Battle Earth (18 page)

“Sir, I am here to take you to the research facility.”

“Not quite yet, Sergeant, we have a few people to pick up!”

The two men jumped into their jeep and stormed away from the Command Centre, making their way for the Major’s barracks at speeds far beyond those allowed on base. Not a single marine dared confront their breach of base rules, not even the MPs. Major Taylor had always been an important officer on base, leading one of the most advanced and experienced companies in the United States Armies. But now he was not just important, but known. No one would stand in his way.

They reached the barracks and Taylor leapt off, telling the Sergeant to stay put. He rushed into his office to see that Captain Friday was already writing out the reports for the release and request of the hardware they had tested.

“Captain, bring that with you, we have a new task on our hands!”

Friday leapt from his chair and was out the door with his datapad in a split second. Taylor had always appreciated the fact that the Captain never questioned his orders and never dragged his heels. Suarez strolled across the parade square as they jumped into the vehicle.

“Lieutenant! You’re in charge until we return!” Taylor ordered.

The Major looked back to Captain Friday who was in the back of the Jeep

“Captain, we’re en route to oversee a special mission, I need you to contact Eddie Rains and tell him to meet us at...”

Taylor looked to the General’s driver who was at the wheel.

“Where are we headed, Sergeant?”

“Hangar 89.”

“Got it, Major.”

“And tell him to bring three capable pilots with him!” Taylor added.

It was half an hour before they arrived at the giant hangar that was situated a way out from the base and on the edge of a vehicle-testing zone. It was an isolated and desolate area with vast open plains surrounding it. The three men stopped their vehicle outside, the small jeep was dwarfed by the huge storage facility.

The hangar had little sign of activity, with just one small guardroom built onto the front. It appeared to be a sleepy old structure, forgotten and lost in time, in lieu of the modern structures they now operated from.

“I thought this place went inactive twenty years ago?” said Friday.

“I guess some things are just above our pay grade,” replied Taylor.

A vehicle approached from the direction they had come. The Major turned to see the familiar sight of Eddie Rains’ faded red bandana wrapped around his head as he sat up on the back of the vehicle. Dust kicked up all around them and into their eyes as the vehicle slid to a halt and the pilots leapt out. Ever the gung ho rule breakers, it was if they simply rebelled as a matter of tradition.

“You got a job for us, Major?” Rains called.

“That’s right, Eddie, it’ll be wild, dangerous, and you’d be an idiot to accept it!”

The Lieutenant turned to his friends with a smile.

“You called the right men, Major!”

Two men appeared from the guard station and they were well equipped. Far from the old and out of shape old soldiers that were employed to guard most storage depots, they were young and fit. They wore full battle attire and didn’t lack an ounce of professionalism.

“Welcome to Hangar 89, gentlemen, home to every secret project and finding since this base opened.”

“You’re not just the General’s driver are you, Sergeant?”

“No, Sir, I am his liaison to this facility and advisor on all matters involving it.”

“A lot of responsibility for a Sergeant.”

“I retired a Major, Sir, then worked for the CIA. I was posted to him with the rank of Sergeant and as the General’s driver as to maintain anonymity in my work.”

The security guards looked at them from a distance, studying every element of the men who stood before them. They’d already been given clearance for the facility, and the guards never moved closer than ten metres. A large door opened in the front of the hangar that was large enough for a truck to drive through, but still tiny in comparison to the vast bay doors.

“The hangar is close to half a kilometre long, with three underground levels and two above ground. What is of interest to us today, Major, are the captured enemy vessels.”

“What condition are they in?”

“They aren’t flight worthy if that’s what you’re asking, but there’s plenty of interesting material to salvage from them.”

Gibbons led them through the huge entrance and a temporary corridor existing only to hide whatever the building housed from the outside world. It took a few moments for their eyes to adjust from the striking light of the day to the artificially lit warehouse. Before them were the two craft as the General had said, evidently the latest acquisitions in the hangar. The room stretched as far as they could see with at least a hundred staff members in sight.

“These two craft were captured soon after the Moon base fell. Our intelligence suggests that they were advance patrol ships. One was hit by our fighters and crash landed in the desert, the other was struck by one of our destroyer’s EMP pulse defences when it entered its grid zone.”

“Man, I’d love to take one out for a spin,” said Rains.

“Well that’s not far from the reality of the situation, Lieutenant. The plan is to retrofit the alien engine tech to something you lot can fly. We need something fast enough to outrun whatever they’ve got so that you lot can get to the Moon and back.”

“There are survivors, Sir?”

“That’s right, Rains, lots of them. We need to deliver food and weapons to the survivors who are still putting up a fight there.”

One of the other pilots jumped into the conversation before the Major could continue.

“But we’re aerial pilots, Sir, space isn’t our domain.”

“Well that is true, son,” said the Sergeant. “However, we need combat pilots for this mission, not space haulers. Now, every minute we waste puts more lives at risk.”

“You heard the man, Rains. Our task is to get supplies to the Moon survivors as quickly as possible. In my book, that means tomorrow. Our task is to get two vessels kitted out with the enemy engine technology and en route by then, with you boys at the stick.”

“It’s a tall order, Sir,” Rains replied. “It takes experts months and years to design aircraft, how are we going to manage it by tomorrow?”

“Look, we aren’t designing anything from scratch. This is a bodge job. We use the smallest space worthy vessels available and strap on those alien engines, job done!”

“It’s a crazy idea, Major, but what we come out with will be badass!” shouted Rains.

Eddie stepped down the ramps to look over the damaged alien vessels that were laid out across the floor. He was admiring the fuselages that didn’t resemble anything he was familiar with.

“You think it can be done, Eddie?”

“Damn right, Sir, you want us to build a monster, that idea tickles me just a little.”

“Right then, get to work. Whatever you build doesn’t have to be pretty. It just has to work. I will arrange what cargo you’ll need to take, but the experts here have already found the best ships to start work with, get on it!”

Eddie lifted his arm in an almost comical salute with a broad grin across his face. Anyone else would have been beside themselves if they’d been asked to do what Eddie was, but he found the challenge entertaining.

Taylor had Captain Friday assemble a viable supply list that night. A list that would be vital for the survivors as well as feasible to carry on the new ships they were building. He left Eddie, his pilots and the tech guys to work that day and night, knowing there was nothing more he could do.

It was another uneasy night for the Major, knowing the pressure he was under to succeed in what could only be called an insane mission. Yet another night he slept alone for the few uncomfortable hours that he could manage. He had never longed for Eli Parker’s company. They’d fallen into bed when the time was right. Now he was beginning to wish she was home to greet him, to have some comfort in difficult times.

Waking up in a sticky sweat, Taylor pulled his uniform on as he begrudgingly imagined the results of their project. He had faith in Eddie Rains, even if he did resemble a drug-crazed hippy. The Lieutenant was one of the best pilots and most competent men he’d ever known. He just didn’t like to be seen as such.

The horn on Gibbon’s vehicle blared out violently outside before he’d even got his gun on his side. It was a make or break day for the supply drops to the stricken colonists. Many thousands of lives were depending on him and the project, he only prayed that they could succeed. Mitch ran down to the vehicle below, sweat already dripping through his clothes.

“Fine day for it, Major!” shouted Gibbons.

“If we were on the beach, there was no war and we had a bar full of ice cold beers, I might agree with you, Sergeant!”

Taylor climbed aboard, his concern transparent despite the fact that he tried to hide it beneath locker room humour.

“Don’t worry, Major, I’ve already been down to the hangar. Your boys have been working straight through the night, they’ve done more than anyone could have expected of them.”

The Major shook his head in gratitude and relief.

“Right then, let’s see it for ourselves!”

Approaching the hangar across the long open plain, Mitch could see that the huge hangar bay doors were wide open for all to see. It was perhaps the first time ever during daylight hours for a century.

“Nothing to hide anymore, Major. In a matter of hours, every son of a bitch on this base is gonna know about our creations, no point wasting time hiding now.”

“You really think they are gonna work?”

Gibbons nodded with a nervous expression on his face.

“I damn well hope so, Major.”

Pulling up outside the doors, Taylor could see that Eddie was walking around the nose of the vessel they’d been working on, admiring his work or perhaps inspecting it. There were two ships, one in front of the other. They were Lampeter class ‘spaceboats’. A small but armoured ship capable of carrying a hundred soldiers and equipment, or plenty of supplies. It was intended to act as a military transport and supply vessel.

A fraction of the size of the Deveron they had previously travelled on to the Moon, and substantially faster. It was mainly intended to act as a fast deployment vessel during any public disturbances, allowing earth forces to rapidly deploy troops to the Moon or any of the Space stations.

“You like her, Sir?”

“If it does the job, Eddie!”

The quirky pilot turned to greet the Major.

“It’s like the old fast boats the drug cartels used to outrun the authorities back in the day.”

Taylor looked around the fuselage of the vessel, it had two alien engines fitted, one slung under the belly, the other sitting on the top.

“We’ve kept her original engines, Sir. She was a fast bird to begin with, probably not enough to outrun what we’re facing, but a good start. With these wondrous beasts bolted onto her and she’ll outfly anything we’ve ever seen!”

“I certainly hope so. How much of the cargo capacity have you lost adding these things?”

“Nothing at all, Major. The energy sources those alien bastards use are fascinating, everything we have fitted is external. The tech guys here have worked out the engine tech, it’ll be a while till they understand the weapon systems and that chameleon tech they have.”

“So you think this can work? What’s your ETA?”

“This baby is ready, Sir, other one is having finishing touches. Captain Friday already has our cargo en route, I hope to be in the air in two hours.”

“Isn’t that a little premature, Lieutenant, you haven’t even tested these things yet?”

“We’ve tested everything we need to, Sir. The ships run just as they used to, the alien engines fire up and work as they should, any flight runs would just draw attention to ourselves.”

The Major nodded. He didn’t like the situation, but knew that under the wartime conditions they faced, some risks had to be taken.

“Lieutenant, I’ll leave you to it, let me know when you’re ready to fly.”

“Yes, Sir!”