Overlord (70 page)

“Good show, targeting, that’s the way to hold off and draw the bangers in. You got quite a few of the buggers with that one,” Freemantle said just as an enormous explosion threw him and the rest of the bridge crew forward, even snapping the safety harnesses of some.

At three hundred miles the processing saucers and the power-distribution vessel opened fire with their vastly superior laser cannon. The forward number one gun blew up as the first strike hit the Argon delivery system. The resulting cataclysm engulfed the battle bridge and the superstructure from frames twenty-one to forty. The HMS
Garrison Lee
was now a hurtling ball of flame as she approached the largest ships at the center of the armada.

Before anyone could realize it, six of the smaller attack saucers made a suicide run for the stern of the
Lee.
They slammed into her graceful and curved fantail where the United Nations flag stood out straight, and exploded into the thinly armored rear. A catastrophic explosion rocked the
Lee
from her stern section all the way to her forward areas. The remaining four engine bells blew outward as her power plant was struck. The ripple effect of so much energy traveled to the areas of least resistance, downward into the bowels of the great warship. The resulting explosion snapped the
Lee
’s hardened back in two as her bow sank fifty degrees. Her large deflector plow was now at a downward angle as the battleship continued to push forward in a blind desire to hit the power-replenishment vessel, which was now helpless to get out of the way. One of the five hundred crewmen ejected into the freezing void of space was Captain Lienanov, who died bravely with the men he had been assigned inside the power plant section.

Freemantle was assisted back down to the deck by Jack and Tram as they fought to get the commodore to his station. The ship was rocked again as turrets four and five exploded from the immense heat buildup after the cannons were refused the coolant they so needed to freeze the hot barrels. The resulting backlash of energy traveled throughout the ship and she shuddered under the stresses of coming apart. The great battleship heeled to port and then seemed to magically correct its trajectory, as if with a mind of its own it was intent to finish the task.

The estimation by Matchstick, that the
Garrison Lee
could only last fifteen minutes against the Grays, magnificently exceeded his prediction. The
Lee
had lasted twenty-five minutes and had destroyed well over seven hundred of the invincible armada.

Commodore Freemantle was seriously injured as Jack and Tram strapped him back down. The noise inside the bridge was nearly unbearable as the venting of O
₂
started in earnest. Men, women, and debris were flying around as if a tornado had erupted inside the enclosed spaces. Freemantle hung onto Jack, his face shield misting over with escaping gas and blood.

“Maneuvering thrusters to full, ram the bloody bastard!” he said as loudly as he could into his 1MC mic.

In the vacuum of space it’s impossible to feel the forward momentum of any hurtling object, but the surviving crew of that day would swear they felt the
Lee,
with her last remaining working thrusters, shoot forward. The power-replenishment saucer actually saw the
Lee
bearing down on it from six miles but could do nothing about it as the downward-angled deflector plow slammed into the strange metal skin. The resulting deceleration threw every surviving crewman forward and killed many of the remaining men and women. Jack Collins lost his handhold on both the commodore and Tram as he was tossed like a flying rocket into the now blank view screen. The
Garrison Lee
and her sharpened deflector plow were now lodged deep inside the two-mile-wide saucer. The giant battleship would never move again.

*   *   *

Everett saw that there was no use in checking the vital signs of the Marine colonel and her copilot. The large girder had pierced the windscreen of the number one shuttle, impaling both. They sat in their seats, never knowing what hit them after the destruction of the engine room spaces. Everett saw that the damage the attack shuttle sustained was beyond repair, and floated back to the men in the cargo bay. Two of the insertion team was wounded as the thick-tiled skin of the shuttle had been penetrated by flying metal. Their suits had vented and they had almost succumbed to the harsh environment before adhesive patches could be placed over the punctures in the outer skin.

“What a mess,” the admiral said as he started getting the remainder of his men moving. “Sergeant, you and Haley get to the rescue stations and jettison, that’s an order. Your suits are too damaged. I’ll ingress with the assault team.”

Carl looked around at the shaken men as he searched the wreck for the special weapons that had broken free of their restraining straps. He saw them floating toward the rear bulkhead and ordered them secured.

“Lieutenant, get on the comm link and find out how number two shuttle is. If we’ve lost her too, we’re truly fucked.”

“Aye, sir.” The SEAL officer hastily unstrapped after the massive explosion only three hundred feet above their shuttle bay. “Tell Jenks we’re dead in the water over here and two men short.”

“Done. The rest of you get the special packages out of here before this entire bay breaks loose. We need cable, lots of it.”

“Jenks reports they’re shaken and stirred but not broken, Admiral.”

“Good, the number one shuttle must have shielded them from the main blast. Inform the master chief there’s been a change of plan. We need to hitch a ride.”

The remaining twelve men looked at the admiral for the barest of seconds.

“Move, damn it, before we’re vented out of the damn ship!”

Before Carl realized it, Jason Ryan was in the open hatch, gesturing for the men to step it up.

“Hurry, gentlemen, hurry, we have Grays docking with this wreck. We’re out of time. The rest of the
Lee
’s crew is evacuating. Move, move, move!”

Jason assisted each man with their loads of weapons and ordnance from the wrecked bay of the first shuttle. He waited on Everett and assisted the big man free, then turned to help the men find added cable for their ride on the remaining shuttle. Jenks had quickly explained Everett’s makeshift plan, as they both thought along the same lines in a split second of consideration.

“The rest of you get to number two shuttle, now!” Carl said into his internal microphone. “Duct tape those packages to your suits; we can’t afford to lose any of them.”

The men were again shocked at the order. This was turning into a real high-tech endeavor. Another explosion rocked the stern of the
Lee
as three of the ion gas-mixing chambers burst and sent a high-heat energy wave outward, engulfing two saucers as they tried to dock with the flaming battleship. The men were knocked around and one of the Israeli weapons broke free of a SEAL’s grip and headed straight at Ryan’s faceplate. He batted at it and slammed to the deck in the zero gravity. He cussed and then easily tossed the two-hundred-pound yellow box back to the SEAL.

“Try and hang onto that damn thing, okay?” The SEAL took the package and started hand over hand for the undamaged bay thirty feet away.

Everett floated up to Ryan, tossing him a five-hundred-pound coiled cable. Ryan caught it, but the force of the blow almost sent him through the large hole that looked out onto the oxygen-fed burning superstructure.

The minute they gained the access port to the bay Everett started unreeling the thin cable. “Hook to your backpack harnesses. We’re going space skiing.”

Jenks was leaning out of the forward hatch of the number two shuttle with his gloved hands taking a tight grip of the frame.

“In case you boys didn’t realize it, we have a shitload of ugly bad guys breathing down our necks. Now get hooked up and be sure you’re clear of the main engine bell and the thrusters.” He eyed Everett. “And don’t think I’ll forget you fucked up another one of my boats, Toad, you shithead!”

The master chief vanished before the middle finger of Carl’s gloved hand shot up.

“And to think I almost forgot what a lovely man he was.” Ryan hooked up the last Delta man to the lifeline. “Now for God’s sake, take a firm hold on the running rail of the dorsal or we’ll lose the bunch of you!” Jason slapped Everett on the top of his helmet. “Good luck, buddy.” He shot off toward the cockpit just as the inducers kicked in for the main engine.

Everett floated to the top of the shuttle and then made sure his team was secure. He knew they had just cut their chances by half as the second shuttle would have to travel twice the distance with the same amount of fuel, and that wasn’t enough.

Before he could think further the attitude jets started pushing attack shuttle number two toward the still-closed bay doors.

“Goddamn it, Jenks!” he screamed. He knew the master chief was just showing off. Ten feet before the crumpled doors smashed the shuttle’s stern, the doors slowly creaked open and the shuttle was free.

Attack element Pershing entered a kill zone of saucers.

*   *   *

The commodore was dying and Jack could see that. He and Tram lifted him to his station once more as the fifth explosion of the number three armory went up.

“We have to cover the assault element,” Freemantle said in a barely audible whisper. “We have to order the remaining rail gun and laser cannon crews to remain at their stations.” He pushed his way along the rail toward the damage control station. He harshly shoved a dead technician away as he floated over the shorting-out computer boards. He looked closely at the computerized silhouette of the
Garrison Lee.
He quickly saw that they had little hope of covering the assault teams as three quarters of the giant battleship were awash with flames that blazed even in the vacuum of space. “General, order rail guns six and ten to cover the remaining shuttle.” Freemantle hopes quickly dimmed when the computer told him shuttle number one had been disabled. “We have to give those chaps all the help we can.”

Jack pulled the commodore away and said into the command mic the orders the commodore had spoken. He felt a shattering vibration rend the ship as the two remaining rail guns opened up on the six saucers that were tracking the fast-departing shuttle. He prayed that Carl and Jason were onboard the surviving craft. Round after round of high-strength tungsten steel blasted the saucers before they knew they were being targeted.

“Gentlemen,” Freemantle hissed through broken teeth. “Get my people clear now. The remaining gun crews will stay their post and cover the shuttle and the escape pods.”

Collins looked around and saw that most of the bridge crew was dead or just gone, vented out through the large holes in the pressure hull. He quickly gestured for the survivors to get out. He looked at Tram and then helped the commodore back to his command station.

“Thank you, gentlemen. I’ll be staying with my ship and crew. Tell them down below how they performed, will you?”

“Yes, sir.” Jack and Tram looked away from the dying Englishman. He watched hundreds of six-man pods eject from their small tubes as the crew abandoned ship.

“That’s my good chaps.” Freemantle leaned forward, unable to stay upright any longer. “Now, it’s time for you to leave the
Lee.
Good show, by the way.” And then Freemantle died.

As the remainder of the bridge crew went to the escape pod underneath the battle bridge, Jack looked at Tram.

“I don’t suppose it would do any good to tell you to get the hell out of here, would it?”

The Vietnamese lieutenant frowned as if he didn’t understand, then tapped his helmet, pretending a short in his communications.

“That’s what I thought, you’re just like Ryan and Mendenhall.” Jack shook his head inside his helmet. He quickly reached for the plastic laser rifle once owned by the dead SAS sergeant. “Well, let’s go and see if we can get a few of those pale-skinned bastards.”

Tram smiled, clearly understanding that order.

Collins looked out of the large hole in the bridge where the view screen used to be and saw the deflector plow dug deeply into the two-mile-wide saucer as smaller craft buzzed around it.

“Feel like taking a walk out there? Maybe we can find some targets inside. After all, we put the hole in the son of a bitch.”

Tram removed the M-14 from his back, charged the weapon, and nodded his head.

*   *   *

“Jenks, we need a place where there’s already a hole, got that?” Carl could swear he felt the speed of the shuttle as Ryan fired the main engine just as the two remaining rail guns took out the six saucers at their rear. The men inside the shuttle didn’t realize how close they had come to being destroyed a few seconds out, but the men hanging on for dear life had a front-row seat and stared with wide eyes at the expanding destruction around them.

“I thought I would tell Ryan to pull into the drive thru, Toad. Of course that’s what we’re doing, we’re dropping you off at the front door of this fucking thing!”

“I swear I’m going to kill that mean bastard if we live through this!”

Inside Ryan was trying desperately to avoid the saucers that zipped in and out of the burning superstructure. He rammed some of the floating debris and thought for a moment he had holed the shuttle.

“Now
you
get on my shit list, all right?” Jenks grimaced at the loud bang as a large chunk of destroyed saucer bounced off the nose of the small shuttlecraft.

“Master Chief, I’ve got an idea. This big bastard doesn’t have the shielding to defend against anything this small.” Jason used the small joystick on the left-hand armrest to avoid another large chunk of steel from the
Lee.
He tried not to notice the hundreds of floating bodies from the
Lee
as he dodged them the best that he could, but still heard the occasional thump as one of the crew would bounce off the shuttle’s tiled surface.

“Your point?” Jenks used his body to turn the shuttle as if his added weight would drive the ship farther to the left. “Damn it, do you have to hit every piece of crap in space?”