Battle Earth II (9 page)

* * *

Jones stepped through into Phillips command vehicle.

“Ah, Captain, I assume the Major has sent you forth?”

“Yes, Sir,” he muttered.

“Take a seat, all of you.”

The three officers sat about the briefing table as the Commander walked around them in deep thought. They all knew that a grilling was coming. Phillips smiled as he paced around them all. They had all contravened his orders, and in doing so left them still in France.

“Captain Jones. Did I not give you a direct order to ensure that you were to ship out yesterday?”

He continued to pace around the room, speaking in a slow and steady voice.

“Did I not give you those exact orders in person?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Major Chandra, was I unclear about the time and location of your pickup?”

“No, Sir!” she exclaimed.

“Did I not specifically order you not to pursue Major Taylor?”

Chandra turned and glared at him. She knew they had done the right thing. Commander Phillips knew they had also, but he could not let them get away with breaking his orders so easily.

“And, Captain Friday, were you not posted to the western lines?”

“Yes, Sir, though our patrol was over, so we pursued the Major in our down time.”

The Commander spun around, glaring at the Captain and ready to explode. He took a deep breath and calmed himself.

“You are the officer who is least in the wrong here, Captain.”

He shook his head. He wanted to discipline them, but he knew that ultimately they had done the right thing. He rested on the back of his chair and looked up.

“I know I’ll get nowhere with this. The Major needed help. You put further troops at risk. This time it worked out, and I am glad we have Taylor back. But I cannot have my officers disobeying my orders. Without discipline, we are lost.”

“It won’t happen again, Commander,” said Chandra.

Phillips nodded. He had no doubt that they would do the same thing again under similar circumstances, but he’d have to live with it.

“Sir, what happened to our orders to return home?” asked Jones.

“Our last planes have already left. Command has instructed us to now stay and assist with the defence of Paris.”

“With what, Sir? We can’t even muster two platoons between us,” stated Chandra.

Phillips pulled out his chair and sat down with a weary sigh.

“The remnants of a company from the Royal Welsh Fusiliers are still active in the city. They fought at Nantes and all the way back to here, and they are a tough bunch of lads. The truth is, you have too many officers and they have too few. Just one Lieutenant left amongst them.”

The Commander tapped a few buttons at the side of the table, causing it to light up with a map display of their defences.

“The bridge that you engaged the Mechs at yesterday during Taylor’s rescue, it’s a solid position to defend, as you had clearly already realised. I am merging the Welsh into the 2
^nd
Inter-Allied. I am also having any Brits still in the field hospitals ready to return to duties sent to you.”

“Sounds like a real cluster fuck,” said Friday.

“It’s far from ideal, Captain, but I can only work with what I have. I will be working with Brigadier Dupont from now on and will remain under his command for the foreseeable future. I figure that you should be able to muster a couple of hundred soldiers at that bridge.”

Jones shook his head in astonishment. They all knew they were scraping the barrel.

“And armour, Sir?”

“I should be able to get you a detachment from the German division, but it’s not going to be much. You are to be stationed at the bridge until further notice. You can take up residence in the nearby buildings. I’ll ensure supplies are brought to you.”

Chandra looked down at the map. She could see a vast amass of troops along the west and south perimeter of the city.

“Sir, are we expecting an attack in the north?”

“I wouldn’t be putting you there if I didn’t think so, Major. Based on what we have seen the last two days, we expect a major offensive is imminent. Paris stands in defiance. If they think at all like us, they’ll not want it to stay that way.”

“Air cover, Sir?” asked Jones.

“Limited. They’ve taken a real beating this last week. What is left has little ordnance left to shoot.”

“Then we’re in for a rough ride,” Friday mused.

“Will that be all, Sir?” asked Chandra.

“Affirmative, Major. You are to take up positions at the bridge immediately. I’ll have the troops and supplies sent to you as and when they become available.”

* * *

“Sergeant Silva!” shouted Taylor.

The Sergeant leapt to his feet and to attention. He had been cleaned up, but his face was still bruised. A bandage wrapped his head to cover the worst of his wounds. Taylor knew he’d be feeling like hell, but he didn’t show it. Seeing the battered Sergeant made him realise quite how rough he himself must look to those around him.

“Grab your gear, we’ve been re-assigned.”

“Which of us, Sir?”

“Just you and me, Sergeant.”

Parker leapt to her feet.

“What it to become of us, Sir?” she insisted.

He stopped and looked across at the faces of the few marines and paras that had survived the onslaught of little over a week of fighting. They looked far from impressed by the news. Ortiz and Campbell took their place among them, not wanting to be under the glare of the troops.

“I want to thank you all! You saved my life and that of the Sergeant. However, we all have our orders! General White wants me to pursue kit that could even up the odds. I’ll return ASAP with whatever equipment I can beg, borrow or steal that I think could make a difference.”

“Sir,” called Monty. “We may not survive that long.”

Taylor nodded. It was a tough leaving his friends and companions at such a time of need.

“Survivors of the Welsh Fusiliers and a few other units will be joining you shortly to bolster your numbers. The Commander may even be getting some armour support. General White thinks we have an opportunity here, and I will not see that opportunity wasted.”

He could see a number of them nodding in appreciation of the support, but it was also a bitter reminder of the tremendous losses they had all faced.

“You will remain under the command of Major Chandra. She will see to the organisation of the new troops. Good luck to you all!”

Some of them nodded, but there was little enthusiasm about the Major leaving. He knew there was nothing more that could be said to boost their spirits.

“Silva, let’s move.”

The Sergeant hauled his kit onto his shoulder with a groan from the various bruises in his body. The two marines strolled on towards the landing zone. As they took a bend around one of the vehicles, they were met by the sight of Sergeant Parker blocking their path. She stood for a second with a saddened expression before taking flight and launching herself at the Major.

Silva turned away as they embraced and kissed. He wanted to give them privacy, just as much as he wanted plausible deniability. Taylor finally put her down and she passed off between them. He turned to watch her leave and then looked back to the Sergeant.

“You know back home you’d probably lose your command for such activity, Sir?”

“But we aren’t at home, Sergeant. We’re in a god damn hell hole and with no end in sight. It’s the very last of my concerns.”

Silva nodded.

“As long as you don’t try and kiss me like that, Sir.”

Taylor chuckled as he patted the Sergeant on the back.

* * *

Parker returned to the camp just as Chandra and Jones came to a standstill at the edge. She had gotten rid of the crutch and was supporting her own bodyweight.

“The Commander has a bridge he wants us to defend, and you can probably guess its location.”

“You coming with us, Major?” asked Parker.

“Officially, no, I cannot return to combat duties until this leg is fully recovered. Between us, I can manage a rifle, so I’ll be there with you. Gear up! We leave in five!”

The troops jumped to life. It was clear that they were still not at all content with Taylor’s departure, but her presence had softened the blow a little. Sergeant Parker strode up to her with an inquisitive look.

“Taylor really doing what you say? Looking for super weapons that could change this war?”

She didn’t much like the Sergeant’s tone, nor her lack of respect, but she sympathised with Eli.

“That is what I have been told, Sergeant.”

Chandra took a step closer so that she could speak more quietly, and the other troops could not hear.

“Taylor is going to be fine. He’ll be in a safer place than any of us. Right now you need to focus on keeping yourself and the rest of us alive.”

Parker nodded as she grit her teeth. She knew she was letting her emotions get in the way of her job and acting in an unprofessional manner. After all that she had been through, it was difficult not to have Taylor at the centre of her thoughts.

“We’ll make it through this, Eli. I just need you to do your job,” whispered Chandra.

Eli smiled as she lifted her shoulders a little higher and regained her composure.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“That’ll be all, Sergeant.”

It was not long before they reached the bridge they had fought over just a day before. The wreckage of the Mechs was still on the site, though it had been hauled out of the vehicular route by the armoured units in the area. It was as desolate and quiet as when they had arrived the first time. It was clear to Chandra that they had few troops to divert to the defence of the northern districts.

“I want trenches either side of the bridge! Fortify the buildings this side!”

She beckoned for the two Captains to assemble at her side as the others got to work.

“You think we can hold here?” asked Jones.

“Your guess is as good as mine, Captain. We have our orders, and we’ll do our utmost to fulfil them.”

They looked across the bridge to the wreckage of the Mechs and down the long empty road before them.

“What kind of strength do we anticipate them to come in?” asked Friday.

Chandra shook her head.

“No idea, Captain. Dupont believes that an attack will come. The resistance Taylor faced yesterday would support that.”

“And if we can’t hold?” asked Jones.

“We’ll do what we can. Worst case, we move further in towards the city. If we can’t hold onto Paris, it does not bode well for the rest of Europe.”

“Perhaps you should have returned home. The channel has saved you many times throughout history,” said Friday.

“We stand together or not at all, Captain. No one nation can stand against the invaders. I can’t deny I’d gladly return to England, but it would only delay our fight a little longer.”

“And when the fight goes to America, what will you do Friday?” asked Jones.

“I’ll fight wherever I am ordered, or wherever I may be. We don’t fight as nations any longer. We are a world united.”

Chandra agreed as she stared back down the bridge in deep thought.

“To think this is what it took to finally bring us together, an apocalyptic war which could end our race.”

“It won’t last,” said Jones. “Everyone always wants more, and the Mechs want what we’ve got. If we ever win here, we’ll only want to take what is theirs.”

“War is in our blood, Jones, in the fibre of our species.”

Chandra dipped her head, overcome by the realisation that there was no end in sight. Was this to be her life, to fight until her last breath? She was alerted to the sound of tracks that wiped all the troubling thoughts from her mind. She turned to see a dust cloud emanating from between the buildings they had recently passed.

The three officers stood and stared at the sight as twelve tanks rolled into view, and the rest of the company cheered them on.

“Looks like the Commander came through,” said Jones.

The vehicles had German crosses painted onto their bodies and showed significant wear and repair from recent combat. The lead tank rumbled up and stopped just a few metres ahead of them. The roof hatch opened in the broad and flat turret. A sharply dressed officer in a black tanker’s suit stood up before them. His clean and well cut uniform was in stark contrast to his dusty and scarred tank.

“Major Chandra?”

He spoke in a coarse and distinctly German accent. He stood upright and proud, and with his arm resting on the holster about his waist. She could make out his rank.

“You’re in the right place, Captain.”

“Captain Becker, at your service.”

The German had a friendly grin spanning across his face and showing off his gleaming white teeth. He was a man who cared for his appearance more than most soldiers. It was obvious they had been involved in plenty of action in the previous week, but he looked as if he could have been on the parade ground.

“Good to have you, Captain.”

“Your orders, Major.”

“We are to hold this bridge until told otherwise, Captain. I suggest you go hull down.”

Chandra could just see the faintest of emotion in the man’s eyes. The prospect of standing against the Mechs once again was a fearsome one, but he did everything to hide it. He turned to the vehicles in his column and was already barking orders into his mic.