Battle Earth VIII (Book 8) (12 page)

"I guess the US really doesn't want involvement in this war?"

"I don't think anybody wants to be involved in this war, Charlie. They just haven't realised yet that they have no choice but to be," replied Taylor.

"Colonel Taylor!" came a call.

His grip reached for his sidearm instinctively. He looked up. An officer stood before him, silhouetted against the light coming through a ceiling light. He covered his eyes from the glare and recognised Becker, the German tank commander. Taylor leapt to his feet. He could see the German flag Becker had always worn with pride was gone, replaced with a black double-headed eagle encased in a vivid yellow shield. He wasn't at all familiar with the symbol.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I might ask you the same question."

"No, but I mean really, why are you here? Your country is at war with France."

"No, the German government is at war with France and certain idiotic creatures with it. I still fight for Germany in the only way I can. Took me a little while to convince the EA I was genuine, but here I am."

Taylor was still looking at the symbol on Becker's sleeve, and the Captain felt he needed to explain.

"Holy Roman Empire," he stated. "It's how I can still fight as a German, without being shot for being one."

Taylor laughed. "Honestly, I'm amazed to see you are even still alive."

"Likewise."

Becker's attention suddenly turned, and his eyes looked past the Colonel to the end of the room.

"Looks like you are creating quite a stir."

Taylor looked confused. He turned to find out what the Captain meant and was met by his face projected on the massive screen.

"No way," he whispered.

"Turn it up!" Jones shouted out.

A moment later, he was listening to his own voice as recorded earlier that day on one of the most watched news stations in the World. He couldn't believe his eyes.

"It's the Colonel!" one of the unit shouted. "Get a look at the Colonel!" another one called out. Cheering rang out and swallowed up the sound from his interview, but it was okay, he didn't need to hear it.

"What have you got yourself into, Colonel?" asked Becker.

"Long story, but in essence, we need more people like you. Volunteers to fight for what needs to be fought for."

Silva walked over to join them with a huge grin across his face. "Man, White is gonna be pissed."

"Well, I can't keep everyone happy."

Most of the Regiment was in the huge room and beginning to chant his name with excitement. He knew he had to get up and talk to them. He climbed up onto a nearby table and lifted his hands. Silence quickly followed.

"Every man and woman among you joined me in this war because you knew it was the right thing to do. Our government, our Generals, they still sit on the fence while we fight and die. Today, I am giving every American and every other nation’s citizens a chance to decide for themselves!"

Becker leaned over to Jones.

"How does he do it?"

"What?"

"Survive, after pissing off so many people, and remain so fiercely popular?"

Jones shook his head for he didn't rightly know. "It is quite amazing."

The video interview replayed again on the screen until finally it was cut short and went back to a news desk. The crowd booed but were silenced by Silva's booming voice hollering, "Quiet!"

They were all fixated on the screen now and watched as the news anchor was clearly receiving notes through a hidden earpiece before relaying them on air. The anchor was a well-dressed blonde in her late thirties and always looked one hundred percent confident in her presentation, except for this time. She looked uneasy with what she was hearing and hesitated for a moment before speaking with a slightly shaken voice.

"We have had a request from the White House for an immediate broadcast from their location...Going now live to the White House..."

The familiar White House conference room set appeared before them, but it was empty. A few moments later a man stepped up to the podium, but nobody recognised him. He was in his early thirties and Hispanic. It was clear he was prepped for the interview but was doing his best to appear confident.

"Thank you, Ladies and Gentlemen, for appearing on such short notice. I am Rodrigo Vidal, and I am advisor to the President. I am here on the President's behalf to ask for calm and consideration at this time. I am sure all of you have by now seen the broadcast put out a few hours ago by what appears to be Mitch Taylor. Let me remind you that Colonel Taylor is currently AWOL from the Marine Corps, and is acting of his own accord. We have no authentication of the videos source, nor any evidence that any material therein is accurate."

He took in a deep breath, and not one of the members of the press interrupted him as they waited with baited breath.

"The United States has seen no evidence of cloned humans or Krys involvement in the war currently being fought in Europe and its surrounding area. We have no choice but to declare this video a hoax. I repeat, the President has asked for calm consideration during this troubling time in the World. Thank you. That will be all."

Reporters jumped to get his attention, but he carried on as quickly as he could.

"Fucking asshole," said Silva. "A hoax? Get the President here, and we'll show him a fucking hoax."

"He's just towing the line. That video was never targeted at the government. It was for everyone else."

The troops were heckling the screen as it returned to the news anchor.

Becker was stunned. "You...you really just did that? That really was you who put that out there?"

Taylor nodded.

"Think it'll work?" asked Jones.

"We can only hope."

"If this evidence exists, why not get it out to the World?" asked Becker. "Why not make everyone see it to be true? Hell, even take it to the UEN. They can't understand the shit they've gotten themselves into."

"It's what we've been trying to do, and yes we tried that as well. Nearly cost us our lives. No, there is no negotiation to be had with the UEN anymore. Maybe we can get a few individuals like you to cross over, but this war will only end when we win it."

"So what now?" asked Silva.

"Wait and see. Worst case, is nothing at all."

 
"Colonel Taylor!" a voice boomed.

He turned to see General Dupont standing before him.

Oh, shit!

"When did getting the evidence out to the World include open recruiting of citizens from neutral countries?"

Taylor shrugged his shoulders and stayed calm.

"You just did what none of my advisors would dare do, and what a job you did. Governments are panicking. Discussion of clones and alien involvement is spreading like wildfire. I didn't believe it ever could have worked."

"Just gotta have a little faith, Sir."

"We all knew you could fight, but who could ever have known you were capable of anything like diplomacy."

"I wouldn't call it that," he replied.

"Whatever you want to call it, you just stirred up the hornets' nest, Taylor."

"That's what I do."

Dupont walked off confidently, shaking his head in astonishment.

"When in the high hell did you get him on side?" asked Becker.

"It's a long story."

Parker appeared out of nowhere, a puzzled expression on her face.

"Never thought you had it in you," she said.

"I'm full of surprises."

Taylor awoke to a hammering on his door, causing him to leap from his bed and grab his sidearm. He rushed to the door wearing nothing but his underwear and saw Eli readying her rifle.

"Who is it?" he shouted.

"Silva!"

Taylor ripped open the door and thrust his pistol out in the face of the Sergeant Major.

"Whoa, whoa, it really is me," he complained.

Taylor looked around suspiciously outside the door before lowering his pistol.

"What is it?"

"It worked!" he said excitedly.

"What d'ya mean?"

"A Marine regiment has departed the United States to pledge allegiance to you personally, and more are sure to follow. The government hasn't been able to stop them!"

Taylor rubbed his eyes, trying to work out if he was dreaming.

"All right, give me a minute. I'll be with you shortly."

He shut the door and reached for his clothes.

"If the President wasn't pissed enough with you before, he certainly will be now," said Parker.

"So what? My job isn't to make friends and kiss ass. It's to win this war through whatever means necessary."

"Job? Are you being paid?"

He shook his head.

"Okay, it's my duty, my calling, whatever you want to call it. Hardly a time to worry about money."

"No, not when your head can get removed from your shoulders at any moment from even those close to you."

"What are you saying?"

"You need to be careful, Mitch. You may be making a lot of friends right now, but probably just as many enemies."

"Well then, you'll have to have my back, won't you?"

"Always."

He pulled on his boots and was out the door, leaving her still getting dressed.

"Way to go, Colonel!"

It was a passing soldier he'd never seen before in his life. He nodded in acknowledgement and continued on when he caught sight of a few objects in the sky. They appeared to be drones. He jumped to the nearest wall for cover and then peered around for a better look. They were drones all right, but they appeared to carry no weapons and were hovering over a drill square a hundred metres away. Out of curiosity, he made his way towards them, despite being naturally suspicious.

He took a bend and found Reiter and a few of his team standing around a pile of equipment. Acosta stood watching them. The Private noticed his arrival and beckoned for him to come forward.

"They've done it, built my idea."

Taylor looked down to see a typical Reitech rifle on a table. It appeared to be nothing out of the ordinary.

"Does it work?"

"Initial tests have been positive. We do not have any operational combat drones, so we use video surveillance models instead. The results should be near identical. Would you like to do the honours, Colonel? " Reiter answered.

"What do I do?"

"That rifle you see there is exactly as it would appear. Initially, we developed a concept weapon from the revolving launchers used in the first war, but we are well aware the carrying of additional weaponry is not ideal simply to deal with a particular target. So we redesigned the projectile so that it could be used in the current Reitech rifle. This reduces the spread of the weapon slightly, due to the calibre of the weapon, but I think you will find the results quite pleasing."

Reiter flipped open a box lying on the table. It was full of ammunition and the rounds like nothing he had seen before. The same length and diameter he was used to, but with dozens of small steel rods around the diameter of the head of the round, and initially appeared to be hollow in the centre. He pushed his finger into the hollow area, and it was actually filled with a super fine grade steel mesh.

"The metal tips disperse the round as the projectile gains velocity," said Reiter. "The mesh is exceptionally strong for its size and weight, in what can only be described as being like a spider’s web. Hence the name we have been calling them, web ammunition, or web rounds if you like."

Taylor looked at the ammunition in amazement and then to Acosta.

"Your idea really did work."

"See for yourself, Colonel," he replied.

Taylor drew back the breech on the rifle and loaded a single round manually without need of a magazine. He turned and looked up at the drones that were spaced out five metres apart. He was dubious it could work, but he had faith in Reiter. He took aim and squeezed the trigger. It sounded like a half-powered round due to the low velocity. He watched in amazement as the web opened up, engulfed the first drone, and continued on to catch one behind it and then plummet to the ground.

"Well, I'll be damned."

He put the rifle down and carried on over to see the results. The two drones were completely wrapped in the web and lifeless. One was smashed and in multiple pieces.

"So this will destroy them outright?"

"It would depend on the strength of the drone in question and the height at which it is struck. The web rounds mean the drone cannot use any stabilisation to recover itself and does land hard. With any luck, the impact will be enough to destroy the subject. The worst case is that it remains incapacitated on the ground, and therefore an easy target for you to finish off."

"It's amazing. Amazing in its simplicity."

"I can take credit for the application of the idea, but not the concept itself. That belongs to Private Acosta here, who is far smarter than it would first appear."

"We need these rounds ASAP. How quickly can you get them into production?"

"If you are happy with them as is, I can get maybe a small test batch done by tomorrow, maybe one or two hundred. Getting them into mass production may take a few weeks at least."

"Then do it. These web rounds will save a lot of lives. Make as many as you can, and get them to my Regiment immediately."

Reiter nodded in agreement and began packing away the gear to go about his work. Just as Taylor turned back to Acosta to congratulate him, his comms channel opened. Dupont was on the line.

"Colonel, report to me immediately,"

This doesn't sound good
.

When Taylor got to the General's war room, he found it packed with other officers standing around a projection of Europe and all known positions of forces, both friendly and enemy.

"Colonel, your little video stunt has caused quite a stir. And while I hear rumours of whole regiments heading our way to join us, it has stirred up trouble on the frontline. Your message to the World has brought your United States ever closer to joining this war, and that has clearly led the UEN to respond. They have launched a new offensive, a new push, all the way from east of here down to the Mediterranean. It is clear they intend to end this while other nations still contemplate which side of the fence to leap."

"How bad is it?"

"Bad. They have broken through our lines at three points so far, and I don't have to tell you how far our forces are stretched. The war is being fought in every country that’s joined the Alliance. We are losing ground at every turn. I know you are recently returned from one mission, but I am afraid I have to send you on another."

"That's what I'm here for."

"Good. I know you have gained some strength recently, and you'll need it. I am sending you to Arras in the north. It is vital our flanks are defended."

Taylor studied the map.

"Arras, that's what, a hundred and fifty klicks from here?" he asked, sounding concerned.

Dupont sighed as he nodded.

"They are almost at the city."

Taylor shook his head.

"What is it, Colonel?"

"Why France? It started here, and it seems no matter where we go and what we do, I always end up back here."

"Yes, I am sorry to say my fair country has become the epicentre of the struggle for the World’s freedom."

"When do you want us to leave?"

"Now, time is everything."

Taylor knew what he had to do. He casually saluted, walked out the room, and tapped his comms unit. "Inter-Allied, form up and prepare to move out."

By the time he had gathered his own equipment and got back to the hangar that had become their home, the entire Regiment was formed up with Jones at their forefront. The Rangers’ ship was set in the background, and a line of copters in front. Taylor passed Rains. He was airbrushing an American flag onto the side of a well-used copter in French markings.

"See, no matter what, you always find another girl."

"Yeah, thanks," he replied sarcastically.

Taylor stopped before the troops and could see he now commanded over three hundred.

Enough to raise all kinds of hell,
he thought.

"Listen up! The UEN is making advances west and covering some serious ground. I have heard, just as all you have, that elements within the US military are heading this way to help us out. That may be true. It may be bullshit. All we know for certain is that to the east the enemy is gaining ground, and General Dupont is deploying us to the northeast to stop them. We are but a few hundred in a war of millions, but let us never forget we have always punched above our weight!"

A cheer rang out.

"In the past, we have fought against Mechs; a faceless and fearsome enemy which none of you would hesitate to put down. Now we fight both Mechs and humans. Some of those humans may be Krys as well, but none of that matters. All you need to know is they are the enemy, and it your job to kill the sons of bitches before they kill you. We've got to win this war, for a far greater one is on the way. Let's do this right. Coordinates and map data have been sent to flight crews, officers, and NCOs. Load up, and good luck to you all!"

Taylor joined Jones who was heading for Rains’ copter.

"You know that idea Acosta had for ammunition to take down the aerial drones I told you about?"

"Yes."

"Well, amazingly they work."

"We taking them with us?"

He shook his head.

"Had we been able to wait a day, maybe, but time is not on our side."

"Then I guess we just hope not to meet them."

As he said it, Taylor already knew they would, but fretting over it did no one any good now. Five minutes later, they were lifting off and heading for their new destination. It would be a short journey. After twenty minutes, they felt the copter rock and Rains’ voice.

"Incoming fire!"

"I thought they hadn't reached the city yet?" asked Jones.

"That's what I was told!" replied Taylor.

He rushed forward to the cockpit. Missiles were zipping in and out of the craft as they were carried away and ignited by the defence systems of the Rangers’ advanced vessel.

"That's a hell of thing!"

"But it can't last, Eddie."

He opened a channel.

"We can't stick this out. Everyone out now, jump, jump, jump!"

Jones ripped open the door and was out before he could even pass on new orders to Rains.

"Put down somewhere safe a few klicks west and look after yourselves!"

Taylor rushed to the door as the last two aboard jumped, and he followed suit. As he hit the open air, he saw a terrifying sight. A swarm of drones were coming for them.

"Oh, shit, no!"

He lifted his shield as he continued to descend, raising his rifle using the targeter on his helmet. A shot bounced from the shield as he did so, and he returned fire with a burst at the nearest target. The last shot he fired clipped the edge of one of the rotors and sent the drone barrelling out of control. He watched it smashed over a shield of one of the troops below him.

As he fired at another target, the swarm passed through them, and he knew they were in trouble. There was nothing the copters or larger vessels could do. As one passed close to Taylor, he swung his rifle out and smashed it hard so that it burst into a dozen pieces. He felt an impact on the backplate of his armour. One of the drones strafed him. Another shot hit one of the thrusters on his legs, and he started to plummet to the ground.