Portal Wars 1: Gehenna Dawn (29 page)

The anger was rising again in Taylor’s voice.
It was never far below the surface anymore, a bubbling rage ready
to escape at the slightest instigation. “That is my purpose now,
John. Nothing else matters to me, and there is nothing I will not
do to achieve what must be done.” His expression softened slightly
as he gazed into MacArthur’s eyes. “And if you and your people are
truly willing to join us, I for one, will be very grateful.”

MacArthur nodded his head slowly. He was
silent for a moment, but his face looked calm, settled. “Like I
said, Jake, I’m with you.” He paused briefly. “But it’s not just
me. We’re all with you. My aircrews, the engineers, the transport
teams. Everybody.” He extended his hand toward Taylor, even
managing a thin smile. “Now let’s make the bastards pay.”

“Jake, you’re wrong this time.” There weren’t
many people with the balls to tell Taylor to his face he was wrong,
but Tony Black was one of them. “We’re better off spreading out,
manning all the strong points. Make the bastards run all over,
sweating their balls off trying to dig us out.” Black’s voice had a
vindictive edge to it. Clearly, he relished the thought of
unacclimated UN enforcers trying to assault strongholds under the
burning Erastus suns. “The troops they send through are probably
going to be inferior on a man for man basis, but you know they’re
going to outnumber us. Probably by a lot. Why not let the planet
wear them down as much as possible?”

Taylor sat quietly, listening to what his
second in command had to say. Finally he waved for the short,
stocky officer to take one of the seats next to him. He trusted
Black’s judgment, and he knew there was sense in what his friend
was saying. But Taylor had decided exactly what he wanted to do.
His anger had cleared his mind, and his focus was razor sharp.

“You’re right, Blackie.” Taylor wiped the
back of his neck with a small white towel as he spoke. They were
down in the equatorial zone, gathering equipment and supplies from
the garrisons moving north. Years in the desert had weakened his
acclimation to the extreme humidity, and he was really feeling it.
“Or at least you might be if I wanted to fight a conventional
campaign. But that would take too long. Besides, if they were smart
they’d just mask our strongpoints and wait us out. Our supplies are
limited; theirs aren’t. Not if we hole up in our bases and give
them unchallenged access to the Portal. If we let them pin us down
we’re screwed.”

Black dropped hard into the chair, letting
out a deep breath as he did. “OK, Jake.” There was partial
capitulation in his voice. “Maybe you’re right…maybe we’d just end
up besieged. But then why not defend the Portal, hit them as they
emerge? Why let them come through and deploy? Do we need to give up
all that advantage when we can be waiting just this side of the
transit point and hit them as they come out?” Black wasn’t arguing
with Taylor. He was genuinely questioning, his tone one of
confusion, not debate.

“I don’t want to hold them back, Blackie.”
There was a confidence and a coldness in Taylor’s voice that sent a
chill down Black’s spine. He couldn’t tell if Jake was sure he was
right, or if he just didn’t care enough about surviving to worry
about it. “If we defend the Portal, we’ll bottle them up. They
won’t get a fraction of their total force through.”

“Isn’t that the point?” Black sounded even
more confused. “Doesn’t that give us an edge, balance out their
numerical superiority?”

“Conventionally, yes.” Taylor’s voice was
cold, analytical. “But I don’t want to defend against them,
Blackie.” There was a short pause. “I want to annihilate them. I
want to kill every soldier they muster to send here.” There wasn’t
a shred of doubt as he spoke, just icy determination. “If we hold
the line at the Portal, the fighting will drag on forever. But
there’s a limit to the force they can put together on short notice,
and the arrogant bastards will send it all through at once if we
let them…I’m sure of it.” Taylor paused for a few seconds. “I
intend to let them transit every man they can assemble. Once
they’re all through, we’ll retake the Portal and cut them off.”
Taylor looked right into Black’s eyes as he spoke. “Because I’m
going to let them in…” His words were pure venom. “…but not one of
them is getting out.”

From the Journal of Jake Taylor:

I thought I hated the Machines. I
despised them for what I believed they had done, and for more than
a decade I gleefully gunned them down. I don’t know how many I
personally killed, but it must have been dozens…if not hundreds.
And the men I led killed thousands, tens of thousands. Whatever
else I felt, whatever questions I had about UN Central and the way
my men and I were treated, my anger for the Tegeri and their
bio-mechanical soldiers always flared hot.

I thought I hated them…until I
experienced true hatred. Alien creatures, served up by Earth’s best
propagandists, reach down into a dark place inside us all, stirring
up anger, fear, righteous indignation. But it is human monsters who
have tapped into the true veins of boiling, surging, molten rage
deep inside me. Traitors who betrayed their own people and
massacred thousands of innocents…all so they could enslave the rest
of mankind.

Now the real battle is about to
begin, the fight against the hideous evil that rules mankind. They
turned my men into cyborgs, soulless killing machines to serve
their own purposes. Now they will taste irony as that force is
turned upon them. My soldiers shall be avenging angels, cleansing
the universe of their filth.

I am ready. I am anxious, almost
gleeful at the chance to destroy these soldiers my enemies have
sent to murder my people. I feel the rage day and night, making my
body shake with such force it is all I can do to hold myself still.
Now I know what real fury is. Anger so profound, so primal, it
scares me to my core. I don’t know who or what I am anymore. I feel
as though my soul has been possessed…consumed…by some force, some
demon. The hate I felt for the Tegeri served me, it gave me
strength in my fight, drove me on. But it is I who serve this
hatred, this terrifying lust for vengeance. It is the master, I the
willing slave.

Am I sane? I don’t know. But I am
sure of one thing. I don’t care.

John MacArthur lurched hard to the side as
his Dragonfire gunship loosed two Ripper air-to-air missiles. The
sleek weapons zipped over the scrubby hills below, homing in on the
light fighter he’d spotted. They swung wide, each looping around
and approaching the target from a different side. The fighter pilot
banked hard, trying to evade the fiery death zooming in on him. He
zigzagged past one of the missiles, a temporary respite, as the
Ripper arced around to make a second pass. His efforts were in vain
anyway. The second missile slammed right into his small craft,
practically vaporizing it.

“All ships, shout out those sightings as soon
as you have them.” MacArthur’s birds were deployed on combat air
patrol around the Portal. The UN forces had been pouring through
for two days. They outnumbered the Erastus forces 3-1, and they
were still coming. On the ground, Taylor had positioned only light
forces near the transit point…snipers and small, fast-moving teams.
He didn’t want to stop the enemy’s advance, or even seriously
hinder it. He was just looking to pick off as many as he could, and
put up a show of some sort of defense. Enough, at least, not to
arouse any suspicion that might instill caution in whoever was
commanding the UN force.

The air battle was a different story. Taylor
wanted all those invading ground troops to transit onto Erastus,
where he could engage and destroy them. But he was determined to
keep the enemy air power contained, and prevent as much of it from
transiting as possible. He had the Dragonfires patrolling in
shifts, keeping constant pressure on anything that flew through the
Portal. He’d suspected the UN force wouldn’t anticipate the Erastus
air units would have rallied to him, and he turned out to be right.
The waiting squadrons had quite an element of surprise.

The enemy air units MacArthur’s people were
battling were lighter…small antigrav fighters that were no match
for the massive Dragonfires. Gunships and other heavy craft had to
be brought through in pieces and assembled on planet, and MacArthur
and his birds were keeping the transit zone way too hot for
anything like that to succeed. Taylor didn’t know how much airpower
UN Central would be able to muster on short notice, but he was
determined to keep most of it pinned back behind the Portal.

“I’ve got two bogies just through. They’re
climbing hard.” It was Lieutenant Stewart, skipper of Condor 06. A
good pilot, and probably the best spotter in MacArthur’s entire
force.

“Condor 01 and Condor 02, move to support
Condor 06.” MacArthur snapped the orders into the com. He didn’t
want those enemy birds slipping through. The fight around the
transit point was different than any air battle he’d ever seen. The
immense energy pumped through the Portal to sustain matter
transmission gave off extensive interference, rendering normal
detection equipment inoperative. Even old-fashioned radar was
useless. The only thing that worked was eyeballing targets, and
that meant getting a lot closer than normal.

“Bogie one intercepted.” It was Condor 06
again. Stewart got the first one himself.

MacArthur was happy with his crews. They
weren’t used to fighting almost blind, but so far not an enemy
antigrav made it past them. And he was determined to keep it that
way.

“Bogie two down.” Stewart again. His bird had
gotten both kills before the support even got there.

MacArthur smiled.

“The resistance we have encountered is
extremely light, Mr. Kazan.” Laurence Graves was an imposing
figure, at least 10 centimeters taller and 20 kilos heavier than
Kazan. “The enemy antigravs have been attacking our fighters and
supply shipments incessantly, but we have faced minimal ground
forces so far.”

Kazan stood outside his command vehicle,
sweat pouring down his cheeks. There was an angry scowl on his
face, a mask of arrogance he wore to cover his fear and insecurity.
He had absolute power over the forces invading Erastus, but he had
no illusions about what he faced back home if he returned with
anything short of total success.

“They are a rabble, Colonel Graves.” Despite
his position in the Department of Military Affairs, Kazan
understood remarkably little of the realities of war. “Your forces
should have no difficulty sweeping them from the field.”

Graves was uncomfortably silent for a moment.
His career had been spent putting down protests and riots, not
fighting veteran armies. He wasn’t sure what to expect from these
Erastus soldiers, but he suspected they were going to be a lot
tougher than Kazan suggested. These weren’t civilians armed with
clubs and knives, rioting for food…they were seasoned soldiers
defending a battlefield familiar to them and unrelentingly hostile
to his own troops.

“Sir…” Graves had enough experience dealing
with government officials to know he had to tread carefully with an
arrogant ass like Kazan. “…I strongly advise caution, at least
until we can get a good idea of what we face. We don’t want…”

“What we face are criminals, Colonel.” Kazan
interrupted, his voice heavy with arrogance. “Nothing more. And we
will not delay any further.”

“Secretary Kazan…” Under-Secretary was a
cumbersome title to keep repeating, and Graves figured the informal
courtesy promotion would only stroke the vain fool’s ego. “…I
remind you that we did not expect the air units to rally to the
rebel forces.” He paused for an instant. “Yet, it appears they
have, and in significant numbers.” He could tell he wasn’t getting
anywhere with Kazan, but he wasn’t ready to give up yet. “Do we
know if the engineers have also joined this Colonel Taylor and his
troops?” Graves paused, but Kazan just stared at him. “Sir, I am
only suggesting that we hold some units in reserve back on the
Earth side of the Portal. Just to be cautious.”

“I want the entire force together, Colonel.
That means every man is to transit as quickly as possible.” Kazan’s
voice was all bravado, but beneath there was a shakiness he was
trying to hide. He wasn’t sure if Graves’ concerns were reasonable,
but he did know that he was under considerable pressure to produce
results on Erastus. Quickly. If he moved slowly, if no progress
reports made it back to UN Central, it was only a matter of time
before Keita – and Samovich – lost what little patience they had.
That would be a bad day for Kazan…he was sure of that.

He turned toward Graves and stared at the
colonel intently. “As quickly as possible. Do we understand each
other, Colonel?”

“They’re pulling back, sir. We’ve secured the
western half of the headquarters complex.” Captain Shinto was
excited, but all his parched throat could manage was a hoarse
croak. The heat on Erastus was like nothing he’d ever experienced.
At least half his troops were down with hyperthermia, and the rest
were barely effective. He’d expected to encounter a significant
enemy force defending the HQ complex, but there couldn’t have been
200 in total, and most of those pulled back after a nasty
firefight.

“Very well, Captain.” Colonel Graves’ voice
was crisp and clear, but then he was in a climate controlled
command vehicle while Shinto and his people were out in the blazing
sun. “You are to push on and take the remainder of the
complex.”

Shinto almost groaned out loud. He’d started
his assault with 1,100 troops, but he doubted there were more than
300 left standing. Most of his losses were from the heat, but the
Erastus forces had taken down at least 200 of his men before they
pulled back. He had no idea how many casualties his forces had
inflicted, but he was sure it was a lot fewer.