Battle Earth IX (10 page)

"Here we go again," he muttered.

"Incoming!" a voice hollered from high above them.

Taylor rushed up to the next level and could dust clouds in the distance. Enemy vehicles were rushing from the coast over the flattened ruins of housing neighbourhoods and parks where nothing had lived for many years. He already knew it would be a repeat of what they had seen earlier, and that he could do nothing now but hope the defenders at the wall were able to take them down, knowing what they now knew.

Jones appeared at his side and pointed up to the sky that was filled with the silhouettes of enemy vessels. They turned and looked back west; friendly aircraft were en route to intercept.

"At least we got air cover," he muttered.

They watched with bated breath as the Mech vehicles soared towards their defences. They had all seen or experienced the horrific destruction of the first line of defences, and it took immense willpower to stand their ground on the second. Taylor readied his rifle. He had no idea if he could penetrate the frontal armour of the vehicles, but he was gonna put everything into them he could.

He looked along the line. Every anti tank weapon and heavy weapon they could muster was positioned ready for the next wave.

 
But will it be enough?

It wasn't long before the vehicles passed into range, and he could start to make out their shapes through the dust cloud. He held his fire for them to close the distance and watched as the gun towers above him opened fire. The crews took the small armoured skimmers seriously this time and targeted them immediately.

Taylor could see how terrifying the breaching vehicles were to all those around him, and he felt it too. The last one had almost been the end of him, and it made him think of Eli and how much they had to lose. He stood back and looked for her. About ten metres along the line he spotted her, and she was looking at him at just the same moment. It was all the time he could spare, and he went back to his position as the first wall mounted weapons opened fire. Two of the vehicles ahead burst into flames, and one of them veered off course, smashing into another that caused it to flip over and dig itself into the ground and come to an abrupt halt.

Cheers rang out across the line, and Taylor briefly thought they had a chance of stopping them, but the gunfire continued all the same. Their nearest vehicles were now within two hundred metres and closing fast. Taylor took aim and fired three single shots in rapid succession and watched as each one glanced off their armour.

"Not good," he grumbled.

He looked around and wanted to say something. He wanted to call on some reserve, bring something else into play, but there was nothing. Engines roared overhead as Mech flyers soared over them, unopposed by the gun towers that were too occupied on the ground. Mitch looked up at doors opening on the vehicles, and Mechs leapt out, descending onto the open plain before them and throughout the tiers of defences beyond.

"So not good," he said to himself.

He knew he could do nothing against the incoming vehicles, so he turned his attention to the airborne Mechs dropping among them. He targeted one descending near to him and fired a burst into its back, killing it before its feet hit the ground. He turned his attention to another and fired several shots as it landed, but most missed, and only one hit it and glanced off. Remembering the assault beyond the wall, he turned back for just a moment and watched another of the vehicles be engulfed in flames. But out of those flames came two more heading for the wall thirty metres to the west.

The fixed weapon emplacements tracked as quickly as they could, but most of their fire missed the vehicles, and it was too late. They hit the wall with a vicious impact, and just as before, went silent for a moment. Jones froze and looked to Taylor in horror.

"Off the wall!" Taylor screamed.

He immediately ran to the edge and jumped. He had to hope the others would follow suit. Taylor was heading head first onto a Mech and simply slipped his shield beneath his feet like a surfboard and landed square on top of it. The weight of the impact smashed it head first into the ground, but that wasn't enough certainty for Taylor. He landed fairly solidly and quickly put the barrel of his rifle to the back of the Mech and fired a three-shot burst.

"Take cover!" someone yelled.

It was the only reminder he needed. He rolled over and lifted his shield to hide behind it, and had just five seconds before the blast ignited. Showers of debris impacted over his shield, but nothing substantial. He pulled it aside and got up. The wall before him had remained intact, but then he turned westward and could see the dust settling and a gaping hole in their defences. In his daze he had forgotten all about the Mechs dropping above them, and a pulse stuck the ground only centimetres from his feet. He raised his shield, and as he looked up, one of the creatures was hurtling towards him.

The Mech struck the base of his shield. It gave way and twisted his still recovering arm. He let out a cry in agony, as he felt the pin sharp agony run up the arm as the creature landed beside him. With one swing, the creature swung its pulse cannon around and used it like a club to smash him in the flank while the pain was distracting him. He felt his body fold at the waist, and he dropped to the ground.

As he hit landed, he realised the trouble he was in and pulled his shield around to cover his body. The cannon opened fire, and three pulses struck his shield in rapid succession. He had no idea what to do, for he was pinned down, and the shield wouldn't last out much longer.

The firing stopped, and he carefully peered around his shield. His eyes widened on seeing a foot of the Mech stomping down towards him. He raised his shield at the last second, and the impact forced it onto his helmet with such immense force he was knocked unconscious.

* * *

Taylor awoke to a bumpy ride. He was moving fast and looking at the floor. His vision began to clear, and he could tell he was being carried, but was noticeably higher than any human could carry him. A moment later he was placed down to rest and was able to see the face of his saviour - Jafar.

"How long have I been out?" Mitch quickly asked.

"Too long!" a voice yelled at his flank.

He turned and saw Jones bandaging up a superficial wound on his own arm.

"Really, how long?" Taylor insisted.

"Couple of hours."

Taylor's eyes widened.

"Two hours? What the hell has happened in that time?"

"About what you'd expect."

Taylor shook his head. He was relieved to be alive, but the sensation was overwhelmed by his anger that he had not been there to fight the battle. He looked around at the subway station a little over fifty metres ahead of him. It was where he had been called to Heath's operations room.

"What are we doing here? Why aren't we in the fight?"

"We've been pulled back for a little R&R," replied Jones.

"How much have we lost?"

Jones went quiet and looked down as he finished tying his bandage.

"How much?"

He slowly looked up at Taylor, and he could already tell it wasn't going to be good news.

"To the east and north four tiers, but we still hold them to the south and west."

"Four?" asked Taylor.

He wasn’t really surprised but still felt shocked. He went silent, taking in everything around him. He could hear the war still raging in the distance.

"We can't stay here," he muttered.

Jones looked over to him.

"What was that?"

Taylor took in a deep breath.

"You were right. We're losing. Stay here and we all die."

It was loud enough that a number of the troops around him also heard what he had said. It was clear they agreed with him. Taylor looked around for a rifle and soon found one, though he had no idea if it was his. He propped it beside him and used it for leverage to get to his feet.

"Where are you going?" Jones asked.

"To make sure the General knows what’s what."

"He ain't gonna like that."

"I don't give a shit. We either get out of here ASAP, or it’s over for all of us."

Jones couldn't disagree, so he leapt to his side and followed him on towards the subway station entrance. Taylor passed Parker. She stood talking with her platoon, and he acknowledged her as he stepped beyond. He hadn't even thought to ask after casualties and who of his friends might be dead. The survival of them all was too important to be distracted with anything.

"How you gonna play this?"

"Same way I always do, Charlie."

"Piss everyone off, then?"

Taylor smiled a little in response, but it soon waned at the thought of their present situation.

"Something like that, yes."

The guards let him by without question, for they all knew who he was. As the two of them stepped into Heath's war room, they could feel the tension there. Nobody was speaking, and Heath was sitting back and upright in his chair deep in thought while many of his staff just looked lost and confused. The General had the look of a broken man about himself, and Taylor knew it was the prime time to make his point. He strode up to the General so he might talk privately.

"Sir, we're done here," he whispered.

Heath nodded in partial agreement, but Taylor could see General White approaching to join the conversation.

"If you have something to say, Colonel, then let it out," he stated for all to hear.

Taylor looked up and nodded, thinking carefully about how to word it.

"Well come on," added White.

"This fight, this city, it's over. All we can do by staying here is prolong our deaths."

"You are famed for many things, Colonel, cowardice is not one of them, so don't start now."

"Cowardice!" Jones shouted, "You've got some nerve..."

Taylor lifted his hand and stopped the Captain as he tried to lunge forward in his verbal attack. As he did so, he noticed the enemy advances displayed on the map projection. It was clear their were being encircled.

"Sir, we’re being surrounded. We cannot survive this. I'm sure everyone in the room is familiar with a tactical withdrawal. You are all qualified officers, after all?" Taylor asked dryly.

The question was rhetorical, and he knew it would piss White off, but they all remained silent as they waited for more explanation.

"This simple fact is we are in deep shit. I don't have the answers, but I do know dying here, and it won't take long, will not help anyone. I say we get out, and put some distance between us and them."

"We were ordered to hold here, and that's precisely what we'll do. I know following orders is a concept entirely alien to you, Colonel, but let's not forget who is in charge here."

"No, let's not," he replied sternly, looking back at Heath who had still not spoken a word or even acknowledged either of them. As Taylor waited for a response, his senses had begun to recover, and he could smell and taste everything around them. A waft of coffee spread through the air, but more than anything, rank sweat dominated the room. He looked over to Heath. There was a burn mark on the side of his helmet and deep scratches in his armour. He had clearly joined the fight at some stage and smelt as bad as he did.

It all only served to make the entire place even more depressing. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, only a grizzly few hours or days left to survive through. He wouldn’t hold his tongue any longer.

“General Heath. Baltimore is a pit for us to crawl into and die. I won’t be a part of it. I won’t let my people die here because of a fool’s errand. We’re out of here, and so should you. You’d better decide whether you want to have our help getting out of here, or if you want to stay here to rot.”

White jumped into the conversation furiously.

“We cannot leave. We have a duty to…”

But Heath finally moved and slammed his hand down on the table before him. It was enough of a shock to bring White to a halt. As the officer in command, they all looked to him.

“Baltimore couldn’t be defended the first time, and it cannot be defended now. I will not stand to lose everyone under my command for no good reason. We’re leaving here, and we’re doing it as quickly as we goddamn can!”