Battle Earth IX

Chapter 3

The roof shook every few moments, and Taylor's hand crept nearer to the rifle lying on the table beside his bed.

"Leave it!" Parker shouted.

He leant back and sat upright on the bed he had been waiting on.

"My arm's fucked, not my body," he snapped back.

A pulse hit the roof and burst through, striking two of the beds occupied by wounded soldiers. Taylor leapt for cover as it landed, and fragments of the pulse burst across the room. They punched through the divider the other side of him, and he reached for his helmet with his good arm.

"I need two seconds with a doc, and I'll be back in action. Find me one!" he ordered.

Parker nodded in agreement and rushed off in search of one. They both knew he needed to be in the fight, and a few seconds later she reappeared, hauling a doctor by the collar of his coat while he protested.

"Please, there are people who need my help," he whimpered.

She shoved him towards Taylor and let go.

"Get the Colonel back in this fight, or these patients may not live long enough for any of your work to matter."

The doctor looked back and began to hesitate but was interrupted by Taylor's rather unsubtle cough to get his attention. The man looked around to see the Colonel sitting before him; the expression on Mitch's face instantly silenced him.

"All right, what do you need?"

"Fix my arm, Doc."

He looked at it for a minute and put pressure down in different areas. It wasn't a case of finding where his arm was wounded, but which part was the most damaged. Another explosion hit the roof of the building and sent a cloud of dust into the air.

"Haven't got all day, Doc. Get it done."

"I can fix it now, but it will be weak for several days at least, maybe a few weeks."

Taylor nodded in agreement.

The doctor pulled out a syringe and injected into his arm.

"We need to get all this off. I need the arm bare."

Taylor tried to unclip his body armour, but the pain was too much, and he gritted his teeth as he felt the shock through his body.

"Here, I'll get it," said Parker.

He didn't like being helpless, but he had no choice. She stripped the Reitech armour and suit from his upper body and pulled his shirt off. The doctor stopped in surprise at his body. It looked as if it was cut from steel. Years of training and war had shaped him into what looked like a professional ring fighter, but his skin was covered in bruising and old scars. The doctor could not help but stare.

"I ain't pretty, but I ain't a model either," Taylor stated.

Parker smiled.

"Lie down please," replied the doctor, snapping out of his daze, "I’ll need to get my equipment.”"

He did as asked by the doctor. Parker loomed over him and took his good hand in his.

"How do you do it?" she whispered.

"Do what?"

"Keep surviving?"

He had no answer for her. The doctor rushed back into the room, clearly trying to get it over with as quickly as possible so he could move on to other patients. He carried a device for resetting and repairing limbs and joints that Taylor had seen more than a few times, though he was still none the wiser as to how the wondrous machine worked. It was slipped over his arm and clamped in place at either end. It made him wince a little; the doctor was far from gentle at his rushed pace.

A screen lit up on the device showing an x-ray of his arm, and within a minute the doctor had programmed it ready. Lights lit up in the machine as it began to operate, and the man finally looked up to Taylor.

"In about five minutes time it will power down, and you will be finished here. Now please, Colonel, I must leave you and attend to others."

"All right, Doc, and thanks."

He scurried off. Taylor looked down at the machine and felt several needle like implements pierce his skin. A few seconds later he lost feeling in the arm, which at least deadened the pain, but it also dulled the rest of his senses and made him a little drowsy. He did his best to hide it from Parker, but she noticed. She opened her mouth to speak, but Taylor interrupted.

"Don't. I know what you're going to say, but there's no time for it."

She looked puzzled.

"I was just gonna say, we made it again."

Taylor smiled, but they heard another few eruptions outside the building that shook the ceiling.

"We aren't out of the fire quite yet."

Gunfire erupted a few metres outside the room, and Eli turned quickly, raising her rifle.

"Go to it!" Taylor said quietly.

She looked back and hesitated, but the determined look he responded with made her turn and do as ordered. Parker rushed through one of the hospital corridors that were littered with both wounded and dead. A few held rifles where they lay, but no one other than herself looked ready for a real fight.

"Shit," she muttered.

She edged forward more cautiously and felt her hands instinctively grip tighter around her rifle. Too tightly in fact, which made her swear at herself for not keeping calm and remembering her training. A wall collapsed in a few metres ahead. A soldier flew through it and hit the wall the other side of the corridor. She moved to go to his aid but stopped as more of the wall was smashed through, and a Mech rushed into view.

Before the creature could turn and face her head on, Parker's rifle was firing. She got off five shots as it snapped around, but the damage she had inflicted made it fire wildly. Pulses ripped through the corridor amongst the wounded. Parker shifted to the opposite wall and kept up the fire. Ten shots had penetrated the creature’s armour by the time she got within striking distance, and it dropped to its knees so that its head was in line with hers.

Eli did not hesitate or take any chances. Her rifle fired again, and a burst of shots ripped into the faceplate of the Mech; it slumped dead to the floor. She looked over to the soldier who had been thrown into the corridor and knelt down to feel his pulse, but he was gone. She shook her head and looked back down the corridor. Only two of the troops lining the sides were still alive, and they looked terrified.

Parker wanted to go back to them but knew she had a responsibility to go. She stepped over the body of her victim and continued on as the lights began flickering above. Gunfire still raged in the distance, but she could hear nothing of an enemy presence nearby, so much so it made her suspicious.

She took a bend into another ward and found dozens of wounded being attended to. She carried on through, heading for the main entrance of the facility. As she grew nearer, she found a wounded Ranger from their unit. He was sitting up against a doorway, with his rifle at the ready but clearly unable to stand. She could see corporal stripes on his uniform and recognised him as one of their own but not his name. He turned and acknowledged her as she approached.

"You all right?" she asked sympathetically, kneeling down at the far side of the door.

"Still breathing," he replied.

She looked closer to make out his name, 'Vidal, anyone else here with you?"

He shook his head and pointed over to the bodies of two marines who had clearly fallen very recently. She shook her head.

This place is turning into a fucking morgue!

"You just hold on, Corporal. We'll get you out of here."

"I ain't going anywhere anytime soon," he replied, with a small smile that could not hide the pain he was feeling.

Parker got to her feet and had to keep telling herself to go forward and towards the light of the open doors ahead. A trail of bodies, both alien and human, trailed all the way to the entrance and outside. As she reached the end of the corridor, she could hear a hive of activity outside and leapt to the sidewall, ready to fire at whatever came through.

Her heart almost stopped, and the lack of oxygen as she held her breath made her feel a little dizzy. A shadow appeared at the door, and a body followed it soon after. She lifted her rifle to fire, realising just as she was about to pull the trigger that it was Jones. She nearly fell over, quickly pulled her rifle back, and took a deep breath.

"Parker, you okay?" Jones asked, seemingly not bothered at all by the gun in his face. He looked more concerned for her safety than his own.

"Where is Taylor?" he asked more sternly.

She pointed to where she had come from.

"Getting fixed up."

"Lead the way."

She did as ordered but could not go on without asking questions.

"How is it out there?"

"Rough, but we're holding fast."

"So what's the plan?"

He shook his head. "Your guess is as good as mine. I don't even know who is in charge here."

They reached the wounded ranger, who was still waiting with his rifle at the ready. Jones did not even break stride but clearly recognised the man.

"You keep doing what you're doing, Corporal," he said to Vidal as he passed.

"Yes, Sir," he replied confidently.

It seemed cold and uncompassionate at first, but Parker could see the rise in Vidal's eyes, being addressed as a soldier and not a casualty. It impressed her. Her natural reaction was to ask after his wellbeing, when he clearly was able and willing to fight. They carried on past the body of the Mech she had killed and those of many more humans who had been killed by the aerial bombardments. Eli led them to Taylor's room, but as they went into it, she stopped and gasped. The bed was empty, and only the device Mitch that had been connected to his arm remained.

"Where is the Colonel?" Jones asked.

She was at a loss for words.

"Where the hell is he?"

She turned; realising Jones wasn't addressing her but merely venting his frustration.

"Captain Jones!"

They turned and rushed towards the sound of the call to a blown out window around the corner. They were two floors up, and rubble was dropping past their window from where the roof was being bombarded. Troops were still battling Mechs in the divide between them and the tall perimeter fence. It took a few seconds for either of them to spot Taylor until the messenger pointed him out. Mitch was climbing a gun tower where they could see the two crewmembers atop it lying dead, and a large hole in the three-metre wide shield of the weapon system.

"What the hell are you doing, Mitch?" Jones hollered.

They looked up to see more enemy ships roaring overhead and continuing to bombard the base, with little fire opposing them.

"He's gonna get himself killed!" screamed Parker.

Without another word, she leapt out of the window and descended as quickly as she safely could to the ground below. As she came to a stop, she saw Mitch climbing into the firing seat of the gun emplacement. She could see the remotely controlled towers were knocked out and pouring with smoke. Taylor's position was the only anti-aircraft emplacement still operational in their vicinity.

"Mitch!" she called out to him.

She tapped her communicator, calling for him once again, but there was no response. She began to run towards the tower. She could see the turret rotate and begin to target an enemy craft. It was large, spanning more than thirty metres in length and looked like a gunship transport of some kind.

The twin-barrelled guns Taylor controlled opened fire, and a missile launched a few seconds later. The enemy ship was first raked with fire, and she could see more than a dozen Mechs bailing out the side. Finally, the missile struck, and an explosion ripped through the hull. A smoke trail span out from the ship as it began to lose control and bank towards the tower. Parker watched in horror. She could already see it was heading for Taylor.

"Mitch!"

There was no chance he could hear her, but it was all she could do, and she felt helpless to save the one she loved more than any other in the world. Taylor kept his finger on the trigger, and gunfire continued to rip through the burning craft, but he could see there was nothing he could do to stop it. The wreck was soaring towards his position. He leapt out from the seat and ran to the edge of the tower with all the strength and speed he could muster.

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.

"What's our head count?"

"Two hundred and sixty three, if you count the Germans you invited along for the ride. Twenty of those are wounded but still combat effective. All other casualties have been transferred to medical transports heading west."

He nodded in response. He prayed those casualties made it out alive, but he knew none of them were safe, no matter where they went. Taylor opened a direct channel to General White who had clearly been anticipating his contact.

"We're good to go, Sir."

"Glad to hear it, Colonel. We've got reports of multiple incoming vessels to the east. We need to be in Baltimore pronto!"

"We're lifting off presently. Good luck to you, Sir."

"And you, Colonel."

He stepped up to the pilot’s cockpit so he could see everything unfold with his own eyes.

"Take us out."

The engines were already roaring, and they were off the ground almost instantly.

"You know where we're going. Stay low, too many larger vessels prowling the skies. Do not stop or slow down for anything, you hear me?"

"Yes, Sir."

He turned back to the transport bay that was crammed with more troops and ammunition than was ideal. They could barely move over one another.

"Man the guns. Be ready to defend yourselves at all times!"

Parker was the first one to take up position at one of the hull-mounted weapons, and others soon followed suit.

"Why Baltimore?"

Taylor looked down to see Sergeant Lang sitting beside him.

"Baltimore was like a fortress, a bastion in the first war. Layer after layer of bunkers, trenches, and gun emplacements. Like nothing we've ever seen in our lifetimes."

"And it held?"

Taylor took in a breath and shook his head.

"They held a hell off a long time, more than anywhere else on the frontline. Baltimore is a symbol of resistance to Americans, and since the war, it's never really been rebuilt. If we're gonna batten down the hatches and try and make a stand, it's the place to do it."

It was a look of loss and defeat that overcame Lang's face at his words. Even as Taylor was saying them, he knew their situation was dire. They had been in the air for a few minutes, and Taylor was starting to believe they might make it there without incident. It was a moment of hope that would soon be trampled upon.

"Incoming!"

It was the word he had been waiting for and praying would not come. It came from one of the gunners at the starboard side, and Taylor pushed his way through to get a view for himself. As he reached the fixed weapon, the man at it was taking aim. Three ships were incoming that appeared about the size of their own. They were almost in range when dozens of objects started to launch out from the bows of the vessels. Taylor lifted his rifle to use the scope for a better look and instantly recognised the drones as just like those they had been attacked by in France.

"Web rounds!"

He dropped the magazine of his rifle and pulled out the single web round mag with the yellow identification band around its base. As he slammed it in, the gunners on his side opened fire on full auto. Fire was quickly returned, and he could hear impacts peppering the hull like hail on a windshield. As Taylor chambered a round, something impacted on the hull beside the gunner in front of him, and an explosion flashed before them. The gunner was thrown back against him, but Taylor managed to keep the two of them on their feet.

He saw the gun was missing from its mount and had been torn off the ship. The open cabin around it was scorched, and they both realised they were mere centimetres from the deadly missile.

"Too close!" Taylor shouted.

He rushed to the window and quickly raised his rifle. Drones were soaring towards them for another pass. The guns along the hull were still firing, and he saw one of the drones blasted out of the sky. But for all of their ammo expenditure, they were achieving little. He raised his rifle and took aim at two of the drones that were flying close to each other.

Gunfire rushed at their vessel, but Taylor calmed his breathing and squeezed the trigger. The shot rushed from his rifle and expanded out. The web instantly encompassed one of the drones and knocked the other off course. The trapped drone dropped from the sky like a brick.

"It works," he whispered, "Take 'em down!"

Others rushed to the gunports and opened fire with volleys of the web rounds that saw the drones being swatted like flies from fifty metres away. The fixed guns turned their fire to the drone carriers and bombarded them with prolonged bursts. Taylor sighed in relief as the rest of them cheered at their victory. He looked around; Lang and the other Germans were genuinely impressed. He didn't have the heart to tell the Sergeant that the drones were little more than a scouting party.

"Baltimore, here we come!" Parker shouted.