Time War: Invasion (19 page)

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Authors: Nick S. Thomas

BOOK: Time War: Invasion
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“How long?”

But the Colonel only shook his head. He clearly had no idea and beckoned them to follow him to a nearby canvas shelter, and they rushed inside. It was a vast structure and filled with all those taking part, over a hundred soldiers. Corwin found a free space, threw down his pack, and lay down beside it. It was already dark, and they wanted to sleep, but were too high on the adrenaline that came with the opening of an operation to ever sleep.

“Little water and they shy away, pussies,” said Porter.

Corwin looked over to see the most despicable of his squad was sitting opposite him, and then noticed Lecia beside him. He looked back to Porter and sighed as he thought of his negativity and nihilism.

“Why did you ever sign up to this, Porter?”

He laughed before responding. “Most fun you can have and get paid for."

“You don’t believe in our cause, though? Don’t believe in right or wrong?”

He laughed once again. “I know more than you will probably realise. I just see a bigger picture than most of you.”

It was a disturbing thought, but Corwin was willing to give it a chance.

“You’re beyond fucked, you know that?”

Porter only grinned at Lecia and gave her a mock salute.

“Come on, he’s talking some sense. Let’s hear what words of wisdom he has for us.”

 
Porter drew out the pipe he had been smoking of late and continued to pack and light it while the two of them waited with some anticipation to hear what he had to say.

“Okay, so you keep fighting for some sense of what, honour? Duty? Humanity?”

“Something like that,” Corwin replied.

“It’s all shit. Society is fucked, and you have to accept it. We keep fighting for different ideals and realities, why?”

“Because one is better than another?”

“And you think I am fucked up?” he asked, laughing again.

Corwin managed to smile at least, but Lecia looked less than impressed.

Time passed slowly, but they knew there was going to be no news as the weather progressed in the same fashion they had experienced. They awoke the next day and found nothing had changed. Corwin found himself standing at the edge of the canvas just centimetres from the rainwater still pouring down. Williams appeared at his side.

“I suppose you are used to waiting for these opportunities?”

Corwin shook his head.

“Seen plenty of combat, but never had to wait for it.”

They waited out the rest of the day under canvas. It was the most boring experience the Luckers had ever had, unable to go anywhere or do anything. All they could do was wait where they were. The day passed slower than any week. They all knew the operation had to take place during nightfall. The sun was going down on the second day, and they were all awaiting news, when finally the rain came to a stop and they hoped for something.

Finally, at 7.30pm the Colonel rushed into the tent and yelled, “Fall in!”

Shouts of excitement from those inside echoed around the tent, but not the Luckers. They were keen to move on and do something, but were not excited at the prospect. None except for Porter, whose sick sense of humour warranted a regular portion of violence.

They grabbed their gear and rushed out of the tents to see the silhouettes of the C47s awaiting them on the airstrip.

“A chance to stick it to the Nazis? Never thought I’d have the chance,” said Nylund.

Nobody was sure whether he was putting on a show or not, or even if he really understood the conflict, but they were all starting to feel it.

Chapter 10

They were fifty minutes into a forty-five minute journey. No one had said a word for the last thirty minutes. Corwin watched the British soldiers out of curiosity. He'd not had chance to say more than a fleeting hello to the young
Lieutenant Burr. He looked little more than twenty-one years old. Despite his youthful looks, he had an air of confidence about him that Corwin admired, and that showed in how his men acted towards him. They were every bit as calm that he and his squad were, and yet he knew they could have seen little action. Many of them still looked at Corwin's group with suspicion, and particularly with doubt and amazement at the women in the group.

Porter had his usual wicked grin on his face.

"What are you so happy about?" Nylund asked.

"You lot seem to think it's some fucking tragedy that we're stuck here. All I see is a more interesting war, and more people to kill. This is what we were born for."

"You think fate got us here?" Tano asked.

"Why not?"

"Because if you believe in fate, you accept that we cannot have any effect on our deeds and actions, or any others. That we are merely playing out a script," added Beyett.

"Would that be so bad?"

"To know you are merely a puppet with someone else pulling the strings?"

Porter shook his head at Tano.

"Forever worrying what could be, why not just roll with it and enjoy the ride?"

Tano shook his head and didn't respond because he knew he wasn't getting anywhere. Beyett opened his mouth to speak but was drowned out by a hail of bullets hitting the fuselage of their aircraft. Machine gun fire strafed the length of the craft. One shot was stopped dead on Corwin's body armour, and another clipped Porter's left arm, causing a shallow cut to open. But it was the British sticks who took it the worst. They were riddled with bullets. Seven were killed outright, and another three wounded. A moment later they heard the sound of an aircraft buzz overhead.

Corwin leapt out of his seat and to the far side window to see for himself. A German fighter soared past and was banking hard to come around for a second run. One of the other C47s had been struck in its left side engine and cockpit. It was plummeting towards the ground. In that moment he realised just how mortal they were; they were not even carrying parachutes. Beyett was quick to rush to the aid of the wounded soldiers.

"What do we do?" Lieutenant Burr shouted to Corwin.

He could see the terror in the man's eyes, for they were indeed in a death trap.

"He's mine," stated Lecia.

She jumped over several bodies as she rushed to the back of the plane and pulled open the side door. Corwin and Burr ran to her side with weapons in hand.

"What are you doing?" Burr asked in amazement.

Corwin placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Let her work!"

They looked out; the fighter was still banking hard to come up on their tail where their unarmed transport would be a sitting duck. It came up on their rear left hand side, allowing all three of them to see it from the doorway.

"No way you can make that shot!" Burr yelled.

She clung to the side of the fuselage, locking her rifle against it for stability, and began to take aim.

"We can't take another pass!"

The fighter's guns opened fire, but only got off two shots as Lecia squeezed the trigger on her Enfield rifle. The shot penetrated the fighter’s cockpit and struck its pilot in the forehead, killing him instantly. The gunfire stopped, and the aircraft began to bank and finally dip into a spin.

Burr was wide eyed in shock.

"How?"

But she said nothing in response. Corwin hauled the door shut, and they looked back to the stunned soldiers staring at them. Finally, one began to clap, and within a few seconds even the wounded had joined in. But she did not blush or look at all fazed by it. She stepped back to her seat as she passed the applauding solders.

"That's just showing off," said Vi.

The wounded were patched up as best they could. One looked close to the end, while the others seemed like they'd make it and were eager to go on, if not capable. Burr knelt down beside the two with lesser wounds.

"When we get to the ground, you two stay here, and look after him," he said as he pointed to the dying man.

It was an act of kindness towards all three of them, and Corwin was impressed. Nevertheless, they were rapidly losing combat strength. The pilot looked back at him with a look of dread.

"Undercarriage is damaged!" he shouted.

"Just do whatever you have to do to get us on the ground!" Burr ordered before Corwin could say much the same thing.

Everyone knew the plane was their ticket out of there, but they were too focused on the mission to let that get in the way. They were making their descent quickly now. In the distance they saw flashes of light from bombs lighting up the sky, and they could hear the continual thunderous eruptions as the RAF smashed the target they were heading for. Corwin looked out of the window. They were coming in fast, so he took a seat and braced himself ready for the impact. He reached across and took hold of one of the wounded men and held him firmly in place.

"Hold on!" yelled the pilot.

Part of the undercarriage that was down touched the surface of the field with an almost perfect landing. The pilot held it there and slowly brought the other side of the plane down until the wing clipped the edge of the field. It turned and slid in the mud. Half of the wing was torn off, and the undercarriage collapsed. The belly of the fuselage smashed into the dirt and brought them to a quick stop.

The pilot shouted, "Everyone okay?"

Corwin looked around and amazingly they were okay, if a little stunned. He got up and rushed to the door.
 

"Get the wounded to one of the other birds."

"Stay alert, and stay safe," Burr said to the crew of the craft. He rushed to the side door and tried to force it open, but the fuselage had buckled and it was jammed.

"May I?" Rane asked.

Burr turned in surprise on finding the towering soldier standing right next to him. He stepped aside, and Rane kicked the door with seemingly little effort. The door buckled and folded at the centre, and then burst off its hinges. He flew five metres across the field and left Burr in utter shock. He thought to ask more, but stopped; he was just glad to have Rane on his side.

They leapt out of the aircraft and found themselves just thirty metres from the nearest friendly aircraft that had touched down safely. There was so much moonlight they could see clearly across the open field. That was both some relief and terrifying, for their approach to any enemy target could therefore be seen from a great distance.

Corwin noticed Williams approaching at the head of his platoon. They seemed to have made it to the ground unscathed. The CO looked at their wrecked aircraft and dwindling numbers for just a moment before realising the mission must go on. He looked around to get his bearings for just a moment before pointing and leading the way.

“Come on,” he said and went enthusiastically forward.

Corwin wasn’t sure whether he was a man with combat experience or just had an inbuilt and inbred confidence that made him endearing, but he’d gladly follow the Colonel. They continued on through the night with seemingly no resistance at all. It seemed to them all that they had made it there safely; they hoped at least.

After covering a few klicks through the countryside, they reached a main road leading to the target, and sharply deviated to the north to track through foliage and around a perimeter fence. Williams brought them to a standstill, and Corwin was close by his side. He was pointing to a guard tower with a sentry just the other side of the fence. A large spot lamp was mounted on the near side.

“Let us handle this,” said Corwin.

Williams nodded in agreement, and Corwin pointed for Frasi to go forward. He slung his suppressed Sten over his body and covered the distance with such agility and finesse that he was barely visible as he hugged the ground. He reached the fence and scaled it more nimbly than a cat and was over it before anyone had time to notice.

Frasi seemed to vanish into the short foliage the other side of the fence, and everyone waited with anticipation. Then they saw him leap onto one of the support beams without even using the ladder. He stormed up the side and leapt through one of the narrow openings of the tower. He launched himself onto the guard like a bird of prey, and both collapsed out of sight. Just a few seconds later, Frasi appeared and beckoned them to join him.

Williams signalled them forward, and three of his platoon went straight for the fences with wire cutters in hand. They went at the steel piece by piece, but it was taking an age. Rane was getting tired of it and ran forward at one of the support beams. It was thick as a telegraph pole. Seeing his previous display of strength, Burr didn’t question it and only watched in awe.

“What’s your man doing?” Williams asked.

But Corwin only pointed towards the fence for them both to watch. Rane hit the post with immense speed and power, and it sheered at the base. Fifteen metres of the fence around him flattened as he smashed it down into the complex. He looked back at Corwin and wanted to speak, but knew they had no time, so merely signalled for them to go forward and advance through the opening that had been created for them.

Some distance away, fire crews were battling flames that the bombing had caused. There were large craters across the open ground, and several concrete domed structures appeared to be the roofs of the underground structure. Williams signalled for one of the platoons to circle off to the left hand side, and for Burr to go right. He took the centre.

The bombing had ripped a number of holes in the structure, with several car size pieces now scattered across the site. But most of the damage was merely to the ground around them, and repair crews were already at work fixing the damage. Frasi was still far ahead of them and approached the nearest crew with his suppressed submachine gun in hand. He opened fire on single shot without stopping and killed four of the Germans with eight perfectly aimed shots. They could barely hear the noise of the heavily dampened weapon. He stopped soon after, and as the rest of them caught up with him, they came across a ramp leading down into the facility. It had a two metre thick steel roof at the opening. There was a huge tear where a shell had clearly struck it and prised the metal apart, and yet not been able to damage the structure.

Corwin was first down the ramp, but Burr was close behind. The ramp zigzagged several times until they arrived twenty metres below the surface, where to their amazement they found an open doorway. As they approached, two soldiers appeared and stepped out before them. Both carried weapons on their shoulders and had no warning of their presence. They stopped and quickly pulled the weapons from their shoulders, but Burr opened fired with his Sten as Corwin squeezed the trigger of his Bren. The two soldiers were cut down in a hail of automatic gunfire.

But that gunfire echoed far into the distance, up the ramps they had come, and through the doorway inside. They looked at each other, knowing the element of surprise was gone.

"Come on, let's go!" Burr shouted.

The officer leapt enthusiastically in through the doorway and into a tunnel just three metres wide. Steel ribbing supported the thick concrete walls, and they could tell that nothing below the surface had been affected by the bombing. It was buried too deep and was far too strong.

"How the hell are we gonna blow this place?"

"We'll find a way, Lieutenant," replied Beyett. He rushed in behind them and carefully studied the walls.

"Our demolitions expert," added Corwin.

"I thought you were the medic?"

"I'm a lot of things, but don't you worry about that."

A klaxon style alarm suddenly fired up, and now they knew they truly were up against it. Burr led them on.

"We really have no idea what is being built here, do we?" Corwin asked Beyett.

"Whatever it is it can't be good."

Two soldiers leapt out from a side door ahead and began firing the second they were visible. Both wore the advanced body armour and had assault rifles like those they had seen at Bossan's house. Burr let out a cry of pain and dropped his weapon as he was hit. Corwin and Beyett returned fire, but the two soldiers quickly ducked back in for cover. Corwin kept firing bursts, holding the Bren in one hand and firing from the hip to keep them down. He wrenched out a grenade, pulled the pin, and launched it down the corridor.

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