Battle Earth III (8 page)

* * *

Four weeks had passed, and the Major had seen nobody but his guards. The dim-witted and obnoxious military police revelled in their power over a high-ranking officer. The fact that he was American made them enjoy it all the more. He resigned himself to little more than exercising in his cell and lying in a dream for the rest of it.

Schulz can’t leave me to rot forever.
He hadn’t received any news from his guards. He knew that he hadn’t been moved, and so Ramstein had remained in human hands for all that time. It was some relief at least. But Taylor thought of his friends and his Company.
What price were they paying for holding the line, and what crap had Schulz
thrown them in to?

The more Taylor thought about his friends, the angrier he became that he was not able to be there for them. He tried his best to remain calm, but the sound of every vehicle and distant rumbling of artillery reminded him of them. Every night he was haunted by the hallowed eyes of Jones the last time he’d seen the Captain. He had long dreamt of getting his friend back, only to lose him again.
They probably put him in a
mad house,
he thought.

Taylor’s calm snapped, and he leapt up from his bed. He rushed up to the bars of his cage and whaled on them.

“Get me the fuck out of here! Get me out! Get me out!”

* * *

Chandra sat at the bottom of a muddy trench on the south side of the base. The occasional artillery round screamed overhead, but the line had become oddly tranquil over the last day. She sat with a mug of tea, treasuring the moment. She leaned back and looked up into the bright blue sky where there was not a cloud in sight.

Looking into the warm sky, she could forget for just a few moments about the desolate landscape around her that had been ravaged by the war. Few trees stood that were not blackened and burnt. The roads had been smashed by artillery until the concrete and mud beside it mixed into almost uniformed rubble.

The defences of the base consisted of miles of trench works and bunkers. They were the only cover that would be erected in time. She could hear footsteps squelching towards her. The floorboards could only stave off the worst of the rain that rarely let up for more than a day or two. The footsteps were light. Gone were their Reitech suits.

They were reduced to the same frightened troopers that huddled underground and prayed to only tackle the enemy in vastly superior numbers. They were nothing compared to their enemy, man for man. Friday strode into view with a smile on his face. He rarely showed any dismay or sadness.
Perhaps he hid it well,
she thought.

“Major, we’ve just been sent a request for a platoon to fetch and carry.”

She shook her head in disbelief.

“Will it ever stop?” she sighed.

“The General will get bored of punishing us eventually, I’m sure.”

She turned and looked into his face to see if he really believed what he was saying. Friday always seemed so convincing that it was hard not to believe him.

“Relay the order and have a platoon get on it.”

Friday turned to leave, but Chandra interrupted him.

“Captain, there’s no rush...”

He turned around to see she was offering him a mug of tea. He smiled politely. Chandra could see he’d wished it was coffee, and that made her grin.

“All these years, and we still can’t civilise you into the finer things.”

He took the mug and sat down beside her. He sighed as his body creaked from being on his feet.

“Any news from the US?”

“Bits and pieces, but you probably know more than me.”

“Na, my intel dried up a long time ago. You probably hear more around the mess than I get at briefings.”

“Then there ain’t a lot to say. Most of the major cities on the eastern seaboard are rumoured to have gone, and they’re now dug in like us.”

Chandra sipped back on her tea. They’d seen plenty of action the last few weeks, but nothing that came close to the seat of your pants fighting when Taylor was still around.

“You miss him, don’t you?” asked Friday.

She smiled.

“Not in that way, Captain. Life was a whole lot more interesting with Taylor around. We were always at the forefront of the fighting, and we were making a difference every day. What are we now? Reduced to line duty. We’re better than this, all of us, and wasted because a General got pissed off.”

“Would you take it back? I mean, Taylor’s mission. Would you have stopped him, having known what you do now?”

She shook her head.

“No, never! We had a responsibility to the comrades that had been lost. If the General couldn’t see that, then that is his weakness, not ours.”

“I hear it caused quite a stir among the Commanders, sounds like he didn’t get off lightly either.”

“That more scuttlebutt, Captain?” she asked.

Friday chuckled at her awkward usage of his services slang.

“No, Ma’am.”

Chandra took some pleasure in the news. She’d heard as such herself, but it was nice to have it confirmed. Schulz should never have forced Taylor and herself into the situation. But with Commander Phillips gone, she had little influence or ways of changing their lot.

“Word is that the Reitech suits are out for issue, reckon we’ll see ‘em anytime soon?”

“Fat chance, Schulz will make it his mission to ensure that we never see such hardware again. He wouldn’t want us to actually make any progress in this war?”

“Asshole.”

She nodded in agreement.

“Our time will come again, Captain. We can’t have come all this way to be relegated to the bench. The war is far from over, and we’ll be needed soon enough.”

A runner came hurtling down the trenches towards them. Monty appeared from around a corner and came to a quick halt in front of them.

“Ma’am, orders from command. They want a platoon to join a scouting party to the west.”

“Why the urgency, Private?”

“Orders, Ma’am.”

“Alright, relay them to Lieutenant Yorath, and have him follow out the orders.”

Friday turned to the Major.

“It’s alright, I’ll do it. Yorath’s been through enough shit. My platoon will handle it.”

She nodded in gratitude for his kindness.

“Alright, Captain. You want it, you got it.”

* * *

The heavy brig doors creaked along the corridor. Taylor knew the guards’ routine. The only reason for their presence now would be to bring in a new prisoner, or escort one out. He didn’t flinch from the position he lay in his bed. He’d been given nothing to read or to work his mind. Weeks passed with nothing to do but contemplate and replay recent events in his mind.

The sidewalls of the cell meant he could only see one other of the cages opposite him, but it was empty. He heard the wails of a few other prisoners held there, but they were mostly soldiers who had lost their minds. Four sets of footsteps approached. In his stay there, the Major had only ever heard two or three approach at any one time. He could already guess that their presence related to him.

As the steps got louder, the Major sat up in his tiny bed and rested back against the wall. He remained calm and slouched. He would never give those who detained him the satisfaction of feeling he was at their beck and call.

Two guards came into view and placed themselves either side of the barred door. General Dupont and his assistant strode up to the entrance and halted quickly at the bars. The Frenchman stared in at the Major with curiosity but made no request for the door to be opened. The four men stood before the bars of his cell as if waiting for his move.

“Can I do something for you gentlemen?” Taylor asked.

He knew that it infuriated the guards that he treated them like slaves. They rarely knew whether to treat him as an officer or a prisoner. They all knew that if he ever got out, and was cleared, he would make them suffer for any ill treatment.

“Major Taylor, you are well aware of the reason for your arrest and detainment,” exclaimed Dupont.

“Yes, what of it?”

“I am here to inform you that you will face a military tribunal at some date in the future and that it may become plausible and realistic to do so at a time...”

“Get on with it, General.”

Dupont sighed.

“Your blatant disregard for authority and reckless behaviour has already cost you your command and the lives of more than a few of the soldiers you had a responsibility to.”

Taylor strode up to the bars quickly with a furious expression on his face. He had tried to remain calm during his imprisonment, but the French General made him sick.

“What the hell would you know about responsibility? You saw your country fall and sent armies to the slaughter!”

Dupont smiled with a wicked grin. It amused him that Taylor was behind bars. He could see the hatred that burned inside Taylor. Both men knew that Mitch wanted to tear the General apart. He turned and paced away from the door. He knew there was no way to air his frustration. He finally stopped and turned near his bed.

“At least tell me the status of my Company, and of Captain Jones.”

“They are not your Company, Major. They are our Company, under the Joint European Command. The fact you could not get that into your head is the very reason you stand in that cell today.”

“Please, General, just tell me how my people are.”

“As a result of your actions, they have been removed from the Reiter programme, and they’re out there doing their job.”

“You mean they’re getting fucked because of this.”

“They are paid to do their job, which is to follow orders.”

“What have you come here for, beyond torturing me with useless bullshit information?”

Taylor couldn’t take it any longer. He’d longed to have someone to talk to, but Dupont was the last person he had in mind. He wondered if he’d ever get out of his cell, of if he’d be left to the mercy of the enemy like Jones was.

“General Schulz requested that you be officially informed of your status.”

“What status? You’re leaving me here to rot when there is a war to fight!”

Dupont smiled, turned and walked away from the Major. It infuriated Taylor that he still knew nothing more about his comrades.
Dupont isn’t a real soldier. He’d
understand if he was,
thought Taylor. He suddenly became overwhelmed by the thought of being left to the enemy. The gaunt body of Jones, and the empty look in his eyes, were burnt into Taylor’s mind. He leapt to his feet and thrashed himself against the bars.

“Don’t leave me down here, General! You need me!” he yelled.

He could just see the back of the General and the guards as they continued to walk away, as if they had not even heard him. He smashed his hands against the cell bars in a desperate attempt get their attention, but it made little difference.

“Fuck!” he screamed.

Taylor knew that Dupont and Schulz were bastards, but he never imagined they would be so evil.
Schulz is going to ruin the Company.
God help them if any
harm comes to Chandra and the others.
He paced back to his bed and slumped down onto the hard and uncomfortable mattress. He felt utterly lost. Being locked up was bad enough, but knowing his friends were being led by such murderous bastards was too much to bear.
This can’t go on forever, I have to get out!

* * *

“Have you seen these co-ordinates, Captain?” asked Silva.

Friday looked up with a grim expression. He knew exactly the meaning of the Sergeant’s query.

“We have our orders, Sergeant.”

Silva took several quick steps to come up beside the Captain and out of earshot of the platoon who were checking and readying their equipment.

“A scouting party three clicks east for an engineering company to get to work, and two clicks back. We might as well walk towards their guns.”

“Dupont wants us to start gaining ground and moving our positions forward. They will work under the cover of the main lines while we are there to give a heads up in case of any trouble.”

“Sir, a few dozen of us with this old kit in no man’s land. Tell me that isn’t suicidal. Tell me this isn’t a death sentence to punish us.”

Friday knew that the Sergeant was right, but he also knew there was little to be done about it.

“What am I to do? We follow the chain of command.”

“Major Taylor didn’t,” snapped Silva.

“And look where it got him.”

Friday sighed. He hated his current position.

“Look, I am not saying what the Major did was wrong. I would have done the same in a heartbeat, but if we want to get him back, we need to pave the road for his return. Schulz is not beyond punishing all of us for a single deed.”

Silva spat on the ground beside him. He was utterly disgusted by their leaders.

“Why the fuck are we fighting for such assholes?”

Friday continued to check his weapon over and answer the question as the Sergeant became angrier. His heavy breathing over the Captain finally forced Friday to look up and answer.

“We aren’t fighting for them, Sergeant. We are fighting for ourselves, and for each other and every poor bastard on this world who can’t fight for themselves. The masses wouldn’t stand a chance. So we have to deal with obnoxious Generals. How is that any different to any other period in our history? There are some damn fine officers in this army and some damn bad ones.”

“Army, thought we were marines, Sir?”

“We are whatever we need to be. We live in the most uncertain times that anyone has ever known. We can keep fighting against each other, or we can move forward to take the fight to the invaders. The time will come when the brass will remember how much they need Taylor.”

Silva nodded as he took in what the Captain was saying. He had let his anger over the Major’s detainment cloud his judgement and deter him from the tasks at hand. Friday could see in Silva’s face that the Sergeant was beginning to come to his senses.

“You have been the best NCO I have had the pleasure of serving with, Sergeant. Your cool headedness and efficiency has kept us alive through the worst of it. Stay the course. Do exactly as you have been doing, and we’ll be fine, as will the Major.”

“Yes, Sir,” he replied.

Friday could see some relief in the Sergeant’s face. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and he had calmed substantially. Friday was just as frustrated at the Major’s imprisonment as any of them. They had been best of friends from just a few months after enlistment. A German soldier rushed up and stopped to speak with the Captain.

“Sir, the engineers are ready to move forward, ready when you are.”

Friday turned to Silva.

“Be sure the platoon is ready to leave, Sergeant. We go in five.”