Battle Earth IX (17 page)

“You want us to pillage from what refugees have left on the road?” Robinson asked in disgust.

“Let’s get this straight,” Taylor spoke sternly, “These are desperate times. You’ve seen it for yourself; so we don’t have time to get all soft and mushy over things we can neither affect nor help with in any way, other than by what we are already doing. Let’s focus on winning this war. It’s what we have a right and duty to do, no matter what, you got it?”

None of them liked it, but they accepted it.

“So if we get transport and clothes, we might get close to Munich, but then what? It’s not like we can just walk in and put a bullet in Erdogan’s head. How are we gonna get close to him, and even then, how are we gonna kill him?” Rains asked.

“There are plenty of humans working with the enemy. We should be able to blend in fine. How we get that close to Erdogan, well I dunno, but we’ll figure something out. And how we kill him? You’ve got me. We’ll figure much of this out as we go along.”

“You know this is a complete fucking disaster waiting to happen?”

Taylor nodded. “Isn’t everywhere around us in as bad a state? What else would you have me do?”

“Get some help. Find some support to get us through this. Otherwise, we’re just throwing our lives away because we can’t think of anything else. You’ve got this far because you’ve had others to rely on and see you through. We’re here for you, but we aren’t enough.”

Taylor knew it was true. His friends had kept him winning all along. He tried to think of how he could gain some support, but he was running out of friends to turn to. He looked to the other two.

“Rains has had a whole lot to say, what do you think?”

They were surprised and speechless. Clearly, they were not used to officers asking them their opinion.

“Well, come on, speak your mind.”

“Sir…” replied Robinson, “we need help. We need manpower, we need weapons, and we need the resources to make this mission happen, or we’re just pissing in the wind.”

Taylor nodded in agreement. “Then you have my word. I'll get us the support we need."

Taylor rushed back into Dupont’s bunker.

"I need to talk to General Heath in Pittsburgh. You can make that happen, can't you?" he demanded.

"Probably, but I don't know what good it will do you, Colonel."

"You let me worry about that. You haven't got the resources to give me, fine. But you need to help me get them elsewhere."

Dupont turned to his comms officer and nodded in agreement to carry out Taylor's request. They stood waiting for several minutes before they finally got a response from Pittsburgh.

"I'm sorry, but General Heath is not available at this time," a voice replied.

"Taylor rushed across the room, stopped the comms operator from speaking, and did so himself.

"This Colonel Mitch Taylor. Get the General on the line immediately," he commanded.

The line went quiet, and they waited for thirty seconds before a response finally came through.

"Taylor, where the hell are you?" Heath asked.

"Sir, I'm here with General Dupont in Northern France, but that doesn't matter. What matters is we have an opportunity to..."

"Opportunity!" screamed Heath, "Goddamn it, Taylor, you left your post and left this fight! Get your ass back here now!"

"Can't do that, Sir. What I'm doing here is too important."

"I'll tell you what is important, Colonel, the survival of the United States and its people. We need every goddamn fighting man and woman in this country on side and with a rifle in hand. You need to get some perspective here."

"Yes, Sir, perspective is exactly what I have. If I can have just a few moments of your time."

Heath gave a long and drawn out sigh and finally answered, "You've got one minute to explain yourself, and if I'm not convinced, I want you on a ship back here, got it?"

Taylor ignored the question because he could not rightfully accept the deal when he knew he might well have to break it.

"Sir, we have a chance to end this with one precision strike."

"What are you talking about?"

Taylor turned to Dupont. "Is this line definitely secure? I mean, beyond all doubt."

Dupont nodded, and Taylor had to gamble on the fact he was right.

"Sir, I know where Erdogan is. I want to take a shot at taking him out, but I need help."

"That it?" Heath asked.

Taylor looked to Dupont and shrugged in surprise.

"I have no time for your wild ideas, Taylor. We've got a war on our hands, like nothing we've ever seen before. We need you. Your people need you. Get back here and do your duty."

"Negative, Sir. I will do my duty, but if that conflicts with your orders, then so be it."

"You will obey my command, Colonel."

"No, Sir, I won't. I fought alongside you because our paths coincided, but I am not under your command."

"You can't just pick and choose which orders you follow, Colonel. You are an officer in the United States Marine Corps!"

Taylor hit the end transmission button, and it instantly cut off before the General could condemn him further.

"Any other day, I'd say you should follow the orders of your command chain. But now I know why you do what you do. Your passion burns deep, and you always do what you believe is best. You're not always right, but I respect your motivation," Dupont said.

"Thanks, I guess," he replied.

"I am under no illusions that the mission I am asking you to undertake is a suicidal one, but you need to know I have no agenda in doing so, except what we all share; a will to win and survive as a species. I wish you every luck, Taylor, and I have every confidence in you."

Taylor looked over at Jones. He still had his head buried in a screen and had been oblivious to his presence and discussion throughout. He knew his friend was useless to him while the chance of getting Dubois back remained a possibility.

* * *

Two hours later Taylor stood before a small civilian craft as Rains made a few last patches to it. He stood in a simple pair of cargo trousers and leather jacket now. The only weapon he carried was his sidearm, and that was concealed in a shoulder holster he had acquired from Dupont's stores. The others had done likewise, though Rains had the smallest changes to make to blend in as a civilian.

"Stow all our armour and weapons aboard. We will surely need them," he said to Lewis.

 
"We’re really flying into enemy territory like this, in that thing?" Robinson asked.

"Hey!" Rains shouted, "She's my girl, and I won't hear a word against her!"

"Where did you even find her?"

"She was one of the base officer’s personal transports until she was laid up last year. She's done some distance. Well run in."

It was a small copter, just large enough for eight people and a little cargo. Its dark navy paintwork had faded from years in the sun, and it displayed no markings of any kind.

"She really flies?" Taylor asked.

"Oh, sure. By all accounts she's solid. She just got replaced by a newer model, from what I hear."

"She looks twenty years old," Lewis joked.

"Twenty-two, I believe," replied Eddie, as he turned to face Lewis and smiled.

"You think this is a good idea, Sir?"

"I can't see a problem with her, Robinson. Looks solid to me."

"I meant overall, Sir. I wouldn't mind crossing the Channel in this bird, but going into enemy territory. She has no weapon systems, no counter-measures, no armour, and she can probably be outrun by everything out there."

"But she'll get us there," Eddie added.

"Yeah, we aren't blundering through the border, Corporal. We're slipping past unnoticed. Can you think of a better ship to do that in?"

"We're about good to go," stated Rains.

They climbed aboard, but none of them could quite believe they were really going ahead with it.

"I hope you've got a good plan, Sir."

"I've got a plan for sure, Robinson, but how good it is only time will tell."

Taylor hit the door button, but nothing happened at all.

"Yeah...the uh, hydraulics are out on a few non-essential items!" Eddie called from his cockpit.

"Good start," muttered Taylor, as he grabbed the door and wrenched it shut. He slid down the manual door lock and sat down with the other two. It was such a small craft; he was just half a metre behind the pilot’s chair when he took a seat.

As they lifted off, Eddie looked back and asked, "All right, it's just us now, so what's the plan?"

"We need manpower and support. We can't get it from our side, so we'll have to get it inside Germany."

Rains shook his head. "You ain't got no friends over there no more, have you?"

"That's where you're wrong Rains. After the Moon was finally abandoned, the US donated the remains of the Ramstein base as a new home for them."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, why would I?"

"Okay, so you reckon Kelly will help?"

"He’d better. He owes us both, big time."

Rains turned back to the controls and had them on their way in no time. It took them just thirty minutes to reach the border. They could see lines of military vehicles, both alien and UEN, but more than anything were civilians.

"Look at them, passing the enemy by as if it's just another day."

Taylor got up to stand beside Rains and look out for himself.

"What else would you have them do? Not like they can fight back."

Most of the civilian movement was heading into Germany.

"But the Krys, they are letting them live?"

"Yes, Erdogan is keeping us fighting each other. He realised we are too strong when unified. He's probably promised the UEN leaders everything under the sun."

"None of which he will deliver."

Taylor nodded in agreement.

"I can't believe they are falling for that shit. Have they forgotten the wars we fought across these countries so recently?"

"Most people don't want to remember. They just want to be left to live in peace. They're only siding with whoever they think will bring an end to their suffering."

"And what do you think, Sir? Should we keep on fighting?" Robinson asked yet another question.

He turned around to see the other two peering over his shoulder.

"Damn right we should. Day we give up is the end of us all. The moment Erdogan can seize power globally, he would have us killed in our sleep."

"You sure?" Lewis asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure," he snapped.

"And if we kill this Erdogan, you think it would bring an end to the fighting, Sir?"

Taylor shook his head. "No, Lewis, but I think it would be a start."

"A start?" asked Robinson, "We've been fighting these wars for years, have we not even achieved a start yet?"

Taylor looked at them and could see the desperation in their faces.

"We won those wars and won them well, don't you forget it. This is a new war, and what we did before it counts for shit if we can't win this one."

"We're about half a klick from the border now," Rains interrupted him.

Taylor turned his attention to the view ahead of them. They could see anti-aircraft emplacements on the ground, and a number of UEN ships patrolling the border above them.

"You better hope they don't know who we are now, as running ain't an option," Eddie added.

"We'll be fine."

"Yeah, why’s that?"

"Because we always are, because we've done everything right, and because it's our destiny."

"Destiny? Holy shit I never took you for a religious man."

"I'm not. But we both know, when all is said and done, I have to face Erdogan. It will happen. It has to happen."

"And that helps us here, because?"

"Because this isn't our end, not even close. We have too much left to do."

Rains shook his head at the logic.

"Here it is."

He held his breath as they cruised on over the border amongst a line of other ships of all sizes.

"They don't even seem to care," said Eddie.

"Why would they? What have they got to worry about?" Robinson asked.

"Yeah, Mechs are doing the fighting for them. As far as they're concerned, they can just sit back with the popcorn and enjoy the show," replied Taylor.

"If a little light genocide is your kind of thing, yeah," joked Rains.

Taylor smiled just a little until he realised how sad but true Rains was. A UEN fighter suddenly soared into view and matched their speed to inspect them visually. Taylor quickly ducked back from the cockpit.

"This ain't good, Eddie," he said, as he sat back down and hoped.

"Take it easy. It's just a fly by."

Taylor could feel the sweat dripping down his face. A shame after he'd washed off the dirt and grime before changing into civilian attire, but he knew he wouldn't stay clean for long.

"What are they doing?" he asked.

"Just checking us out. Seeing if I look legit."

"Legit what?"

He looked over to the pilot in the fighter who was just fifteen metres beside them and smiled.

"Checking out if I'm a civi or not."

Rains gave him the thumbs up and waved to play the fool.

"I don't think you were ever at risk of looking like you have ever worn a uniform."

"I'll take that as a compliment."