened aircraft, ‘Jeez…this guy needs to lose some weight!’

In the cockpit, the American pilot completed the last of his pre-flight checks, both flight crew kneeling on the floor beneath the upper windows as they checked the controls, the airplane in darkness. Behind them, Captain Andrews stood at the entrance to the passenger cabin, his expression strained as he addressed the airline crew and ground staff sat apprehensively in their chosen seats, ‘We will get one chance at this…the runway is relatively clear and we are hoping for the element of surprise to achieve a successful take off. Keep your heads down, hands on the seat in front and move away from the windows…’ He indicated to several ground staff to move from the outer seats, ‘We have no cargo and enough fuel to reach well beyond China’s border, that should prove to be a safe haven for now…’ He looked around the staring faces, ‘The take-off will be rough, we are going to engage full thrust to the engines and attempt to become airborne as soon as possible…as long as any ground fire does not hit us, we should be successful…’

He exhaled heavily, nervousness tingling in his spine as he heard the pilot whisper through the open cockpit door, ‘Ok bud…we are good to go!’

Andrews nodded to the collection of passengers and wide eyed cabin crews, ‘Ok guys, here we go…good luck…’ He turned slowly, ducking down to slip into the cockpit, the door closing silently behind him.

The pilot and co-pilot scrambled into their seats, the engine noise rising as the turbines began to rotate at high speed. Increasing the power, the three pilots stared into the distance, the burning buildings as before, the tracer fire rising into the night air. As the jet began to vibrate slightly, the engines roared, approaching full thrust as the large plane shot forward. Shouts of alarmed surprise came from the passengers behind, their bodies pushed back violently into their seats as the large jet gathered momentum, the engines screaming as the captain and co-pilot pushing the thrust to maximum as the plane accelerated dramatically.

Red glowing eyes turned to stare down the runway at the silver craft screaming towards them, the pilots pulling hard on their controls as the thirty-six passengers shrieked behind, the engines a deafening roar as the silver American Airlines plane’s nose rose from the tarmac. Flames reflected off the shining fuselage, the large jet’s wheels rising as the engines roared louder, heat waves pouring from the rear as the roar spread across the runway and burning buildings.