A Savage War Of Peace (Ark Royal Book 5) (38 page)

The implants
, Penny thought.  She hadn't liked the idea of being implanted - the government would always know where she was, at least until the implant was removed - but it might work out in their favour, if the aliens didn't take them somewhere where the signal could be blocked.  They might not know about the implants, but the Indians certainly would. 
We might be found, if the base survives the attack
...

She glanced at her fellow captives, trying to assess their condition.  The Paras were too badly injured to escape, even if they could move, while some of the civilians were in shock.  Penny didn't really blame them.  They’d gone from viewing the aliens as primitives ready and willing to welcome the human race’s advice on how to live to seeing them as all-powerful captors.  The others ... Penny tested her bonds and groaned as she realised it was impossible to loosen the knots.  She recalled the slaves she’d seen in alien fields and shuddered.  The aliens had no shortage of practice in keeping people under control - and in bondage.

We’re fucked
, she thought, tiredly. 
And if the military comes after us, we might be killed in the crossfire.

***

Corporal Danny Hawkins rather liked the Bulldog, although he knew he was in the minority between people who preferred a full-scale Churchill tank and those who liked the lighter Hanover armoured car.  It struck him as the ideal compromise between an ATV, which could go anywhere, and a tank, which might sink in the mud or become trapped in a canal.  God knew he’d been on exercises, before he’d been seconded to 3 Para, where some luckless tankers had discovered the hard way that their vehicles might be largely invulnerable, but they were alarmingly easy to get stuck.

He smirked to himself as the Bulldog emerged from the south gate ... and then felt his smile grow wider as bullets started to ping off the hull.  It was possible, Captain Yates had shouted as they’d hurried to get the Bulldogs up and out of the fort, that the enemy had something that could penetrate their armour, but so far nothing had materialised.  He gunned the engine and drove forward anyway, pushing into the bullets like a man might walk into a blizzard.  The Vesy were standing there, shooting at him; they didn't really seem to understand the dangers facing them.

“Weapons locked,” the gunner said.

“Give them hell,” Danny ordered.

The Bulldog’s machine guns fired once, sweeping bullets across the Vesy formation.  Danny watched the aliens literally disintegrate as the bullets tore through them, ripping their bodies to bloody chunks.  The incoming fire slacked off sharply, allowing Danny a chance to move out and around the fort.  Most of the alien buildings assembled near Fort Knight were rubble now, either through the fort’s return fire or through battles between the different alien factions.  It was quite likely, Danny had been told, that some of the aliens might oppose the first group of aliens.  But how was he meant to tell the difference?

Something smashed against the hull.  Moments later, flames cascaded over the transparent window before fading away.  Somehow, either by themselves or with Indian advice, the aliens had reinvented the Molotov Cocktail.  It would have been a hazard to earlier vehicles, Danny knew, but it was such a common threat that the Bulldog was armed against flames and gas as well as bullets.  More bottles crashed down around the advancing vehicles, only to be smashed uselessly against their armour.

“Got another team of aliens coming into view,” the gunner said.

“Take them out,” Danny ordered.  There was less room to manoeuvre now they were pressing through the alien settlement.  The flanking teams had spread out to try to prevent the aliens from sneaking up through the jungle.  “I ...”

He broke off as he saw the antitank missile being launched.  The Indians had given the aliens antitank weapons ... he swore out loud, then hastily reversed course as the gunner opened fire, wiping the team out of existence.  But it was already too late.

The missile punched through the Bulldog’s armour and detonated inside the hull.  There were no survivors.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

John had been half-asleep when the attack began, dreaming of the last moment he’d seen Colin alive.  They’d both known the risks when they’d started flying starfighters, but neither of them had truly believed they could die.  Or, if so, they would die together ...

He jerked awake as the alarms sounded, bringing the ship to red alert.  “Red alert,” Howard said, his voice echoing through the cabin.  “I say again, red alert!  Captain to the bridge!”

John grabbed for his jacket as he rolled out of bed, then pulled it over his head and raced towards the hatch.  It opened, allowing him to step into the corridor and then straight onto the bridge.  The display glowed like a Christmas tree, showing dozens of red icons on the planet’s surface.  There didn't seem to be any orbital threat, but the Indian ships were clearly coming alive and preparing for action.

“Report,” he snapped, taking his command chair.

“Multiple attacks on the planet’s surface,” Howard reported.  “The situation is confused, sir, but Fort Knight is under attack, the Ambassador’s party bleeped a distress signal and troops are pouring over the border from the Flowered Clan.  Many outposts are under attack too; British, American, French ... everyone, but the Indians and their allies.”

They couldn't have put this together after they knew of the embargo
, John thought.  He wasn't a ground-pounder, but he'd worked with enough logistics headaches to know that putting together a coordinated attack on the fly wasn't easy. 
They must have had this planned in advance, then moved it up to coincide with the attack on the Ambassador.

“Clear the decks for action,” he ordered, thinking hard.  The Indians weren't doing anything
threatening
, but it was impossible to ignore their presence.  “Can you get a tight-beam link to Fort Knight?”

“Negative, sir,” Gillian said.  “I think the transmitter on the ground must have been sabotaged or taken out in the first assault.  There’s no jamming, just no response.”

The Vesy couldn't have done that for themselves
, John thought, as he peered at the images from orbiting satellites. 
Their allies must have helped them ... hell, they provided the weapons and other equipment
.

He scowled.  The Indians had created a major headache.  If he intervened by dropping KEWs, the Indians would be obliged - by the treaty they’d signed - to come to the defence of their allies.  The fact that the Flowered Clan had
started
the war would go by the wayside, John was sure, all the more so as no one inclined to disagree with the Indian point of view would survive.  But he couldn't leave his people stranded on the surface ... the evacuation had moved several hundred civilians to the freighters, but there were hundreds more trapped in Fort Knight. 

And even if we could drop KEWs, we might have some real problems separating the good guys from the bad guys
, he added, mentally. 
We might wind up killing more of our own people than the Flowered Clan
.

“Continue to monitor the situation,” he ordered, tersely.  “Can you link to the Ambassador’s party?”

“No, sir,” Gillian said.  “But Lieutenant Schneider transmitted a distress call before Fort Knight came under attack.”

John cursed. 
This
time, there would be no helicopters coming to the rescue.  Percy Schneider and his force would be trapped, unable to fight their way out of the city or hole up and wait for rescue.  The Vesy would dig them out, then murder them.  And, by their standards, they had a very good cause.  They
had
been betrayed by their allies.

But there
was
another option.  “Major Hadfield,” he said.  “Can you and your company prepare for a drop into Ivan’s City?”

“Aye, sir,” Hadfield said.  “We can get Percy and his team out, but escaping afterwards might be problematic.”

“We can have the shuttles primed to pick you up once you escape the city,” John said.  It wasn't the best plan, but it was the only one he had.  “In your suits, you should be largely invincible.”

“Unless the Indians gave the aliens plasma guns,” Hadfield pointed out.  He sighed.  “We’ll be ready for the drop in five minutes.”

“Acknowledged,” John said.  He closed the channel, then looked at Gillian.  “Contact the destroyers.  Inform them that I want them to be ready to drop their marines into Fort Knight, should the situation merit it.”

“Aye, sir,” Gillian said.

John nodded, reluctantly.  He didn't dare send troops until he knew just what was going on - and if there was anything left worth salvaging.  It didn't seem likely that Fort Knight was completely overrun, but the aliens had soundly hammered the defences, based on what he could see from high overhead.  He needed to speak to Colonel Boone or someone else in authority before he committed himself ...

“Captain,” Gillian said.  “I’m picking up a message from the Indian base.  It’s addressed to you personally.”

John sucked in his breath, then nodded.  “Put it through,” he ordered.  “Now.”

“Captain,” Ambassador Rani Begum said.  Her dark face crinkled into a smile.  “A pleasure to speak to you at last.”

“I'm not feeling particularly diplomatic right now, Ambassador,” John said, tightly.  “Fort Knight is under attack and Ambassador Richardson is in grave danger.”

“We know,” Rani said.  She gave him a wide-eyed look of innocence that was so exaggerated John
knew
it had to be manipulation.  “We have been asked to pass on a message from our allies, the Flowered Clan.”

“Your allies have launched an unprovoked attack and are butchering my people,” John snapped.  “You will excuse me, I’m sure, if I don’t regard them very kindly.”

Rani shrugged, her mask dropping just long enough for John to see a cool and calculating personality under the smile.  “City One, the city you call Ivan’s City, has formally asked for membership in the Flowered Clan,” she stated.  “The Flowered Clan has seen fit to accept the application.  As part of the terms of membership, the original agreement that allowed you to build Fort Knight on their soil has been cancelled.  They would like you to remove the base at once, without further ado.”

John barked down a laugh.  “That would be a great deal easier,” he said, “if the base wasn't under heavy attack.”

“They are prepared to offer a ceasefire on the understanding that you will withdraw all presence from the surface within twenty-four hours,” Rani said, smoothly.  “You would be able to save the rest of your people without trouble, Captain.”

“I would be prepared to agree to a ceasefire in place,” John hedged.  “But I couldn't agree to withdraw completely from Vesy, Ambassador.  Fort Knight is arguably not part of Ivan’s City.”

Rani’s face hardened.  “Let me be blunt, Captain,” she said.  “Your former allies have deserted you.  They were betrayed and now they have betrayed you in turn.  You have the choice between accepting my offer, which will allow you to save the rest of your people, or fighting it out on the ground with the Vesy.  I will not permit you to intervene from orbit, as per our agreement with the Flowered Clan.”

Her voice softened, slightly.  “I don’t expect you to concede anything, Captain,” she added, solemnly.  “It wasn't our intention to find ourselves backing an all-out assault on your positions.  The diplomats on Earth can sort it out over the coming months.  Get your people out, keep them safe ... leave the rest to your superiors.”

John thought rapidly.  On the face of it, her offer was tempting ... all the more so as the
Indian
version of the story would put all the blame for the crisis on Britain.  He wasn't authorised to make deals on Britain’s behalf, so - on the face of it - abandoning Fort Knight wouldn't be a problem.  But the diplomats would see it as surrendering any remaining claims Britain had to Vesy. 

“I'm sending marines to recover the Ambassador,” he said, finally.  “And if you try to intervene, it will be considered an act of war.  We can determine the status of Fort Knight later.”

He closed the channel, then looked at Gillian.  “Anything from the surface?”

“Got a low-powered laser link,” Gillian said.  “Colonel Boone reports that the base has taken heavy damage, but he thinks he’s on top of the situation now.”

“Then drop the marines,” John ordered.  It was a gamble - the Indians might fire on the shuttles, or the Vesy might have antiaircraft weapons in place to protect Ivan’s City - but there was no choice.  “And then contact the freighters.  I want every shuttle they have prepped and ready to go to evacuate Fort Knight.”

Howard blinked.  “Sir?”

“The base has become indefensible,” John said.  If they’d been able to use KEWs, he could have swept the surroundings clear of alien life, but the Indians would certainly interfere.  It might not be wise, diplomatically speaking, to accept the Indian-backed ceasefire, yet he knew they couldn't hold the base, not any longer.  “And Gillian?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Keep sending updates through the relay network,” he added.  “I want everyone to know what happened here.”

***

Percy swore under his breath as a group of armed Vesy appeared, pouring down from a stairwell that should have led up to safety.  He launched a grenade into their midst, blew them into bloody chunks and then swore again as a hail of fire poured down from further up the stairwell.  The aliens had them neatly pinned down, unable to go up ...

“We’ll have to go down,” he said.  It was going to be a nightmare - there was no way they could hope to pass unnoticed in the alien city - but he saw no other choice.  If no one was coming to get them - and they hadn’t been able to raise either Fort Knight or the Bulldogs - staying where they were was suicide.  “Sergeant, stay at the back; if anything happens to me you’re in charge.”

“Aye, sir,” Peerce said.

Percy glanced at his men, then silently calculated their remaining ammunition supply in his head.  It didn't look good, no matter how he ran the figures; they were likely to burn up their ammunition at a frightening rate, then get overrun by thousands of angry aliens.  Ivan’s death underlined just how badly the situation had fallen apart.  If he was dead, the next ruler of the city would definitely not be pro-British.

“Keep trying to raise someone - anyone,” he added.  If Fort Knight was off the air ... it spelled trouble, he was sure.  There was no jamming, nothing that should have impeded the signals; the Bulldogs should have responded, even if Fort Knight hadn't.  And that meant they’d walked right into an ambush.  “Let’s go.”

He hefted his rifle and stepped forward, slipping past the blood and gore and down the corridor.  Behind him, three Marines followed, weapons at the ready; behind
them
, two more half-carried the ambassador.  The Sergeant and his men brought up the rear.  Percy glanced into the first room, firmly resisting the urge to throw a grenade in first, then relaxed very slightly as he saw nothing.  The room was empty, the walls carved with strange symbols that meant nothing to him.  Perhaps, one day, he’d have a chance to work out what they really meant.

Unless they mean something like DEATH TO HUMANITY
, he thought, as they inched down towards the next room.  He'd served in places where threatening messages were written everywhere, from promising great victories against the punitive forces to threatening anyone who dared even consider collaborating with a toughly unpleasant and graphic fate. 
The Vesy might have the same tradition of night letters
.

The next room was barren, completely.  There were no carvings on the walls, nothing to draw his attention.  He puzzled over it for a long moment, then led the way on to the next, slightly surprised that the Vesy hadn't mounted a counterattack yet.  Had they assumed the humans would always go up and massed their forces accordingly?  Or had they refrained from involving the entire city in the plot?  There was no way to know.

He froze as he heard the sound of someone running towards them, then carefully hefted his rifle as a small alien came into view.  Too small ... it was clearly a child, wearing nothing more than a loincloth.  Percy levelled his rifle, then hesitated as the alien came to a halt and then turned to flee back down the corridor.  He’d been warned, more than once, that children could be turned into unwitting suicide bombers, but he didn't have it in him to shoot a child, not even an
alien
child.  He just hoped the youngster - he hadn't been able to tell if it was a boy or a girl - wouldn’t tell everyone about their presence.