The Landfall Campaign (The Nameless War) (24 page)

The near silence returned but at the edge of his hearing, Eulenburg could hear the communications officer holding the connection to New Lexington, begging whoever was on the other end to run.


Contact separation! Ordnance inbound!

called out a sensor operator.


Firer was unidentified enemy warship,

called out another,

provisionally identifying type as Bombard.


Ordnance entering atmosphere, forty-three seconds to splash.

Those were the longest seconds of Eulenburg

s life. On one of the displays was video from a surviving weather satellite. He could see a fiery streak as the projectile plunged down through Landfall

s atmosphere. Then abruptly it disappeared in a sudden brilliant flash, which in turn disappeared as thousands of tons of earth and rock were thrown skyward. The cloud expanded blotting out the surface.


Oh my God,

Reynolds said in a stunned voice.

The British Governor

s breathless exclamation was like a trigger for Four C to leap back into life.


Confirm, direct hit on New Lexington. New Lexington airfield control tower has ceased transmitting.


Command. Projectile appears to be a kinetic strike weapon, estimated yield twenty megatons.


Sir, we have a report channelled from Endeavour Base. The tracking station at Canavan has just been destroyed.


I think the Americans had that one fully automated, at least I hope they did,

Gillum said.

There aren

t that many places still transmitting. Looks like the methodical bastards plan to hit them all.


Command. The enemy task force that just hit New Lexington is altering orbit again.


Are they coming for us?

Reynolds asked. For all her horror just moments before, her voice was remarkably steady now.


We

ll find out very soon.

Eulenburg replied.


Orbital track stabilising. Command, enemy task group has altered course towards us. They

ll pass over Douglas in nineteen minutes sir.


There

s our answer,

Gillum replied.

Admiral, permission to bring missile defence to full readiness.

Eulenburg looked up at one of the displays showing the surface of the base. The resolution wasn

t high enough to make out individuals, only the thousands of men, women and children waiting to get back into the shelter. This was the moment he had feared. Douglas Base was minutes away from changing from a glorified storage depot to a place of war, while he made the final switch from staff officer to military leader.


Yes

set the missiles to standby, order fire control to start generating a firing solution.


Sir, should I inform Brigadier Chevalier?

Gillum asked.


Yes, yes we

d better do that,

the Admiral agreed after a long pause.

___________________________

 


Sir, sir!

the command radio operator called out.

Signal from Four C. New Lexington has just been hit. Orbital strike, they blew it off the map!


Is that all?

Chevalier snapped back him.


The enemy squadron is coming for us. ETA, under twenty minutes.


That

s the important information,

Chevalier snarled at the young man before turning away.

Hundreds of soldiers with raised voices, fists and rifle butts fought to keep order. Groups of civilian policemen from the colonies raced back and forth to hot spots, trying to calm tempers, and settle arguments about people

s place in the queue. The sense of barely contained panic was so strong Chevalier could almost taste it in the air. He flicked his radio over to one of his sub-commander

s frequency.


Colonel Pickette.


Pickette here.


Colonel, we have enemy starships inbound. Missile defence will almost certainly have to fire within the next fifteen minutes. We must move these people further back from the silos.


I can tell you right now sir, that just flat out isn

t going to happen,

Pickette

s voice crackled back.

We

re barely holding them back where they are now. The only thing that

s going to force these people back is lethal force and that would sort of defeat the purpose.


Keep trying Colonel. Over and out.

Chevalier glanced up at the grey sky and then back at the squat grey silos. If those missiles fired, with people as close as they were, there were going to be casualties. Then abruptly things got worse.

Close to the nearest silo, a siren began to sound a long mournful wail. After a few seconds the concrete caps started to slide aside. Even the dimmest civilian knew what this meant. The effect was instant and disastrous.

Up and down the line there were screams and shouts as people panicked en masse. The hundreds of soldiers trying to hold the line were simply overwhelmed as thousands of people start to run between the silos directly for the shelter entrance. Everywhere Chevalier looked people were running, falling or being trampled.


Get away from the silos!

he shouted, but his voice was lost amidst the pandemonium.

Take us in!

he shouted at his driver and with a spray of dirt the scout car took off. The driver took the car into the middle of the swarm as Chevalier shouted but it was hopeless. Then thirty metres away he saw a woman carrying a toddler get knocked off her feet. As he watched she tried to rise but the stampede forced her down. Even as she was trampled she tried to shield her child.

Chevalier reached over and yanked the steering wheel round. They didn

t get far before they reached an almost solid wall of humanity and his driver stood on the brake. As the scout car slid to a halt, Chevalier was up and out of the machine. There was no way an average man could have made his way through the throng, but with his personal armour and its strength amplifying frame, Chevalier forced his way through and dragged the bloodied woman to her feet, her child still clutched in her arms. As he turned to drag them both to the safety of the scout car he heard a rumble in the distance. Chevalier looked round with an expression of horror to see smoke billowing out of two silos. From deep within came the rumble of chemical rockets lighting up.

Chevalier virtually threw the woman into the sheltered lee of the scout car before throwing himself over her. His driver vaulted out of the car and joined Chevalier on the ground. Then two missiles erupted from their silos, belching out flame and smoke.

Brigadier Chevalier had time for a prayer that he might be just far enough away, then everything went black.

___________________________

 


Hostiles are now in range,

came in the report from radar.

Hostiles will be in optimum position to fire on us in four minutes.


Command, Coms. Anshan Base has signalled that the second bombard is approaching them. Tracking data is provided.

Gillum examined the data from the Chinese base.


Looks like the hammer is going to fall here first, sir,

he observed.

Eulenburg had to swallow several times before his mouth managed to generate any saliva.


Fire Control, report,

he asked.


Command, ready missiles are at condition two. We have a firing solution generated for the Bombard plus its escort. I recommend firing from silos B and D.


Recommendation accepted.

Even as he spoke, Eulenburg hoped that the tremble he could hear in his voice was just a figment of his own imagination.


Command, I request authorisation to open silo doors and set missiles to condition one.


Authorisation granted.

On the display the red dots signifying the alien ships continued to creep towards them.


Admiral!

Eulenburg spun towards the shout. A junior lieutenant pointed up at one of the displays of the surface. Thousands of people were running directly for the shelter entrance, through the blast zone of the silos.


Oh
no
,

Eulenburg whispered.


Command, enemy ships approaching optimum firing position. Request weapons release authorisation,

asked the Fire Control officer.

Eulenburg stared at the screen, horrified by what he saw.


Command, request weapons release authorisation. Do I have permission to fire?


Admiral,

Gillum shouted,

we have to fire! We have to fire our missiles!


But the people…


Sir, they will all be dead if we get hit from orbit!

Eulenburg closed his eyes.


Weapons Control,
Fire
.

 

Deep within Silo B the missile waited. Although seventy metres tall, the nose of the missile was still another fifty metres below the surface. The missile had already deployed sideways out of its storage bay and into the launch position. The three other missiles that shared Silo B still waited behind their blast shields. Above a tiny blue grey circle of light was visible where the silo cap had opened.

Targeting data downloaded into the missile from the fire control computers far below in Four C. Fuel started to flow into the reaction chambers of the first stage chemical rockets. Then at a final electrical command the rocket motors fired and the missile lifted away.

It took three seconds for the missile to clear the silo. As the engine nozzles cleared the lip they vomited flames over everything and everyone within hundreds of metres, killing scores of the very people they were designed to protect. But the missile

s computer wasn

t programmed to notice such things. A thousand metres away a second missile burst from Silo D and together they climbed into the sky, their internal radars already seeking the target. At an altitude of seventeen kilometres their chemical rockets shut down and fell away. With barely a pause the fusion engines came online and the rate of acceleration increased fivefold. In spite of this rapid progress at this stage of their climb the missiles were still vulnerable. At fifty kilometres, dispensers started to launch chaff to confuse any possible counter weapons.

The Nameless ship couldn

t have missed seeing the launches from the surface but they were slow to react. The bombard began to take evasive action but it wasn

t a ship designed for great manoeuvrability. Its escorts were starting to close on their larger brethren when the two human missiles breached Landfall

s atmosphere.

Small charges fired within the missile nose cones, breaking them into segments that fell away like the petals of a flower. Revealed within each were four sub-munition missiles and their three companion decoys. As counter missiles from the escorts curved downwards to intercept, the submunitions blasted clear of their housings, leaving the burnt out husks to be blown apart. Rather than two big targets the Nameless were abruptly faced by fourteen small ones. The six decoys raced ahead, their transmitters squealing noise across all the radio bands while jettisoning reflectors that matched the radar profiles of the missiles behind. The bombard and its escorts were faced with too many targets and too little time to sort through them. Of the eight missiles, three were destroyed, two missed completely, one demolished an escort and the final two punched into the bombard.

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