Battle Earth IX (6 page)

Taylor leapt from the edge and could feel the heat of the craft as it impacted and ignited on striking the tower. The blast propelled him further forward than he had expected, and he felt a heavy impact in the back plate of his armour. He was thrown onto the rooftop of a parked truck and slid off to the ground the other side. He tumbled several times, coming to a halt on his side.

Parker had seen the whole thing and still stood in shock. She had not even sheltered herself from the blast, and debris lay everywhere around her. She stepped forward to go where she had seen Mitch land, but two Mechs landed before her. There was no fear now left in her, for the only thing she cared about was Mitch. She rushed at the two Mechs, knowing it was overly ambitious. Her finger had already found the trigger as she took her first step and fired on the move.

As she rushed at the first creature, she caught a glimmer of movement out of the corner of her eye and saw Jafar descend on the other Mech like a pile driver and smash it down to the ground. He smashed the stock of his rifle through the faceplate, and blue blood burst out across the ground. By the time she had reached the other creature, she had emptied what was left in her magazine, and it was dead on its feet, but that did not stop her. She rushed into the Mech and knocked it stone cold dead into the blood soaked asphalt.

The impact with the creature knocked her a little off balance and spun her around, but she got her footing and kept running on towards Taylor. "Mitch!" Gunfire sounded around her, but she paid it no attention. She reached the truck he had landed on and could see a sizeable dent in the roof, but she kept going. She finally saw him, but he wasn't moving. He lay on his side, almost in a recovery position.

"Mitch! Mitch! No!"

She knelt down and shook him.

"Easy!" he suddenly croaked.

She took a sigh in relief and dropped her head down onto him, finding her helmet crashing into his armour. It was as close as she would get to affection in the heat of battle. She looked up and into his eyes.

"Are you okay? Can you move?"

He groaned.

"I don't know," he whispered quietly.

She looked terrified.

"Move, goddamn it!"

Jones arrived at the scene and rushed up beside them.

"You're still alive then, you silly bastard?"

Taylor nodded with a smile.

"Oh, come on, get up," Jones continued.

He reached up and grabbed Jones' armour around the neck, hauling himself up onto his feet. Taylor felt several bones in his body creek as he was forced to stand on his own feet and staggered a little. Only Jones' hold stopped him from toppling over.

"See, still standing," said Jones.

He let go, and Taylor's legs wobbled a little until he just about managed to stabilise himself. He could instantly see the worry in Parker's eyes.

"I'm fine, just a little shook up."

In fact, although his arm had been fixed, it still hurt like hell, but it was now just one in a long list of pains he could feel.

"What's the deal?" he asked, as if expecting Jones and Parker to have more information than him.

They all looked up; the enemy vessels in the air had been thinned out. Although fighting was still going on throughout the base, it seemed they were now in control. Taylor looked around to see more of his unit now surrounding him. They were all looking to him for answers, but he knew he had no good ones.

"We can't stay here. We may have held this attack off, but they'll be back. We need to find General White and work out what the hell is going on."

"I can see what's going on. We're getting a lashing."

Taylor couldn't disagree with Jones but tried to regain his composure.

"Parker, your platoon is with me. Jones, dig in here, and hold until I can work out what's going on."

Jones immediately leapt into action and began yelling his orders. Taylor strode forward. He was more than a little unstable on his feet, but he did everything he could to hide it and kept putting one foot in front of the other, hoping the forward motion would keep him going.

The base was in chaos. Troops were still attempting to sweep and clear all remaining Mechs. Wounded lay scattered amongst the dead, and vehicles lay strewn about in various conditions. Some of the wreckage was barely indistinguishable between human and alien creation; it was so twisted and wrecked. A fallen Mech in front of them began moving just a little, but a second later was met by a burst from Parker's rifle, which finished it for good.

"Nice," Taylor muttered.

A burst of gunfire rang out from a Mech pulse weapon. One of the heavily armed creatures was blazing away in the open while brushing off multiple shots from troops using cover all around to try and take it down. Taylor stopped for a moment with the intent to go and help, but before he could take another step, an armoured transport vehicle raced into view and struck the creature head on. The Mech was smashed down and run under the wheels of the heavy vehicle. Within seconds, a dozen troops stood over its body, emptying their magazines to finish it off.

"That's how to do it."

Taylor grunted. "Yeah, Parker, but we gotta find a few other ways of taking 'em down."

They carried on to where Taylor had last seen the Generals but found half of the building he had left was now flattened. Bodies were still being pulled from the ruins by surrounding personnel. He could see a few officers sitting about the rubble in shock.

"This doesn't look good," whispered Parker.

Taylor carried on towards them and was pleased to see one was General White. His uniform was cut at the arm, and blood was seeping out over the sleeve. He was covered in a thick coating of dust. He was simply peering out into the distance as if oblivious to all that was going on around him.

"General, General White!" Taylor said, stepping up in front of him.

White slowly turned and looked at Mitch, but his eyes were wide open, his expression a combination of terror and surprise.

"You okay, Sir?"

No response came for a few moments until White finally coughed and cleared his throat. He was starting to come back to reality.

"What are your orders, Sir?"

He seemed confused and shook his head. Taylor leaned in closer.

"We need leadership right now, and that has to come from you. There are plenty around here who have had it a lot worse than you."

White nodded in agreement, and his eyes seem to show he was recovering his composure.

"Taylor? What are you still even doing here? You ain't a marine no more."

"I'm whatever I need to be, and I will always be a marine," he replied, reaching down to haul the General to his feet.

"So you'll stand with us?" asked White.

"Always."

He took in a deep breath, sighing as he regained his composure, and stood up a little taller and a little prouder.

"Much of my staff were killed here, and it looks like the personnel on base suffered about as bad."

"How's the rest of the coast doing? New York? Philly?"

"Both have fallen. Survivors of New York have gone inland. National Guard and Army regulars out of Philly are falling back on Baltimore. Last orders received were to support them there."

"Is that still the case?"

"It's as good a plan as any. At least we can amass some firepower in one place. Corps Reserves out of Harrisburg are on the way also, and anyone else who can make it."

"And if we circle the wagons, and they drop a tactical nuke or whatever shit they got like it, on our heads?" Taylor asked.

"I'd rather die fighting beside our own than picked off one-by-one."

"Fair enough, can't argue with that."

Taylor couldn't help but feel their situation was more desperate than it had ever been. They were better prepared and equipped, and yet were falling as quickly as the first invasion of Earth. The General looked around for any of his staff and reached out to the first one he recognised who was staggering past with her arm in a sling.

"I want every transport, every armoured vehicle, and every fighting man and woman loaded up and en route to Baltimore in the next thirty minutes."

The woman looked confused. She was a Lieutenant and clearly one of General White's personal staff.

"You heard the General," Taylor added.

"Aye, aye, Sir," she suddenly responded.

"What do you want of us?" Taylor asked White.

"Force recon, right? I want you to blaze a path to Baltimore for us. Think you can do that?"

"Hell, yes."

* * *

Taylor stood before the craft that had landed them on the base. One was almost cut in two by a crashed fighter, and the others being worked on by their crews, who were desperately trying to get them operational. He caught a glimpse of Rains atop the nearest one, and working on part of one of the turbines.

"This ain't even your bird!" Taylor shouted to him.

"Yeah, well, ain't got one, so it's as close as I can get!"

"Think you'll be airworthy in the next thirty minutes?"

He stopped what he was doing and looked at Taylor as if to ask, 'are you serious?' Taylor simply nodded in return.

"Do what I can!" he yelled back and went back at it.

Taylor was looking over the craft a little closer, and the weapon systems fitted which were few and far between.

"These craft are modular, right? Intended for a range of tasks and quick modification for an intended purpose?"

"Yes," replied King, standing beside him, "What have you got in mind?"

"I want every gun you can possibly find fitted on these birds."

"It's mostly open bay weapon platforms. We do that, and we're limited to low altitude work, and we definitely ain't getting out of the atmosphere."

"That's the last of our concerns right now, Captain. Every weapon system you can muster. "

King nodded in agreement and rushed off to carry out the orders. Within a minute, ground crews were stripping panels from the hulls and wheeling out weapons from a storage facility next to them. He turned around to Jones and Parker.

"Gather up any of our wounded who can still fight. We're taking them with us."

"That a good idea?"

He looked around at the destruction around them and bodies still being carried away.

"They'll be safer with us than anywhere else, Jones, and we need them as much as they need us."

He could see crews lifting heavy Reitech weapons onto the ships. It was as simple as removing metre-square panels in the hull and clamping the weapons in their place for human operation. It was primitive, but it would get them what he wanted.

"When we're up the air next time, I want to rain hell on whoever and whatever we encounter," he stated.

Twenty-five minutes later, the ships were ready to go. Four vessels were all they had, but each was equipped with six fixed guns on either side of the hull, as well as their nose-mounted cannons and missile launchers.

"Flying Fortresses," said Taylor.

"What?" Parker asked.

"No, he's right," added Rains, "The old B17s, fortresses in the sky."

"I got no idea what you're talking about," she replied.

Taylor only smiled in response as King strode up to them.

"We're ready to roll," he stated.

"Then what are you waiting for? Load up."

He turned to Jones and indicated for him to follow the same order, which he quickly did. Taylor turned and watched the orders issued across comms channels and their personnel leaping into action.

"You know this lot need rest, and so do you," Parker whispered in his ear.

It was true. His arm was still sore from the elbow to shoulder.

"We'll rest when we have time to," he replied softly. He then headed for the nearest craft, which the pilot had rather hurriedly hand painted the name 'Maya'. As he got aboard, he turned back to Jones.