Overlord (68 page)

“Get down!” Henri shouted, but knew it would be too late as the evil red eye had the two women and Mendenhall locked in. Farbeaux raised the Heckler & Koch to his shoulder and that was when he noticed the slide was locked open. The weapon was empty.

Before they knew what was happening they were all knocked off their feet as two Tornado fighter-bombers bearing the insignia of a blue circle with a red Kangaroo inside of the Royal Australian Air Force, and twenty Gazelle Attack helicopters with the blue circle and red kiwi of the New Zealand army screamed by. The earth erupted as four laser-guided smart bombs struck the metal giant, blowing it into a thousand pieces. That was followed up by fifty-caliber machine-gun fire from the Gazelles as they strafed what remained.

Sarah, Anya, and Farbeaux raised their heads long enough to feel the blast of jet engines and rotor wash as the sky quickly filled with aircraft of every sort. Henri wanted to shout but was quickly inundated with debris from the robot that lay shattered on the ground only a hundred feet from the two women and the unconscious Mendenhall.

The roar from the high clear sky above continued and they all chanced to look up just as a thousand parachutes broke into the clear through the low clouds that covered the battlefield. It was the white canopies of the 12th Australian and 3rd New Zealand Parachute Brigades. This time Henri did cheer and shout as he stood and shook his fist at the stunned Grays. Ground fire and Gazelle attack choppers were knocking them down as fast as they could charge down the ramps of the hovering saucers. And they too were being hit by a multitude of weaponry such as Sidewinder, Phoenix, and AMRAAM missiles. At that moment, the powerful assault from the sea was timed perfectly as forty Tomahawk Cruise missiles were directed at them from the faraway coast. Sixteen missile cruisers of both Australian and New Zealand navies had joined a force of cruisers from the U.S. Navy and five Royal Navy and Los Angeles–class subs. Explosions tore the battlefield apart as all three surviving saucers were soon a smoking ruin on the melting ice field.

The Anzacs and the U.S. and Royal navies had arrived in force.

20

An hour later Mendenhall was in the hands of New Zealand army medics. They rushed him inside Camp Alamo for immediate emergency surgery. Sarah watched him being taken away as Anya took a deep breath beside her.

“I understand it was you two who rallied the workers and remains of our army to our defense?”

Sarah and Anya, with Farbeaux sitting down in the snow getting tended to, looked up to see a heavyset man in an expensive winter coat with three others standing beside him. They all had weapons that looked as if they had been recently fired.

“Pardon me,” the man with the bow tie and glasses said as he gave his smoking M-16 assault rifle to the burly and smiling man next to him. “Very rude of me. I am Lord Durnsford, of Her Majesty’s MI6; I am the person responsible for this … this … mess.” He gestured around the battlefield as SAS men and the rescuing Anzacs were busy dispatching Grays one at a time—there would be no prisoners taken, not after Mumbai and Beijing. “These men are Admirals Kinkaid, of the U.S. Navy, and Huffington of the Royal Navy. And this is my good friend, Sir Darcy Bennett, in charge of the Overlord Project.”

Sarah and Anya said nothing. Their faces were bloodied and looked as if they had nothing to say to the four men.

“I believe you two were on the Russian vessel which brought the alien power plant through safely?”

Sarah nodded her head and then looked at the sky. She only wanted one question answered. She looked directly at Durnsford.

“General…” She paused as the question caught in her throat; she tried again with encouragement from Anya. “General Collins?” she finally managed.

The silence from the four men who could not look them in the eyes told her everything she needed to know.

“The
Garrison Lee,
any word?” Anya asked as her hope remained even as Sarah’s was dashed.

Lord Durnsford was just about to say there had been no word as of yet when the high sky lit up. The battle in deep orbit between the moon and the Earth had started. All heads turned up as small, dot-sized flashes were seen in the crisp blue sky. It was almost like an illusion they were all witnessing. The dark of space was being inundated with small sparkles of gunfire as high as the human eye could see. Many more faces turned upward, as the powerful weaponry was bright enough to cut through not only the darkness of space, but the atmospheric blue of the planet’s air.

The battle for Earth had commenced.

BETWEEN THE EARTH AND THE MOON (MOON GAP)

The HMS
Garrison Lee,
with her powerful ion-based engines, had covered the seventy thousand miles to what would be forever known as Moon Gap in Earth’s history books in a matter of ten minutes. She was now facing the strength of the Gray invasion armada. If the
Lee
failed to stop this assault it was only the opening vanguard, as the rest of the Gray civilization would soon follow the initial assault element and inundate Earth until it was totally subdued.

The full 1,865-foot length of the
Garrison Lee
was side-on to the first of the small assault ships as they exited the orbit of the far side of the moon. They came on at fantastic speed as the battleship before them flew on, seemingly oblivious to what was coming her way. The enormous sixteen-inch guns of all six massive turrets were trained directly at the Grays, but the large-bore weaponry must not have been seen as a major threat, because instead of slowing, the first one hundred attack saucers sped up to meet the Earth’s last defense.

*   *   *

Commodore Freemantle watched as the small dots illuminated against the glare of the distant sun came at them without hesitation. He smiled and winked at the nervous female yeoman at his side. She was rapidly recording everything she was to be witness to in the upcoming battle. It would be her job and her job alone to back up the ship’s log if and when it was jettisoned after the battle. She nervously and bravely smiled back, but the commodore could see her fear and it was no less than he was feeling.

“Weapons status?” he said calmly to his fire control officer on the next lowest tier.

“Mounts one through six are fully charged with particle shot.”

“Close-in defensive weaponry, please.” Freemantle studied the fast-approaching saucers just as the largest section of saucers—along with the processing ships and the power distribution vessel—made their first appearance as they rounded the moon.

“Five-inch rail guns are manned and ready, they have individual fire control at their command. Ten-thousand-watt laser mounts are operating on computer control, all systems report ready.” The officer swallowed his fear and stated as clearly as he could, “Power plant operating at 100 percent efficiency.”

“Very good. Defensive shield status?” Freemantle proudly watched his people calmly go about their duties—knowing they were in for the fight of their lives, they all had resigned themselves to a grisly, but honorable death.

“Water tanks at maximum, smoke generators at 100 percent.”

“Thank you. It seems we’re as prepared as we’ll ever be.”

Commodore Freemantle looked at every face that he could on his, the highest tier of the bridge, trying to burn the faces of each of these brave kids into his mind. All nationalities, Russian, British, American, Middle Eastern, Canadian, Australians, and Chinese, he was proud of each and every one of them and the nations that bore them. He thought for the briefest of moments that his swelling pride in the youth, the very best of the planet, was going to swell so that he couldn’t give his next command.

“Attack element, arm your weaponry,” he said, warning the two attack shuttles they were now on their own and would be the judge on when to launch. It was dangerous arming the newly redesigned AMRAAM missiles while still in the bay, but he wanted those young men to have every advantage he could give them, as he knew they would never return from their mission.

He cleared his throat as he watched the telescopically enhanced view screen. The first one hundred saucers were at thirty thousand kilometers and closing fast. Evidently the arrogant Grays thought they could plow right through their ship without even slowing. The smile on Freemantle’s face grew and his anger was a match for that smile.

“For all the wars fought; for all the injustice quelled; for the men, women, and children of our world, we fight for what we call home. Ladies and gentlemen, we shall engage the enemy at Moon Gap. All guns to fire on my command.”

*   *   *

The HMS
Garrison Lee,
with the giant, aluminum, one-hundred-foot blue-colored flag of the United Nations flying at her stern, flew proudly and defiantly as she sailed to the exact center of space between the Earth and the moon—a place that would be forever remembered as the coordinates where the battle for Earth would truly commence.

*   *   *

Ryan listened to the Marine colonel as she slowly explained the attitude jets to him. Jason knew the maneuvering thrusters well, as they were the same design as the LEM that he had set down, albeit roughly, on the moon’s surface at Shackleton Crater. The Marine shook her head when Ryan accidentally tripped the inertial navigation system when he toggled the thrusters.

“Now look, Commander, you can’t have heavy fingers on this thing or it will come back and bite you in the ass and everyone else back in the crew bay, you got that?”

“Boy, you turn the nicest color of pink when you’re angry,” was all he said as he reset the inertial navigation system.

“Knock it off. You’re speaking to a United States Marine Corps officer, jerk!”

Jason only smiled as he corrected the order of firing the attitude jets without a single mistake the second time. The colonel shook her head in frustration. The crowded cockpit was lit like a Christmas tree and Ryan was afraid of hitting something that would send him and the attack crew hurtling into deep space.

“Okay sweet cheeks, I’ll take it from here.” Jenks maneuvered inside the shuttle and waited while she exited the second seat. The master chief watched as the colonel slid close by, knocking him into the bulkhead. He raised his eyebrows several times as he got a real good feel of her heavily clothed chest. He looked at Ryan and then back at the floating form of the Marine.

“Gladly. You two dicks deserve each other,” she muttered.

“She acts like she has something against the navy.” Jenks tossed his helmet to Ryan, who caught the floating cover and then held it while Jenks strapped in. He reached out and hit the monitor that showed the assault team as they stood against the interior wall of the cargo bay. Once near the power resupply vessel the bay doors would be blown free and the Delta and SEAL assault element would be strung together in a long line being pulled by the first two men with their limited-range jet packs.

“Well, Officer Meat, you think you can control this thing for the five thousand meters it will take to get there?”

“No, I don’t, but what the hell.” Jason grinned at Jenks, who narrowed his eyes at the commander.

“Typical jock. Just do as I say when I say and we’ll at least crash into that big bastard.”

“Check, crash, that I can do.”

“From what Toad told me a few years back you tangled with these boys before, that right?”

“Yeah, I got my ass shot right out of the sky.” Ryan pulled his helmet over his head.

Again Jenks narrowed his eyes as he wasn’t used to anyone returning fire on him. He soon shook it off and then placed his helmet on as Ryan turned and looked at the gruff old man.

“If it makes you feel better, Master Chief, I shot one out of the sky before I ejected. Does that count for anything?”

“No, because you’ll probably be running into the son of a bitch’s brother, cousin, and daddy out there in the next fifteen minutes—if, that is, this big-ass battlewagon doesn’t get shot right out of the sky with us inside her belly.”

“Does this assault really have a chance in hell of working?” Jason asked, finally getting serious.

“Look, Commander Shit-for-Brains, I got this contract because I said I could build the system used to get us from point A to point B. I never really thought we would get this far. So, no, we’ll probably get our asses shot off when we open those doors.”

“Hey, I’m brimming with confidence now.”

*   *   *

Jack and Tram floated along hand over hand on the traversing line between sections with the two SAS guards as best they could as the announcement was made that every hand should man their battle stations. Collins gave a sideways glance over at Tram and the two men stopped, holding on to the line just inside the thick girder system of the main deck. The large windows showed the nothingness of space and that made Jack far angrier that he could no longer do anything to help his friends.

“Look, I guess you’re going to have to shoot me, but as an allied general I sincerely hope you won’t.” Collins allowed a far more mobile Tram to pull him down from his free-floating status until his feet met the deck and the Velcro took hold. He slowly removed his helmet, as did Tram.

The two SAS men inside their red-topped helmets looked at each another and then pulled themselves down to the deck and joined the men they were supposed to take to the evac stations near the extreme bow of the warship. Many other crewmen shot past on lines above their heads as everyone had a duty to perform.

“Look, you men want to be with your unit. If I’m not mistaken you’re supposed to be standing by in case the Grays start to board the
Lee,
am I correct?” Jack wiped a line of sweat from his forehead.

The two British commandos didn’t respond; they just looked at the American general inside his ill-fitting spacesuit. The two men had heard the scuttlebutt about what this man had done during the assault on Camp Alamo while they launched into space. He had given his entire command to give this ship a fighting chance. Finally the SAS sergeant slowly removed his helmet, as did the other. He faced Collins and then held out his gloved hand.