Battle Earth IX

Chapter 2

Taylor was looking at the Mappad on his arm, which told him they were a little over a thousand klicks from the Florida coastline.

Believe it when I see it, he thought.

Mitch hadn't been stateside in a long while now, and last time he had, it hardly felt like home. He looked up to see his comrades looked as weary as he did. More than twenty of them were sitting atop one of the many pieces of debris from the Nassau. It looked like one of the double skinned interior walls and at least had good buoyancy.

"Reckon anyone is coming for us, Mitch?" asked Parker.

It was the question on everyone's mind.

"I've tried every channel I can, can't reach a soul."

"Can't be easy to miss a battleship plummeting to Earth," Eddie grinned.

"On any other day you'd be right. But today, who's counting how many ships have entered the atmosphere? It's chaos everywhere."

"Well, you're a beacon of hope."

As Parker said it, they heard a roar of engines in the sky and looked up half expecting to see Mech forces descending upon them. Taylor lifted his hand to shield his eyes from the sun's rays and squinted to make them out. He stood up and gripped his rifle with his other hand, but he quickly recognised they were not of alien construction. One of the ships descended to just two metres above the water, and a lower hull door opened, revealing Captain King in the entrance.

"Looks like you need a ride?"

Taylor couldn't believe their luck, though he knew deep down it wasn't luck at all. He had good people he could depend on.

"Your timing is impeccable."

"Well whatta ya know, takes the Rangers to save leathernecks from the wet stuff. Don't ever think you'll be living this one down."

Taylor smiled in response and could not help but take it in good spirits, after having been left adrift on the ocean. He looked around to at King's other ships hauling crew from the water. He took a running jump and leapt up into the doorway with the Captain.

"What are your orders, Colonel?" he asked.

He looked overhead to see three huge enemy craft looming over them and heading west for the east coast of the United States. He looked back across the open ocean to the east and thought of the friends they had left there, but he knew what he had to do.

"Too long have we fought on foreign soil; good old US of A needs us, whether she knows it or not. Set a course for Quantico. We're heading home."

"Quantico?" King asked.

"Last I knew it's where General White was. We ain't exactly on best terms, but he's as good as any place to start. Contact them once we're en route to alert them of our arrival."

"Comms are jammed. We've got a few klicks range and that's about all."

"Well that's fucking great. Nice to know some things never change."

As Sergeant Lang came aboard, King looked out at the other crew of the Nassau still lying stranded at sea in life pods and various other pieces of debris.

"What about them? We can't take many more."

Taylor looked out and could see a ship's silhouette in the distance.

"Make a fly past of whatever that vessel is, and alert them to the crewmembers that need recovering."

"And if they don't want to get involved? Can't even see if it's one of ours from here, could just as well be civilian."

"I don't give a shit who it is. There are people in the water who need help, and they're gonna give it."

Two hours later the coast of America was in sight. Taylor knew he should be glad to see it, but he wasn't. In the distance to the south, he could see enemy vessels over Norfolk and a similar sight over New Jersey to the north.

"What do we do?" asked King.

They were standing in the cockpit with the pilot and co-pilot, astonished by what they were seeing and looking for direction.

"Continue as planned. There'll be whole divisions slugging it out down there. We've done enough for now."

"Enough?" King asked, "Hardly looks like it."

"Today the war became an entirely different animal, one we are all familiar with though. We need to get back to whoever is in command around here, and work out what the hell is going on and what we can do."

As they approached Quantico, a warning light flashed, and the pilot quickly piped up.

"We've just been locked by local air defences."

A transmission came in as they closed in to comms distance.

"Identify yourselves immediately, or you will be fired upon."

The pilot gave his credentials, and the line went silent.

"Hold position and await further communication. Do not enter Quantico air space until advised."

Taylor tapped the pilot's shoulder as he went to respond and stepped up to take over.

"Negative. This is Colonel Mitch Taylor of the Inter-Allied Regiment. We need immediate permission to land, do you hear me?"

There was silence once again for a moment and then a response.

"Negative, hold position and await instructions."

"We're coming in whether you like it or not. We have hundreds of US troops and allies aboard, and we ARE coming in."

Taylor gestured for the pilot to do as such, but he was frozen solid.

"Take us in," Taylor clarified.

The officer shook his head. "They'll shoot us out of the sky."

"Not a chance, trust me. Now do it."

He did as ordered, but his hands were shaking a little at the prospect of being blasted out of the sky by their own side. They began to surge forward, and the base was in sight now. They could see gun towers tracking their movement and missile silos with doors wide open.

"Sure about this?" King asked him.

"Not really," he whispered, "but we either go forward and risk being shot down, or go back where we'll definitely be fired upon."

"Rock and a hard place, then."

"Alter course immediately, or you will be fired upon!"

Nobody responded, so Taylor had to.

"This is Colonel Mitch Taylor. Get me General White immediately. The General will clear us to land."

"Hold your current position to confirm."

"That's a negative. We're coming in. If you can't confirm we are friendlies, that's your problem. We've just fought through hell to get back here, and I won't wait another minute to get down on the ground. If you want to be responsible for the deaths of hundreds of Americans and our allies, you pull the trigger. Otherwise, stand down and get the General on the line."

The comms went silent as they passed over the air space of Quantico, and they could see a few of the gun towers tracking their position. They were waiting for them to open fire at any moment when finally General White appeared on the screen before them.

"Taylor? That you?"

"Yes, Sir."

"What the hell are you doing, and where the hell have you been? Get your ass on the ground now!"

Taylor smiled. "Just what we've been trying to do, General."

"Well do it quicker."

The transmission ended, and finally a voice came over the comms once again and said sternly, "You are cleared to land at sector 19F."

"And you couldn't have just waited for that?" the pilot asked Taylor, "We could have had our butts blown out the sky there."

"And we would have been left hanging a few hours if we waited in line for them to go through proper channels."

They were soon on the ground, and as Taylor's boots hit the surface, his name was being called. A Lieutenant strode up and saluted him.

"Sir, General White requests your presence immediately."

"Yeah, thought he might."

Taylor looked around at their surroundings. They were on home soil, but he didn't recognise it. He'd not been to Quantico in as long as he could remember.

"Sir, I must insist on haste, as was made clear to me by the General."

He looked back to King and Jones; both were waiting for his command.

"You can be guaranteed we'll be heading for the eye of the fucking storm before long, so get whatever food, rest, and supplies you can."

"So eloquently put," Jones replied.

The Lieutenant didn't say another word as he drove Taylor to a command and control facility. He was shown through without a single check into a command centre that was packed out with projection displays and several dozen personnel. General White stood at the head of a large table with his command staff surrounding him. He looked up and shook his head when he saw Taylor approaching.

"Colonel, what the hell happened up there? I don't know whether to arrest you or give you a goddamn medal."

"Then do neither, Sir."

White shook his head once again and took in a deep breath.

"You're a son of a bitch, Mitch, but don't ever forget you are our son of a bitch."

He relaxed a little as he leaned against the table and looked at the 3d relief map projected before them. It showed enemy craft in real time, and he could see air force fighter wings en route to engage.

"Nobody has heard from you since you took off to disable the Earth Defence Grid. The results of which are mostly clear, but I have been authorised to conduct a debriefing for the President. Make it quick," said White.

Taylor looked around, and all eyes were now on him.

"It was a trap. There was no way we could disable all those weapons. All we could do was destroy them. Which we did, and is precisely what Erdogan wanted."

"How do you know that?"

"Because he came to me, as a hologram or whatever. He's mocking us, and he has a right to. He led us exactly where he wanted to, and look where we are now."

"So that's it?"

"That's all that's important."

White nodded. He clearly hadn't expected any better news.

"So it is Erdogan this time?"

"Afraid so. But he's the one, the one that holds it all together. We finish him, and it’s over for good."

"I think we have more imminent concerns right now."

Taylor looked shocked.

"We're losing ground fast. We are getting reports of enemy forces throughout the United States and EA nations. It's a mess, Mitch. Honestly, I don't know if we can make it through this one."

Taylor was taken aback and looked around expecting some of the other officers to call him up on his defeatist attitude, but he could see they were no different.

"The invasion isn't even a day through yet, and you are giving up?" he asked them all.

Nobody responded.

"We are fighting and dying out there while you lot cry and cower in your bunker. Well, fuck you, fuck you all."

White was ashamed enough that he did not answer, despite Taylor's ridicule. The room was silent as everyone waited for Taylor to continue and give them some answers.

"We have just one choice here. We fight or we die. I didn't fight all these years to lie down and die now after all that. Can you honestly tell me that everything we did these past few years was for nothing? No, we have beaten these bastards more than once. We've beaten everything they have thrown at us, and now is the final hurdle. Erdogan himself."

"What do we do?" asked one of the other officers at the table.

"What we always do, stand and fight," Taylor quickly retorted.

"If you'd not destroyed our defences, maybe we wouldn't have to be fighting on our own soil," snapped one of the other Generals.

Taylor turned and looked in disgust at the man who he didn't recognise. The General was a good few pounds overweight and looked like a man who'd never seen combat in his life. His face was red and sweaty, which only exaggerated the shine on his baldhead. He was all Taylor despised in armchair generals.

"Yeah, and maybe if I'd not gone up there, Washington would be a wasteland right about now, along with a dozen or more cities around the World. I did what had to be done. I'm not saying it was the perfect solution, but it was the best of a bad bunch."

"You have single-handedly opened up the doors for this invasion which could be the end of us all!"

"Well you pompous, arrogant, naive asshole!" Taylor yelled.

"Enough!" White boomed.

He looked to the General. His face was fuming.

"General Gomez, the last thing we need right now is to be arguing over what might have been. And you, Colonel, you may be a valuable asset, but that does not make you above the chain of command or beyond common courtesy. What is quite clear is that we need to go forward, and that will not happen while we stand here having a pissing contest."

They all now looked to White for answers.

"As you are all well aware, the enemy comms jamming caused us some serious issues. We still have direct feeds operational to DC and most of the East Coast bases. National Guard in New York is taking an absolute beating, and the marines in Norfolk are having it just as bad. We do not expect either location to hold beyond the day."

It was a shock to Taylor. He'd spent so long fighting on foreign soil that the prospect of American cities being fought over was utterly alien to him. He knew such battles had been fought before, but he had never been in such proximity that it felt so real.

The General opened his mouth to speak, but before he got another word out, a warning light flashed, and a siren sounded throughout the room. They all looked around for answers, but the live update information on the map before them displayed the danger. More than a dozen enemy vessels were approaching, and the base defences that had come so close to firing upon Taylor and his unit were already lit up. Missile trails and tracers lit up the map as the fight played out like a video game.

"Sir, troops and armoured vehicles are descending from incoming targets," stated one of the officers at a console beside the table.

"In what number?" White asked.

"Hard to tell, Sir, but we have detected well over three hundred Mechs to the east perimeter and more closing in from the south."

"I want everyone on base able to walk armed and at their stations immediately!"

He looked back to Taylor.

"How many men have you got with you?"

"A few hundred."

"Will they fight?"

"Always."

"Then we need you. Head to the southern perimeter and do what you do best."

"Yes, Sir," Taylor replied with a smile.

The situation sucked and Mitch was well aware of it. But heading out to fight Mech warriors was a relief after being confined to petty arguments in the stuffy Command and Control Centre. He pulled on his helmet and strode out of the building to find the Lieutenant who had driven him there still waiting beside his vehicle.

"You got a weapon?"

"I can draw one, Sir."

"Then do it now. I'm taking your ride."

Taylor threw his rifle in through the open-sided light vehicle and climbed in before the Lieutenant could argue. Mitch stamped on the gas, and the jeep raced forward, but he couldn't hear the almost silent engine over the screams of marines nearby and explosions igniting around the complex. He remembered the way back to where he had landed, and only hoped to find his comrades still in the vicinity. Pulses soared through the sky and smashed into buildings around him. He could see one coming right for him almost in slow motion. He quickly snapped the steering to avoid it.

The lightweight unarmoured vehicle went up and on its side wheels and to the apex of tipping. Taylor leaned out and used his bodyweight to keep it from rolling over. The vehicle crashed back down onto the ground, and he held onto the steering for dear life as the rear end fishtailed a little before coming back into line. The little jeep wasn't built for this. It was a light, fast utility, and the last thing he wanted to be in when the firing started.

Another pulse as large as his vehicle smashed into the ground in front of him, creating a half-metre deep crater. His jeep dropped down into it and then ramped up and out the other side, launching the wheels off the ground. As he landed, he could see airborne Mechs descending around him. He picked up his rifle with one hand, rested the barrel over the front cowl, and fired on full auto at one that landed next to him. Three shots penetrated its armour before he rammed the creature.

The thick rail design construction caused the jeep to initially knock the dead Mech to the ground and then ramp over it, lifting two side wheels off the ground once again. He took a bend up ahead and slid around the corner where he found a line of troops dug in at a five-metre high wall with towers every twenty metres. Turreted heavy weapons on the towers were firing as quickly as their autoloaders would allow them. He brought the jeep to a halt and immediately heard his name being called. "Taylor!"

He turned. Parker was crouching in the doorway of a building to his right. He jumped out of the jeep and had gotten only three metres from it when a pulse struck it dead on. The explosion launched him into the air, tossing him into the building where Parker was positioned. He landed hard but quickly huddled up beside her for protection. He looked back at his vehicle, and nothing more than a few twisted pieces of roll bar and a single wheel were still recognisable.

"You okay?" screamed Eli, grabbing him and looking over his body for injuries.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he said, trying to regain his senses.

"Guess we came to the wrong place!" she yelled.

"I figure we're exactly where we need to be," he replied dryly.

She couldn't help but smile at his optimism.

"Where is everyone?"

"Scattered. King is up on that wall helping with the defences. Jones is keeping an eye on the Nassau crew and marines we brought back. Last I saw, Silva was with him. Most of my platoon is here with me."

"Which way is Jones?"

She pointed, and he rushed on without another word. He took a corner and found Jones standing guard over the German marines and sailors as if they were POWs. They had their backs to the wall, blocking their line of sight from the southern wall and providing some protection.

"Guess we're bolstering the defences?" he asked Jones.

"You got it."

He looked over at the German weapons stacked at a far wall. Taylor immediately strode up to Sergeant Lang.

"You've seen what we're up against," he looked around and spoke up to address them all, "I'll be frank. We took some losses up there against UEN forces. Losses we could not afford. But you lot stood with us when we needed it most. The Inter-Allied Regiment is not an EA Regiment, not a UEN Regiment, nor an American Regiment. We stand for the defence of Earth, no matter which nation you come from. I am gonna make you all a onetime offer. Right now you are prisoners of war. You may continue as such and hope we win this war while you sit it out in a cell. Or you can join us. Take up your weapons and join the Regiment. What do you say?"

"You would have us?" Lang asked in surprise.

"You all showed you could handle yourselves up there. I need fighters. You want to live. I think it's a more than fair deal. The sailors among you will be reassigned to whatever craft of ships when we get them. But I expect every one of the personnel under my command to take up a rifle and use it. So what'll it be?"

Lang looked around to his comrades for their approval but could already see they were of one mind. He turned back to Taylor and simply replied rather succinctly, "Yes."

"Then welcome to the war. You will all retain your rank, and for now, Sergeant, you will command your comrades as a platoon under my Company."

"Thank you," he replied, following it with a salute.

"Grab you weapons, and get your asses in this fight!"

They rushed for the horde of weapons and gear as Jones stepped up beside Taylor.

"Sure this is a good idea?"

"We can't take prisoners, and we need all the help we can get. We won the last wars because humanity stood together. If we can't do it this time, what hope is there?"

Jones wanted to disagree, but as he did so, an explosion erupted above. Taylor looked up; a Mech ship was hurtling out of control towards them.

"Cover!"

He leapt down against the wall of the nearest building. The craft plunged into the upper floors, sending bricks and masonry falling down all around them. Mitch felt several bricks smash into his helmet and jolt his neck. He got up; the dust was settling, and the rest of them were getting to their feet. He looked around for the remnants of the craft, and there was a hole in a two-storey complex opposite where it had penetrated right through. He raised his rifle with suspicion.

A moment later his suspicions were confirmed. Three Mechs leapt through the breach and landed amongst them. Taylor's finger squeezed the trigger of his rifle as the first creature landed, and a line of automatic fire strafed mid section. The weapon the Mech carried was cut in two, but the shots didn't seem to penetrate its armour.

The weight of fire cut down one of the other creatures, but the unarmed one now rushed at him like a raging bull. He kept firing but only got a few shots off. It barged him with all its weight and sent him hurtling back through the wall he had been using for cover just a few moments before. Taylor's shield was ripped from his arm as he burst through the wall and landed firmly on his back.

He was staggering to get to his feet when the wall gave way further, and the creature stormed through to continue its assault against him. His hands were empty, so he reached quickly for his Assegai. As it bore down on him, it was riddled in the back from gunfire and fell hard before it was able to reach his position. He took a deep breath and sighed in relief, and then looked down at the creature that had proven so difficult to kill. Its armour appeared a little thicker and a different construction to what he had seen so many times before.

Jafar stepped through into the room and reclaimed his weapons. He tossed the dead creature over so he could look at it from the front. Taylor could hear the gunfire nearby had come to an end, but he was more than a little curious and concerned about the fallen enemy.

"I opened up on this one, and it did fuck all, what's the deal?" he demanded of Jafar.

His alien friend looked as surprised as he did and bent down to take a closer look.

"What's the deal?" Taylor asked impatiently.

"I have not seen this before."

"Not seen it? Well that's a big fucking help. A burst in the torso from a Reitech rifle did nothing; we need to know something, as this is gonna be a big ass problem."

Jafar raised his rifle and fired a point blank shot into the creature's sternum, and then knelt down to look at the impact. His fingers passed over the surface.

"The bullet has impacted and stopped."

"These are high AP rounds, how can that be? Must be some new tech."

"Is it such a surprise that the enemy would improve over time its weapons and equipment, just as we have?"

Taylor shrugged his shoulders. It made sense, but he still didn't like hearing it.

"How about the other Mechs out there? Same?"

"It took many shots to take them down."

"Casualties?"

"A few."

Taylor stepped back out through the hole he had been thrown to hear the sound of war was now all around. Explosions and volleys of gunfire were especially frequent towards the south wall, and pulses continued to smash their positions from the enemy ships above, providing brutal ground support. One of the German sailors lay dead, and a marine was wounded, as well as one of their own being patched up. They looked to him for something.

"They've up armoured, up gunned, and upped their game. If we want to win this war, we're gonna have to do the same, just as we always have. But right now, we have to survive."

As he said it, a pulse struck the ground only a metre from him, and he looked up at more Mechs descending from the sky.

"Incoming!" he yelled.

They all scattered for cover, and Taylor leapt partially into the hole he had been thrown in before. He took aim and fired several shots into one of the Mechs, killing it instantly. But as he took aim at his next target, he noticed the new armour pattern once again. He fired several shots, but none seemed to penetrate.

"Goddamn it!" he muttered to himself.

As the creature landed, he took aim at its head, firing a three-shot burst, but two were deflected from the sloped and pointed faceplate while the third seemed to embed but not go through. He let his rifle drop to his side, drew out his Assegai, and rushed at the alien; his shield held forward and tilted back to try and deflect energy. He felt a pulse strike it and saw the light particles burst past either side of his shield. A second later he barrelled into the Mech soldier, and it felt good to be the one dealing out some punishment.

The impact was enough to knock the Mech back a few paces, but it quickly got its footing and ground to a halt. Taylor could feel the mass of the creature because he would have been able to throw a normal Mech over with such a ferocious charge. He hooked a thrust around the edge of his Assegai and felt it meet the creature’s armour, though he could not see where.

Without warning, a thunderous strike smashed into his shield. Taylor felt it break in the centre, and he heard a crunch and felt his left arm go numb; the numbness and tingling sensation was immediately followed by pain surging up through his arm, and he felt it droop. His arm was broken, for sure, but he could not pause to check it. He looked back, and the Mech was swinging its weapon like a huge club at his head. He ducked under the strike and drove his Assegai up into its torso, stabbing again and again until the Mech began to slump.

The creature was collapsing down towards him, and he spun around just in time to avoid being crushed beneath its corpse. He immediately cupped his injured arm with the other and retreated back against a wall. He saw Jafar snap one of the Mech's arms, the armour plating tearing apart, and he drove an Assegai through the open plate.

The air was thick with the smell of sweat, blood, and scorched flesh. It was what Taylor hated worst about war, the acrid smell and taste of it. Parker rushed to his side, and he could see the concern in her face.

"You all right?"

He nodded.

"No really, Mitch, don't bullshit me!"

"I'm fine. Left arm is fucked, but I'm fine."

She looked down at the joint of his Reitech suit. It was snapped at the elbow and barely held together. It was clear to both of them it had been all that had stopped his arm being snapped in two. She ran her hand over his arm to feel for the injury and stopped as he winced.

Gunfire raged all around, and Mitch was glad to see his people were fighting as hard as ever. His attention was drawn to Sergeant Lang who was in the thick of the action and proving himself a worthy member of the unit.

"We gotta get you out of here, Mitch," said Parker.

He grunted in disapproval, still keeping a firm grip on his Assegai and with plenty of fight left in him.

"You're no good to us like this. Come on, follow me," she stated, looking around for an opening to get him out.

"Medic!" she screamed.