Battle Earth IX

Chapter 7

"We're still alive," said Parker.

He looked over and saw she had sat down a metre to his side, and he hadn't even noticed. He was on watch, but there were so many thoughts cycling around his head that he had not noticed her approach. He looked around at their surroundings. It was a dry and mild night, but more than anything, it was peaceful. There was no sound of gunfire and tracers lighting up the sky. The air was fresh and crisp, and for a moment, one could imagine there was no war at all.

The road in front was perfect, and the houses opposite looked as inviting as the one Taylor was sitting outside of.

"Think it's somewhere you could see us living?"

"If you'd asked me a few months back, yeah," she replied.

"And no longer?"

"No, because come tomorrow or the day after that, it'll be as wrecked as everywhere else we have left behind."

He nodded in agreement.

"You should get some rest."

He looked down at his watch. It was true.

"Yeah, about time Jones did his turn."

He got to his feet and strode into the house and upstairs where he knew Jones had gone. He banged on the door.

"Jones, get up!" he yelled.

There came no response.

"Jones!"

Still nothing. Concern overcame him, and he gripped his rifle in one hand and prised open the door with the other. It was empty. The bed sheets were strewn about from where he had clearly been, but there was no sign of movement. He rushed back down into the kitchen where Lang and Fuchs sat chatting quietly.

"Captain Jones, have you seen him?"

"He left about twenty minutes ago," Lang replied.

"Left? How?"

Lang pointed to the back door of the house.

"Ah, shit, and you didn't think there was something a little suspect about that?"

The two of them looked surprised and unable to answer. Taylor knew there was nothing they could have done or known to have stopped him leaving.

"Oh, hell, Charlie," he muttered, "If he comes back, you let me know," he said a little louder.

"Do you expect him to?"

Taylor shrugged. "No goddamn idea, Lang."

He strode out of the back door and towards the guard standing at the end of the garden. It was one of Lang's men, but he didn’t know his name.

"Captain Jones, where did he go?"

"That way, Sir," the man quickly answered, pointing back to the way they had entered the neighbourhood.

"Know where he went?"

"No, Sir."

Taylor turned and rushed back through the house.

"I’ve got a pretty good idea," he said to himself.

As he approached Parker, she could see the concern in his face.

"What is it?"

"Jones, he's gone."

He stopped for a moment and could hear a vehicle tearing off into the distance.

"Find Ota, and tell her she's in charge."

"Where are you going?"

"To make sure Jones doesn't get himself killed."

Taylor rushed to the jeep they had arrived in and raced on down the road. He could use only blackout lights and markers because of the risk of enemy detection from the air.

"Goddamn you, Jones, you crazy son of a bitch!"

He had no lights to follow and could no longer hear the vehicle ahead. He stopped at the side of the road beside two soldiers standing guard at a crossroads.

"A vehicle just came by, where was it heading?"

One of them pointed. He began to speak, but Taylor raced off without a word. He was looking around in all directions in a desperate hope to find Jones, but there seemed little chance. Then, as he passed a small park, he noticed a line of copters on the green hidden between trees. Camo nets had hastily been thrown over them in an attempt to conceal their presence.

"Gotta be."

He pulled into the park and raced across the grass towards them and soon noticed a little movement. He slowed the vehicle cautiously until he came to a halt and leapt out. He hoped it was Jones, but he had to be cautious. The gaps he had seen in their lines made him wonder how on earth they could defend such a broad line, and the threat of airborne attack was ever present.

Taylor crept up between the trees, and all the time watching. He could see a camo net being pulled from one of the copters. He took cover beside one of the other vehicles and stopped. He waited to see if he could identify anyone, and then he caught sight of another glimmer of movement. A figure was lifting its arms, and he heard the character say, "My baby."

He knew it could only be Rains. Taylor stepped out from the cover and paced towards them.

"Rains! What the hell is going on here?"

The Lieutenant nearly jumped out of his skin and then froze. A moment later Jones paced around the corner and stopped.

"What are you doing, Charlie?" he asked.

"You know exactly."

It was true. Taylor knew from the moment he told Jones about the state of France there would be no holding him back, but that wasn't a reason to hide the facts from him.

"You know you would do the same. I'm going to get her out, both of them, Coco and our unborn son."

Taylor didn't know how to respond. It would be hypocritical to try and stop him. He looked around to see four of Jones' unit was with them. Lewis, Wood, Evans and Corporal Robinson.

"You can either leave us be, or help us," Jones said calmly.

Taylor looked to Rains.

"Hey, I got a chance to fly. I ain't gonna say no," he responded to Taylor's glaring eyes.

Taylor shook his head. He didn't even know why he’d chased after Jones other than the fact he had slipped out in the night, but he never imagined the possibility of going with him.

"France is gonna be a death trap," he stated.

"Yeah," replied Jones.

"You're gonna need more than five men to pull it off."

"Probably."

"And maybe twenty-four hours. That means leaving our people for twenty-four hours here. A lot can happen in that amount of time."

"Yep."

"Why should I go with you?"

"Because I would do it for you. Because you know how important this is to me. You risked everything to save Parker. I only ask you respect my right to do the same, and support me like I did you."

Taylor thought about it for a moment.

"This would mean going UA again."

"AWOL, you're in the Army now," replied Jones with a smile.

"God knows what we are anymore."

"Inter-Allied."

He nodded in response.

"All right, all right. I'll come. But let's do this right. We get in and out fast. The mission is to get Coco out safely. We do this without casualties. We can't afford any."

"Agreed," Jones replied and reached out his friend Taylor, tapping him on the shoulder.

"So, who else are we taking?" asked Taylor.

"Just us," replied Rains, "With a single copter and a few guys, we’ve got a chance of getting in and out of there."

"He's right," Jones agreed.

"This just gets better and better."

"So you're in?"

"Yeah, I guess, but this is your mission. You are taking the lead."

"Okay," Jones replied, somewhat surprised. He looked over to Rains. "How long till we can get this bird in the air?"

"About a minute. She's ready to go."

"All right, then let's move out."

They climbed aboard as Eddie went to the cockpit and fired up the engines.

"So you got much of a plan?" Taylor asked.

"France may be a sinking ship, but she ain't down yet. I figure the lines will be all over the place. A single copter doesn't pose a threat to anyone and shouldn't draw any attention. We head right for Meaux and attempt to put down there.

"Right on top of the base?"

"Yes."

"Which is almost certainly under attack?"

"Yes, well I didn't say it would be easy. Let's just get there and see."

"Great plan," Taylor replied sarcastically, "and how do you know you will have a son?"

"I just know," he said, smiling.

A few moments later they were lifting off in the darkness. Rains was flying by night vision only and with no lights of any sort. It was dangerous, but less so than announcing their presence to all around them.

"You know what really pisses me off about all this?" Taylor asked of Jones.

Jones looked puzzled. "I thought it was a little obvious."

Taylor shook his head. "No. The fact that everything we do is reactionary. Not once have we gone on the offensive. Not once have we forged a plan which isn't merely in a desperate response to what is being thrown against us."

"I don't see how we can do differently. Look at this war. It's a fucking disaster."

Taylor's face tightened as he looked scornfully at Jones. Never did he accept such talk in front of the troops, and yet he relaxed, realising it was both true and unavoidable.

"We're doing this, aren't we? Going out on our own free will to get Coco."

"Who would be perfectly safe if our armies in France were holding out," replied Taylor, "Let's think about this for a minute. We get Dubois out of France, but what then? Where do we go?"

"I don't see what you mean."

"France is falling, I get that, but the United States seems to be following her. We can only retreat so far."

Jones nodded in agreement and put his head in his hands, thinking about it for a moment.

"Earth's a big planet. We'll find somewhere to go," he finally responded.

"Not big enough to hide forever."

It was a grim reality that none of them wanted to face.

"We've got to get back to our unit after this though, right, Sir?" asked Lewis.

Taylor nodded.

"If one thing is certain in this life, it's that we need each other. Inter-Allied will stand together in victory or death."

"Better be victory then, hey?" asked Jones with a smile.

They carried on through the night with no idea of their surroundings. They remained silent and listened for some sign of attack, but it never came. It wasn't long before the sun was up as they passed into new time zones, and morning turned to mid afternoon as they approached the English Channel. Taylor strode up to the cockpit to look out with his own eyes.

"I don't like this. It’s way too quiet."

"Can't we just enjoy a bit of peace?" asked Rains.

"Love to, trust me."

"Trust you? Says the man who leads me to hell every time he's in trouble."

"Don't pin this one on me. This is Jones' doing, and you obviously didn't take much convincing."

"Hey, there's a damsel in distress, how could I pass up the opportunity to rescue her?" replied Rains rather jovially.

Taylor could never tell whether Rains was genuinely that calm and relaxed, or if it was a coping mechanism, but it was comforting, no doubt.

"Okay, we got something up ahead," Rains said, looking at his scanners.

"What is it?"

"It's not good, whatever it is. Multiple contacts and they are not friendly."

"Got any ideas?"

"Well, we ain't fighting 'em, and that's for sure."

They banked hard and headed north for the Channel.

"Are they coming after us?" Taylor asked.

"Uhhh....yep."

"Fuck, how many and what are they?"

"Looks like a single fighter coming after us."

"We got any weapons at all?"

Rains shook his head. "She ain't nothing but a transport."

"What do we do?"

Taylor looked around, and Charlie was now standing behind him.

"This is your mission. You're in charge here," replied Taylor.

Jones stopped to think for a moment.

"They're closing on us," stated Rains, "so think fast!"

"Put out a message on all channels. Colonel Taylor of Inter-Allied calling for immediate assistance."

Rains turned around in surprise. "It won't reach anyone but the enemy. We can only communicate short range with their jamming."

"I'm well aware of that, Lieutenant."

Rains quickly understand and conveyed the message across all open channels.

"Dangerous game you're playing here," Taylor whispered to Jones.

"Yeah, just playing on your celebrity status."

"So you just announced to the enemy the man they want dead most in the World is aboard this ship that has no defences? Good move."

"Hey, you said I'm in charge. Let me take the reins."

Taylor backed off, and Jones looked back to Rains.

"Repeat the message. If they fire directly at us, deploy countermeasures, but as late as you can. Then power down and fake engine failure."

"I can do that," Eddie replied with a smile.

He put out the message once again, and immediately a warning light flashed on the cockpit.

"They're trying to knock our engines out. This is gonna be close," said Eddie.

He moved his hand up to the emergency countermeasures button and held his finger just millimetres over it. His hand was shaking a little while he watched the scanner.

"Almost, almost..."

He quickly hit the button, and they felt the copter rock as the explosion erupted just behind them. Jones was knocked about the cockpit but managed to hold on to a rail above Rains. The pilot quickly reached forward and powered down the engines to emergency only.

"That's it. We're on backup power in a controlled descent. We'll be on the ground in about a minute."

"No we won't," Jones said firmly.

He turned back to the crew compartment.

"We've got guns aboard, so we just need to see the whites of their eyes."

"That should be my line, should it not?"

Jones smiled at Taylor. "Get ready."

He raised his rifle and stepped up to the side door.

"Think they'll be stupid enough to come this close?" asked Robinson.

"Damn right! They'll want visual confirmation Taylor is on board, and to be sure nobody bails out."

"They're closing fast!" Eddie shouted out.

"You just tell us when they get parallel with us," Jones said calmly.

"Yeah, whatever you say."

"And be ready to get on the power."

They waited in silence, and Jones could feel the sweat dripping down his face. He prayed the plan would work but knew it was a gamble, like so many others.

"When I open that door, you fire like hell," he said.

"That's your plan?" Taylor asked.

He only stared back.

"Okay, okay."

"They're coming alongside us!" Rains hollered.

"How close?"

"About twenty-five metres!"

"All right, we're in luck. You ready for this?"

They all nodded in agreement as they stood in a firing line beside the door.

"We've only got one shot at this, so you make sure they don't fly again...three...two...one!"

He hit the door release, causing it to quickly slide across and reveal the alien fighter matching their speed alongside them.

"Fire!"

All six of them stood side-by-side and opened up on full auto. Several dozen shots had peppered the hull of the ship that was little larger than their copter. The engines quickly fired, but as it began to move away, they kept up the vicious barrage of fire into the rear of the ship's engines. A small explosion caused fragments to break off the rear hull, and smoke began to belch out.

"Get us moving!" Jones shouted.

Taylor was still firing, looking back until the craft passed beyond range. They both took a look out of the door. It was diving towards the sea and finally plunged into the water. Jones hit the door button and slumped back down into a seat with a sigh of relief.

"Not a bad plan," said Taylor.

Jones nodded in agreement. "Improvise and overcome, is that not what you always said?"

"Bet your ass."

Taylor went back to the cockpit and looked out once more. In the distance, he could see dozens of black shapes on the horizon.

"What the hell are they?"

"That's the enemy," replied Rains in surprise.

"That far north?"

He turned around. "Britain must be under attack if they're this far north of France."

"I'd be astonished if she wasn't," Jones said.

"And you can live with that and keep doing your job?"

"I wasn't aware it was our job we were doing here?"

"No, but you know what I mean."

The other Brits all looked to Jones for answers, as they were all clearly anxious.

"War is on all over the World. Doesn't matter where we fight, just that we win," he replied.

Taylor gestured for Jones to come up to the cockpit. He obliged but groaned as he got to his feet.

"What is it?" Jones asked.

Mitch leaned in close and spoke quietly.

"All this we're doing, all of it to get your family out of a warzone. What about theirs?" he asked, pointing over to troops who had come with them.

Jones was stunned and speechless. Taylor could already see a little shame in his eyes for thinking only of himself.

"They have given everything for us, everything for you. Shall we not pay it back in kind?"

Jones coughed to clear his throat.

"What have you got in mind?"

"Their families, all those of the Brits amongst the Regiment, they all lived on base, right?"

"Near enough."

"Then that's where we're heading, once we've done our job."

"That's probably fifty families. What are we gonna do with them?"

"We'll find a ship, and we'll make it happen."

"And when we get back to Pittsburgh? We'd be spiriting them away from one warzone, only to take them to another."

"But it would give them hope, something which is sorely lacking, right now."

Jones shook his head. "It's crazy."

"So is flying half way across the World to rescue one women and her unborn child."

He couldn't disagree. "All right, all right."

"Then you tell them."

Jones nodded in agreement and turned back to the others.

"You've gone far beyond what I could ever, or should ever have asked of you. I do not doubt many more among our Regiment would have given it their all, but it is you four who are here with us. You are helping me to save my family, and I intend to return the favour."

"What do you mean, Sir?" Wood asked.

"I mean I fully intend to try and get all our families out. Once we're done in France, we'll head back to base and round up all the families we can, and who wants to come with us."

"But why?" asked Evans.

"Because they are counting on us for safety, and we're not giving it to them. The World is in tatters. Let's be sure to protect what we have."

"Britain isn't lost, is it, Sir?" asked Lewis.

Jones shook his head.

"We're going into France because the country is on its knees, but if Britain is still in the fight, I say let 'em stay."

Jones turned back to Taylor who seemed shocked by the response.

"Can't force them," he said to the Colonel.

It certainly made their lives a little easier, as the logistical nightmare was already giving him a headache even before he considered the risks involved of such an operation.

"How long till we reach Meaux?" Jones asked Rains.

"About twenty minutes, providing we don't hit any more trouble. I'll be hugging the coastline as long as I can."

A flash lit up the cockpit. "Holy shit!" Rains swore loudly.

Jones and Taylor rushed to his side. He was looking down at a battle raging below to the south.

"Guess there is some fight left in France, after all."

Rains banked a little for them to get a better view. For several kilometres, they could see burning wrecks of vehicles from both sides and trench works where troops still fought on, although there seemed little clarity as to where the lines were. It looked more like small skirmishes scattered about the remnants of the epic battle that had been fought there so recently.

"Poor bastards," whispered Jones.

"Same all over, nothing we can do for 'em," replied Taylor.

They carried on silently for their target and awaited some news from Rains.

"That's it!" he finally yelled, "We're on the final stretch to Meaux."

"How does it look?"

"Like a mess, Jones."

He was studying his scanners, but the readings were still being jammed.

"There's a battle going on there, for sure. You want me to put down?"

"No, you let us out and find somewhere safe to wait."

"Safe? You're kidding, right? But you'll have no way to contact me," he replied, looking across at a map on a screen beside them, "I'll put down here," he indicated at a small opening between trees several kilometres north of the base, "If I have to bug out at any point, I'll be airborne and looking for you."

"Not exactly a well structured plan."

"Was any of this?" Taylor asked.

As they flew in towards the base, they could already see Mechs advancing from the west. They had occupied more than a quarter of the base while skirmishes went on throughout many other areas.

"You'll be jumping into a shitstorm," said Rains.

"What's new?" Taylor replied.

"All right, get us over the main walls and let us out there. We'll go the rest of the way on foot."

"You sure?"

"You don't want to get in this fight. We need you and this bird in one piece."

"Yeah, well I'll try to keep her that way. But it seems every time I take Taylor somewhere, he gets us blown to hell."

Taylor and Jones stepped back towards the others and opened the door as they came in. Wind gushed into the crew compartment as they all got to their feet.

"We stay together throughout, and keep it tight!" Jones gave the order.

Rains lifted the nose and put power down on the landing thrusters to bring them to an abrupt halt so that they could jump together. Jones didn't say a word. He simply took a leap out of the door, and the others soon followed. As Taylor hit the ground, he immediately looked back at the copter. Rains got off safely, quickly soaring away, and hugging the ground at the same height he had dropped them off at.

Then he turned his attention to their surroundings. They had landed amongst a number of shipping crates, and they could hear a lot of shouting around them. They lifted their rifles and raised shields in a circle. They could tell they had incoming and had nowhere to go.

A dozen troops rushed into the grouping of containers but did not fire. One was shouting, "Identify yourselves!" in a thick French accent.

Jones immediately lowered his shield and rifle and stepped out in full view, without any concern, and Taylor felt compelled to do the same. The man who had been screaming at them seemed even more surprised to recognise them than he was by their sudden appearance.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, turning to his troops and ordering their weapons down. Their group relaxed and took relief in finding friendly forces.

"Captain Charlie Jones, and this is Colonel Mitch Taylor, Inter..."

"I know who you are," replied the Sergeant excitedly, "We need all the help we can get. You couldn't have come at a better time."

Jones looked to Taylor. He felt for the troops who looked like they were going through hell. He tried to think of a way of explaining it.

"Where is the rest of your unit?"

"This is it," replied Jones.

The Sergeant turned to Taylor for answers, but Taylor was already giving them before he could open his mouth to ask them.

"France is falling. You must see that. We're here to get one of our own out, and then we're out of here. You should do the same."

The Sergeant was shocked.

"I'm sorry, but we have a mission to accomplish, and we must get on," stated Jones.

With that, he strode forward and in between the Frenchmen, who were left stunned and bewildered. Taylor felt sick to be leaving them to fend for themselves. He didn't recognise a single one of them, but he'd bet good money he'd fought alongside them at one time or another.

"That was cold," he muttered to Jones.

"This is war. We do what we have to do."

Taylor had rarely seen him so determined in all his life, except for after his recovery from the enemy prison camp. His bitter determination had led him to near death then, and it was a warning sign Taylor knew he should take note of, and yet could not find a way to act upon.

Pulses smashed the ground throughout the base, but none came closer than fifty metres to the small group. They could hear the fiercest fighting was still going on to the east.

"You know that's where we gotta go?" asked Taylor.

Jones nodded as they took a turn and headed right for it.

"Then let's hope the hospital hasn't been overrun," he replied.

"Hope? I got room for a whole lotta hope, but it seems to be what we're living off these days, and it can't carry us through."

"Why? Why can't it?" insisted Jones.

They passed a line of wounded who were being patched up ready to go back into action, and several platoons were going the same direction as them. Nobody even noticed their presence or identity, for they looked no different than any other soldier there.

"Vive la France! Vive la France!" a voice called out.

They looked over at an officer doing his utmost to spur the troops on as he led them forward to join the fight. He was portly for a field officer, and old too. Then they realised it was Dupont, fully armoured and equipped and with rifle in hand. It was the most substantial sign of the times.

"Oh, shit, things must be bad," said Taylor.

Jones ignored it and carried on, but Taylor was right. They both knew that when a General was forced to take up arms at the frontline, it was the beginning of the end.

"There it is!" Taylor shouted.

Jones said nothing as he continued onwards in his laconic determined fashion.

We’re almost there! Please be there, please be there, and please be alive! Taylor thought.

It was a straight road leading to the hospital that lay to the northern side of the road. They were just a hundred metres from the door when a building to the south side collapsed, and an enemy tank burst out from the wreckage to block the road. Troops scattered as its turret was brought to bear on them.

"Get down!" Taylor screamed.

The others jumped for cover but not Jones. Before he could take another step, Taylor grabbed him, tossing him into an alleyway for cover and leaping after him. A pulse burst where they had stood seconds before, and two French soldiers who had made a break for cover were vaporised.

Jones was sitting up against a wall, and Taylor leapt on him, grabbing the collar of his armour. He smacked his helmet to get his attention, as he seemed to be in some haze of a dream world.

"We're getting her back, but not like this!" yelled Taylor, "I promise you we'll get her back, but not at the cost of any of our lives! I've seen you like this before, and I don't like it. Don't throw your life away because you're too embittered to think straight!"

Taylor smacked his helmet once more.

"I need your head in the game. I need Captain Jones, the soldier in you, not the single minded headstrong fool who would die through his own pig headedness!"

Jones seemed to take note of the comments and was surprised by the verbal assault that no one had ever levelled at him with such vigour.

"Now, on your feet and follow me!"

Taylor hauled him upwards and immediately jumped the wall, landing on a flat roof. They were looking down on the vast armoured vehicle that was still pounding the street below. They knew they had to move quickly. Taylor ran and jumped onto the next rooftop, and then another, before stopping to see a gaping hole in the second floor of the hospital ahead.

"Ah, shit," he said to himself, and he ran and jumped for the hole, hoping for the best. He tumbled in through the hole and barrelled into a hospital bed that was knocked aside before another finally stopped him. The other five tumbled in just as ungraciously as he had. As they got to their feet, they found themselves surrounded by bodies. The explosion that created their entry point had killed every patient in the room, as well as a doctor and several orderlies.

Jones went frantically from one body to another to check none were Coco, and eventually looked back at Taylor in relief.

"Come on, we need to move fast."

Taylor led them out into the corridor where staff ran back and forth still doing their jobs as if it were just another day. They passed the burnt out wrecked room as if it were not there. As one nurse rushed past, Taylor grabbed her arm and stopped her dead in her tracks. She opened her mouth to complain, but on seeing his rank and grizzled state, held her tongue.

"We're looking for a Sergeant Coco Dubois."

"I'll, I'll have to check the records."

Taylor released his grip and allowed her to lead the way.

She stepped up to a console on the wall and tapped a few buttons before turning back to them.

"I'm sorry, but she's been checked out."

"By who?" Jones demanded.

Taylor half expected it to be Dubois herself, ever persistent to join the fight.

If only that were the case, he thought, as the nurse continued.

"It says she was checked out just a few moments ago under the supervision of Major Martin."

"Martin?" Jones queried.

Taylor thought on it for a moment and began shaking his head.

"If it's the same Martin, he's one of them, a clone!"

Jones face turned to horror, and he rushed through the ward with the others chasing him. He was heading for the nearest outlook over the frontage of the building; Taylor only two paces behind him. They rushed into a busy ward, stopping when they reached a window looking out onto the road. They spotted Coco immediately. She was walking on her own feet and being pushed along by a couple of humans dressed as French officers. Mechs surrounded them as they approached a small transport craft that had put down between several armoured vehicles.

"They're taking her, no!" he screamed at the top of his voice.

Jones reversed his rifle and smashed the window out with it. He put his foot on the edge to climb out, but Taylor got a hold and pulled him back. Jones turned and shoved Taylor back and tried again. Taylor was just as quick and hauled him inside once again. But as he was pushed back as before, he was backed against a wall and found Jones' rifle forced against his chin.

"Don't you stop me!" he cried.

Taylor kept a firm grip on Jones and would not let him move.

"You can save her. We can save her, but not now. We've lost this battle, but not the war. I will not let you die needlessly!"

Jones looked back to the window, and he could see the ship lift off and soar into the distance. He lowered his rifle.

"I've lost her," he said soulfully.

His shoulders were hunched, and he had the look of a defeated man.

"No," replied Taylor, "She's alive, and so are we. We'll find a way. Whatever we have to do, we'll do it. We'll get her back."