A Savage War Of Peace (Ark Royal Book 5) (23 page)

BOOK: A Savage War Of Peace (Ark Royal Book 5)
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“Aye, Captain,” Howard said.

 

“And then send a flash message to the Ambassador,” John added.  It was unlikely she hadn't already been notified, but it wouldn't be the first time something slipped through the cracks in the system.  “And send a duplicate to every other military formation in the system.”

 

“Aye, Captain,” Howard said.

 

John nodded, then rose and grabbed his uniform jacket.  There was nothing he could do, unless Boone called for fire support, but he was damned if he was staying in his quarters when the shit was hitting the fan.  Besides, it wasn't impossible that some other powers would have forces on alert, ready to intervene.  Some fast talking might be necessary.

 

Damn the Indians
, he thought. 
We need a centralised ground command and we needed it yesterday
.

 

***

“Mail call,” Percy carolled, as he stepped into the makeshift barracks.  “Get your mail here!”

 

His section sat up with varying degrees of eagerness.  It was a Royal Marine tradition that the senior officer distributed the mail when on detached service, if only to allow the officer a chance to gauge the morale of his men before they went back into action.  Personally, Percy rather wished they’d stolen the American tradition of serving breakfast to the men on the day before deployment instead, but it wasn't something he could change. 

 

He dug into the bag and removed a handful of physical letters and parcels.  There had been hundreds of electronic messages for them on
Warspite
, including a ‘Dear John’ letter that really should have been held back until the section returned to Earth, but there was nothing quite like receiving a real letter.  He held out the first letter, made a show of being unable to read the recipient’s name on the top, then passed it to its owner and handed out the others.

 

“Got two letters for you, Sergeant,” he said to Peerce.  “They both look important.”

 

“Dear Dan,” Peerce said, as he took the letters.  “Your account is now overdrawn.  Pay up or we will send Fred and George around to break your kneecaps.”

 

“I hope not,” Percy said.  He frowned; his crash-course in being an officer had included a sharp warning that he needed to set a good example to his men, including not getting into debt or purchasing something he didn't need.  He’d never really thought about it, but he knew it could be a problem.  “
Is
that likely?”

 

Peerce shrugged.  “One’s from my aunt,” he said, “and one from my brother-in-law.  Never liked the bastard.”

 

Percy allowed himself a moment of relief, then glanced at his letters.  One was clearly from Penny, probably dating back to before the moment she’d been assigned to the mission as an embedded reporter, the second was from Admiral Fitzwilliam and the third was definitely from Canella, judging from the perfume.  He opened it up and a small datachip dropped out, followed by a handwritten letter.  Percy put the chip in his pocket for later viewing - he had a feeling he’d need privacy to see it - and then opened the letter.  Canella chatted about nothing in particular, merely telling him that her boss had stopped harassing her after realising just who she was dating.  Percy made a mental note to have a few words with the asshole when he returned to Edinburgh, then considered heading to the private booth.  There was time, he was sure, to view the chip ...

 

His bleeper buzzed, urgently.

 

“Grab your gear,” he snapped, as half-read letters were hastily dropped into pockets or locked drawers.  An urgent alert meant they might have to deploy anywhere on Vesy, given that they were supposed to be the QRF.  Luckily, all they really needed to do was don their helmets and grab their rifles.  “Move it!”

 

His earpiece buzzed as he pulled his helmet over his head.  “Lieutenant, there’s a small party trapped in City Seven,” Colonel Boone said.  “We’re looking for a diplomatic solution now, but you may have to get them out.  You are authorised to use the copters; I say again, you are authorised to use the copters.”

 

Percy swore under his breath - ten men weren't much against an entire city - then double-timed it out of the barracks and over to the helipad.  The two helicopters were already swinging their rotors, ready to leave as soon as the marines were onboard.  Thankfully, they’d practiced deploying in a hurry; Peerce took four men to one helicopter, while Percy led the rest to the other.  There shouldn't be any real threat to the aircraft, he’d been assured, but ...

 

We might be about to find out the hard way that we’re wrong
, he thought, as a nasty thought struck him.  Penny had said she’d be heading to City Seven, hadn't she? 
What if they do have something that can shoot us down?  The Russians might have left something behind.

 

He pushed the thought to the back of his mind as the helicopter lurched into the air.  There was no choice.  If the diplomats failed, they couldn't let humans be killed.

 

Of course not
, he thought, crudely. 
It would set a very bad example
.

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

“I haven’t been able to contact anyone from City Seven,” Grace said, as Joelle hurried into the communications centre.  “They’re not answering our calls.”

 

Joelle swore.  Giving radio to the Vesy - or at least a handful of radio sets linked to the planetary communications net - had been a gamble.  The upside of being able to talk to the city’s leadership as quickly as possible was balanced by the grim awareness that other human powers would be able to radio to the Vesy themselves.  But the radios had clearly failed in their overall function, at least if they couldn't raise anyone in the city.  Maybe the aliens had suspected them of being rigged, in some unimaginable manner, to spy on them.

 

Which we considered before deciding it would come back to haunt us
, she thought.  In hindsight, that might have been a mistake.  It wasn't as if the Vesy had any way to locate a bug that happened to be far too small for anyone to see with the naked eye. 
We might have a better idea of what was going on if we spied on them
.

 

She shook her head.  “What is the current situation?”

 

“The team have made their way into an alien building and are trying to stay ahead of the mob,” Mortimer said.  He tapped the scene in front of him, showing the live feed from the orbiting recon satellites.  “The Royal Marines are inbound; ETA nineteen minutes, but they have orders to hold off unless a diplomatic solution cannot be worked out.”

 

Joelle bit her lip.  “It looks as though we cannot talk to anyone,” she said, grimly.  The display was showing an angry mob clustered around the building, some carrying out dead bodies.  They all seemed to be Vesy, so far.  “Can the Royal Marines get them out?”

 

“I’m not sure,” Mortimer admitted.  “The current plan seems to be to simply pick the team off the roof, then get back into the air.  But they may have something that can impede the helicopters as they approach.”

 

“Shit,” Joelle said.  They had an agreement ... which was, in the end, nothing more than ink on paper.  Besides, the Russians might have let some heavy weapons slip into alien hands before their base was overwhelmed.  “We can't hold off, can we?”

 

Mortimer never took his eyes off the display.  “No, Ambassador,” he said.  “The longer we delay, the greater the chance they will run out of ammunition and be overwhelmed.  They
may
be held as hostages ... or they may simply be killed on sight.”

 

Joelle groaned.  “What caused this?”

 

“Unknown,” Mortimer said.  “The crowd simply went mad.”

 

“We’ll figure it out later,” Joelle said.  It was a catch-22 situation.  If the British public had been shocked to hear about the live sacrifice, they’d be horrified to learn that British citizens had been torn apart by alien mobs ... or that British troops, in the hopes of escaping the mob, had killed dozens of aliens.  “Tell Colonel Boone that we have been unable to make contact with the local leadership” -
which might be lying low until the shit stops flying around
, she thought darkly - “and that he is to do whatever he feels necessary to get our people out of there.”

 

She sat down, knowing she might well have destroyed her career.  There would be detailed media reports whining about human and alien casualties, questions in parliament and threats of inquiries in Geneva.  The PM held a majority, but he wasn't invulnerable.  Throwing Joelle under the bus might seem the best solution to a short-term problem.  It was tempting to equivocate until the matter was taken out of her hands, yet she knew better.  The buck stopped with her.

 

Grace stared at her.  “There will be ... be people killed.”

 

“Yes,” Joelle said.  “I know.”

 

***

“You are cleared to intervene,” Colonel Boone said.  “Weapons free; I say again, weapons free.”

 

“Thank you, sir,” Percy said. 

 

He contemplated the tactical situation, checking the constant stream of updates from the orbital network.  There was no point in trying to land and fight their way through the city, not when it would have been needlessly costly.  The simplest solution was the one that had occurred to him as soon as he’d taken his first look; land on the roof, pick up the trapped humans and then beat a hasty retreat.  It held risk - the aliens might have something that could bring down the helicopters - but less so than trying to batter their way through the city.

 

“I have two platoons getting kitted out now with full combat armour,” Boone added.  “They’ll be on their way shortly.”

 

“Understood, sir,” Percy said.  The QRF hadn't been wearing more than light armour, if only because no one would have been able to endure heavy armour for long.  An oversight, clearly.  “Can they be held in reserve?”

 

There was a pause.  “I’ll order them to hold at Point Delta,” Boone said.  “But you may need them sooner.”

 

Percy nodded, wordlessly.  The Paras were tough - he ought to know; they’d spent the last month training with them, when they hadn't been on patrol - but they would take far too long to get ready to move.  Besides, having a couple of extra helicopters wouldn't make much difference.  As much as he hated to admit it, it was better to risk a handful of marines immediately than bring in a small army within the hour.

 

“Thank you, sir,” Percy said.  “We’re moving now.”

 

The connection broke.  Percy keyed a switch, then hastily outlined his plan.  There were no objections, merely a handful of suggestions.  Percy took note of them, updated the plan and finally muttered a series of orders to the pilots.  They were both experienced men, having flown missions for the Paras and SAS in the past.  They'd carry out the mission or die trying.

 

The Vesy don’t think in three dimensions
, he reminded himself.  It had taken
him
time, on Salisbury Plain, to learn to appreciate the danger posed by aircraft ... or drones so stealthy that it was impossible to see or hear them, before they dropped a missile on an unwary soldier’s head. 
They won't be expecting us to drop out of the sky
.

 

“Sergeant, cover us as we go in,” he ordered.  City Seven - the name translated to something along the lines of ‘Home of the Flowery Heart’ - was coming into view, a towering mass of stone buildings surrounded by fields and a solid wall.  “We are weapons free; I say again, we are weapons free.”

 

And that lets us shoot at any threats we see, without restraint
, he thought, grimly.  One way or another, they were about to go down in the history books. 
God help us
.

 

He gritted his teeth, then glanced at his men.  They looked quietly confident, like the professionals they were.

 

“Take us in,” he ordered.

 

***

“Get up the next flight of stairs,” Hamish ordered, as he carried Kun away from the previous stairwell.  “Hurry!”

 

Penny nodded, then ran up the stairs.  The aliens had put a lot of effort into the building, she was sure, but she couldn't figure out what it was
for
.  All, but one of the rooms had earthen floors ... which was understandable on the ground floor, yet perplexing on the upper levels.  It was almost as if the aliens had wanted to grow something inside, but there was hardly any light.  What came through the slatted windows was barely enough to satisfy mustard and cress.

 

Hamish followed her up, holding Kun effortlessly with one hand and carrying a small pistol in the other.  No threats materialised at the top, so he relaxed slightly and looked around, concerned.  Penny saw the worry on his face and understood; hell, she shared it.  The whole complex simply didn't make any sense.

 

Or maybe we’re just missing the key to unlock the mystery
, she thought, as she sagged against the stone wall.  If the Vesy had been human, she would have unhesitatingly said that the carvings were intended to be erotic.  Maybe they
were
and she was looking at the alien version of the
Kama Sutra
.  Or ... she shook her head, wishing that Professor Nordstrom had accompanied them. 
He
might have understood what they were seeing.

 

The remainder of the Paras rushed up the stairs, one of them unhooking a grenade from his belt and tossing it down towards the aliens.  There was another explosion, oddly muffled, followed by howls and screams.  Penny gritted her teeth, unwilling to look down and see what the blast had done to the aliens.  Really, it was strange just how hesitant the aliens were about simply running up the stairs.  Maybe their mobs were more rational than their human counterparts, or maybe there was something about the building that made them reluctant to charge in and to hell with however many were killed.  She looked around again, feeling an unwelcome suspicion blossoming through her mind.  The earthen floors looked patted down, but there were places where she could imagine someone had dug ...

 

She glanced at the Paras, holding position near the stairwell, then knelt down and started to dig into the ground.  Hamish gave her an odd look, but said nothing as she plunged her fingers into the earth.  She hadn't realised just how
deep
the earth was, even though they’d run up the stairs; she mentally kicked herself, then kept digging.  The earth was changing constituency with remarkable speed ...

 

And then she touched something that felt hard and yet slimy.

 

Hastily, she pulled back the dirt, feeling her eyes go wide with horror as she realised what she was seeing.  It was an egg, only far - far - larger than any of the eggs she’d eaten as a child; indeed, it was roughly the size of a newborn child.  She touched it gingerly and realised that, although the shell was really quite hard, it was trembling slightly, like the beating of a tiny heart.

 

“This is a birthing centre,” she said, in awe.  She’d known the aliens were egg-layers, but she’d never considered the implications.  “This is where they bring their eggs to hatch.”

 

“Shit,” Hamish said.

 

It took Penny a moment to understand the implications.  God alone knew how the aliens regarded children - the Tadpoles might not have cared if humans had fished their young out of the water, then eaten them with chips and mushy peas - but
humans
wouldn't have warm feelings towards
anyone
who decided to turn a nursery into a battlefield.  The aliens had held back because they’d been scared of harming the eggs, just as humans might hesitate if children were under threat.  Quickly, she returned the egg to the soil and covered it up, then looked at the ground.  There could be hundreds of eggs, buried just below the soil.

 

“We just got word from the head sheds,” another Para said.  “We have to get up to the roof.”

 

“Understood,” Hamish said.  He glowered at Kun’s stunned head, then nodded once to Penny.  “Follow me up to the top.”

 

Penny nodded and did as she was told.  Behind her, she heard several gunshots as the aliens started pushing back up the stairs.  Now they knew what they knew, it was clear the aliens were
definitely
holding back.  She fought down the urge to run faster as they reached another floor, then another.  Their walls, too, were dotted in the same elaborate carvings.  No matter how many times she looked at them, she couldn't escape the impression that they were designed to instruct Vesy in how to have sex.

 

But sex cannot be a learned behaviour
, she thought, puzzling over the question to keep from fretting over the very near future. 
How would we have survived if we had to be taught how to have sex
?

 

The warm air struck her as soon as she reached the rooftop, warm and moist and promising a thunderstorm.  Down below, she could hear chanting as more and more aliens joined the mob outside the building, while others were climbing up other buildings, carrying bows and spears as they moved.  She had barely a moment to realise that one of the aliens was actually taking
aim
at her before a spear flashed past her and fell over the other side of the building. 

 

“Keep your head down,” Hamish snapped.  Kun moaned, uncomfortably.  “Keep your head down and wait.”

 

Penny nodded, feeling her body start to shake.  She'd held herself together when they’d been running up the stairs, but now?  They were trapped, unable to hold out forever, and when they were captured ... she grasped the pistol and held it, tightly.  Perhaps Hamish was right, after all, and she should save one final round for herself ...

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