Battle Earth VIII (Book 8) (19 page)

As he closed the distance, he could see the cover they were using also limited the arc of fire of their enemy, and he was heading for just two enemy combatants. It was enough to spur him on in the knowledge his shield would protect him. As he ran, he threw a frag grenade with all the strength his suit would afford him. It bounced along the floor in front of him. One of the soldiers leapt for cover, but the other had not noticed.

The Colonel was little more than five metres from the grenade when it ignited. The soldier disappeared in the blast. Taylor felt the impact halve his pace and almost cause him to be thrown from his feet. He reached the source of the blast where the body of the fallen soldier was sprawled out across the ground and riddled with shrapnel, but as he turned to find the other, his helmet connected with a gun barrel.

“Don’t move!”

He tilted his head just a few millimetres, enough to see hit attacker. The rifle barrel was touching his face and would be enough to kill him, should the soldier fire. He looked down at the man’s uniform to see he was a member of Col Moshin, the 9
^th
Parachute Assault Battalion. He had heard of the Italian Special Forces but never met them. It got questions rolling around in his head about their mission, but he knew he must first deal with the matter at hand.

Taylor wanted to reveal who he was and try to plead with the man to see sense, but he knew he could not. His identity must remain a secret for as long as possible.

“What are you doing here?” asked Taylor. “Do you want to see whole cities wiped out by these weapons?”

“Put down your weapon!” the soldier replied.

“You have to know you’re on the wrong side in this war?”

“Put down your weapon!” he yelled, just a few decibels higher.

A man who stuck to his principles, something which could be respected in all other walks of life, except when they were Taylor’s enemy. Harris rushed into view with several other of his platoon. The Italian soldier pulled Taylor in close, using him as a human shield.

“Let him go!” screamed Harris. His faceplate was raised from where he was clearly trying to get a little more air than his suit was providing. Taylor wished he could have such a luxury. Harris looked ready to fire at a moment's notice, and that was never going to endear the Italian to them.

“Put down your weapons or he dies.”

There was no option left but for Taylor to get out of it himself. His rifle was slung on his back and out of reach, and he could not stretch across his Assegai or reach down for his sidearm without raising attention. His shield was still attached to his arm, and he knew it was his best bet. He looked down to see the Italian’s foot beside him, and in one quick action smashed the shield down onto his foot.

The impact was hard enough it cracked the cap of the boot and crushed several bones in the man’s foot. He screamed in pain as he fell back, and his rifle fired a single shot that went only a few centimetres high of the Colonel. Taylor swung the shield around. He smashed it with both hands into the man, knocked him off his feet, and launched him into the air until his head connected with a support beam. His body passed beneath, snapping his neck, and he dropped limply to the floor.

He turned back and could see Harris looking impressed, although he would never admit it. He was surprised the action had been over so quick.

“How many were there?”

“Four.”

“Four? That was it?”

He knew in that moment that they were good. They had presented the image of a much larger threat than they really were, and against most other units it would have worked. But Taylor was either too experienced or too desperate to have been stopped by the danger.

“What the hell are they even doing up here? Special Forces on a guard duty?”

“I don’t think they were sent here to guard anything. I think they were sent to hunt whoever came aboard, and I’d be willing to bet we’ll see plenty more trouble coming our way before this is over.”

* * *

“How much longer do we have to hold?”

“Until the job is done, Parker!” snapped Jones.

He rose up from their barricade and fired a few more shots. As he ducked back down, he was suddenly struck with how bizarre it felt to fight an enemy who were fearful of advancing and scared of death.

Fighting humans isn’t all bad,
he thought to himself, but he soon realised he didn’t believe it. Parker slid back her visor to let some air in.

“Think Taylor made it?”

Jones wanted to believe he had, the same as the rest of them.

“If anyone can do it, he can.”

At least it was what Parker wanted to hear.

The gunfire from their enemy suddenly stopped, and with it, so did their own as they no longer had any targets. Jones knew they hadn’t beaten their attackers, so it only made him feel uncomfortable.

“What are they doing?” asked Herrera.

“Whatever it is, it can’t be good,” replied Parker.

As she said it, they heard the familiar heavy footsteps of Mech soldiers stomping towards them. Parker shook her head in disbelief. “Not this again.”

Gunshots rang out before she’d even finished, and they were quick to respond. Jones took aim when he saw dozens of Mechs were pouring towards them. As they knocked a few down, they could see human soldiers behind, using the Mechs as a screen to cover ground. Explosions rang out, hitting all around them, and they were soon engulfed in smoke used to further screen the enemy advance.

Seconds later, a Mech rushed through the smoke over their barricade and came at Jones, firing and with no intent to stop. Jones leapt out of the line of fire and smashed the Mech’s weapon aside with the barrel of his own, but it was not enough to stop the charge of the creature. It tumbled into him and knocked him to the ground, toppling onto him and almost crushing him to death.

Jones struck forward at the faceplate of the Mech’s armour, but his hardest strike was not enough to break through. He tried to reach for his Assegai, but he was pinned under the alien and its weapon. It raised itself up for just a moment so that it could strike down with a thunderous blow towards his head. It would have been enough to crush his helmet and kill him instantly.

He took the split second opportunity he had to kick up with his legs and throw the Mech sideways. The creature's fist smashed into the floor barely a few centimetres from his head and dented the floor beside him. He drew his Assegai with his left hand and thrust it into the creature’s stomach. It recoiled in pain, but then spun around and struck out with its last breath. The strike hit Jones’ helmet and knocked him out cold.

* * *

Taylor was still on the move and every second praying they could make it in time. It was still a long way to the centre of the vast facility when they came up against warning signs of high explosives. He stopped; they were inside a vast missile silo.

“These go off with gunfire?” he asked.

Sergeant Herbert shrugged his shoulders, as none of them knew for sure.

“All right, we can’t take the chance. Rifles down. Nobody fires a shot until we’re free and clear.”

He let his rifle hang down at his side and drew out his Assegai.

“Why don’t we just blow this place from here?” asked Harris.

Taylor thought about it for a moment. He wanted nothing more than to put an end to it there and then and be on his way, but he thought back to what they had seen on their route in. Taking out a single silo could not destroy the vast complex. It would be isolated from the grid and do little to help.

“No, we stick to the plan.”

He felt more than a little vulnerable and naked without his rifle in hand. They were going deeper and deeper into enemy territory with just a handful of fighters. He was anxious now, scared even. He tried hard to keep his breathing in check and put one foot in front of the other. It was when he thought of Parker and Jones and all his others comrades aboard the Nassau that his willpower really kicked in.

The platoon took a bend and found a line of guns trained on them. They froze for a moment, but no shots were fired. Taylor pointed to the warning signs that were all around.

“A single shot could blow us all to hell!”

Thirty Italian soldiers stood in front of them ready to open fire, but they turned their attention to what Taylor was pointing to.

“He’s bluffing!” one of them said.

“Look around you!” he shouted back.

He could see the panic start to kick in, but they soon lowered their rifles and drew out Assegais.

“Step aside or you’ll all die here,” said Taylor.

He had no desire to fight them, but neither could he afford to have them stand in his way. No response came, so he strode forward with his shield at the ready. He knew they would make light work of the soldiers who were without shields or the experience of his own troops. Nevertheless, they stood their ground, and when their officer commanded, charged forward.

Taylor ducked under and launched the first soldier over his shield and back into his own ranks. He parried off an Assegai coming at him with his own and kicked the soldier back before driving his own into the flank of another. He did not stop to engage a single one of the troops but worked his way through, allowing the rest of his comrades to get stuck in.

By the time he reached the back rank, two of the troops threw down their weapons and ran.

“Let them go,” said Taylor.

He knew they were terrified enough not to cause any further trouble. He looked back to see the carnage they had created. The floor was thick with human blood and bodies. He did not feel the triumph and pleasure he had when cutting his way through Mechs. It made him feel sick to know he had to do the same to his own people.

“Any casualties?” he asked.

“One dead,” replied Herbert sternly.

“One more than we can afford right now,” he replied.

Taylor didn’t even have time to ask the name of the fallen. He turned and carried on. He knew they couldn’t be too far now, but as they passed into a broad corridor, they heard a large mechanical lurch and looked ahead at the blast doors that were shutting.

“Come on! Run!” he screamed. They rushed at a full sprint for the doorways, but they were closing rapidly. He was at the head of the column and jumped through with ease. Herbert got through after him and two privates, one of which bounced off the doorway and narrowly missed being trapped in the door as he was catapulted into Taylor.

All went silent as the doors sealed shut.

“Sorry, Sir,” insisted the Private.

Taylor helped the man to his feet and could see his name, Private Little, and the other beside him Private Ball. “Shit,” he said to himself. “We’re losing numbers at a hell of a rate.”

“We need to get these doors open sharpish,” said Ball.

“If only, but you saw their depth. More than we can expect to handle anytime soon. We’ve no choice but to go on,” replied Taylor.

“Go on with four men?”

“If only one of us makes it there and gets the job done, then so be it, Ball.”

Taylor turned and led the way. He knew their chances of success with so few were slim now, but he had no choice than to continue. He wanted nothing more than to rip his helmet off and get past the stifling effect of it, but he could not, and he had to bear it for now. The stale smell and taste of his own sweat was killing him now.

Just a little longer,
he told himself.

“You really think we can do this, Sir?”

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think we could, Private Little.”

“Sometimes I just think you hope for the best and fight like hell to make it happen, Sir,” added Herbert.

Taylor was surprised to hear the Sergeant speak, let alone what he said. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah, well, it’s worked so far.”

He prayed the others would find a way to reach them, as well as Grey, but he already suspected they were on their own. It was in that moment he thought back to the gladiatorial fights where he had been paraded about. He felt so alone before such massive crowds, and yet he didn’t now with just a handful of comrades and surrounded by those who wanted to kill him.