Battle Earth IX (12 page)

"Think Heath will really push the button?"

"Bet your ass he will, Parker. Look at it, wouldn't you?"

"What are our chances of survival from a nuclear blast at three kilometres?" Jafar asked.

Taylor shrugged. "It's the minimum distance at which survival is a possibility."

"Oh, great!" Parker sighed.

With that, he put his foot down a little further on the accelerator. He could feel the steering was incredibly light, and they were more skimming over the surface than actually gripping it. The slightest of impacts could send them into a spin, but he hoped for the best, noticing all those around him were doing likewise. Parker looked back through a scope on her rifle at the enemy ships swarming over the city.

"We could never have held it, never should have been there to begin with."

"Easy to say now," Taylor added quietly.

He could see they had easily gone past the marker and were still storming west, but he did not lift off the pedal. He was counting seconds in his head now, trying to calculate how far from the marker they had got. But as he reached forty-four seconds, a quick flash lit up the skies, and he knew it could only be one thing.

Oh shit!

He looked back for just a moment and watched the fireball rise into the sky. He noticed how Parker was frozen solid and staring at it. He could see the shockwave advancing rapidly towards them and looked back at the road ahead, still hoping for the best. He saw Jafar duck and brace for impact. It was a few seconds later the impact struck, and their jeep immediately turned and went into a spin before hitting an embankment and flipping over. They rolled countless times until finally coming to a standstill on the roof of the roll cage.

No one moved for a moment. They were all stunned by the impact. None of them knew what to do, as they tried to work out if they were still alive. Taylor finally reached down for his harness strap and released it. He dropped onto the ground with no finesse at all. He went straight for Parker without any care for his surroundings. She was motionless, but as he climbed into the back of the vehicle, he could see her eyes were wide open and she was frozen in shock.

Taylor tapped on her mask a few times, and her eyes eventually turned to the sound of the impact and then to him, but they were still wide and her face was pale.

"We made it," he said.

She didn't respond. He unclipped her belt and supported her weight. She fell into his arms, and he lifted her out from the overturned jeep. Jafar began climbing out. Taylor laid Parker down beside the vehicle before turning to look back at the city. A vast mushroom cloud engulfed it. It was all he could make out. Before him lay dozens of vehicles which had been halted by the blast. Many were overturned, and several had collided with each other. A few bodies lay strewn around where occupants had been thrown from the vehicles, although most had been saved by their equipment and were being helped to their feet. Jafar stood next to Taylor, staring at the desolate scene.

"The gloves are off now," Taylor said, "Pride may have stopped Erdogan from ending us in the city, but now we've used a nuke against him, God knows what he'll throw at us."

"Not if he wants you."

Taylor thought about it for a moment.

The prospect of Erdogan hunting me down to end my life is terrifying, but is it saving the lives of hundreds of thousands, maybe millions? Is the alien’s pride buying us time?
Taylor wondered.

Jafar turned and walked to the vehicle. He placed his hands on the roll cage and shoved it over. The lightweight vehicle sprung over and landed hard on its wheels.

"Time we got out of here," said Taylor.

He could see troops scrambling to get back on the road, and numerous vehicles were already in motion. Many had soldiers piled high as they abandoned their wrecks. Two approached, and Taylor quickly recognised one as Rains and the other as Lang.

"Come on, jump in!"

As they piled in, another two soldiers he did not recognise clambered onto the side and squeezed into the only gaps they could find. Taylor pulled away but without the same sense of urgency they’d had previously.

They carried on at a comparatively casual pace, compared to the frantic rush they had experienced before. He could see the radiation warnings flashing in the display of his visor, but he had to keep faith in his suit to protect him from the radiation, for nothing else would.

They travelled all the way to Pittsburgh without another word between them. Not even the strangers who had jumped aboard muttered anything at all. They were shocked by what they had seen. They all understood it was the beginning of a new phase in humanity. Taylor knew that having to use a nuclear weapon to cover their retreat left them all feeling empty.

Taylor hadn’t witnessed Baltimore when it stood as a bastion in the first war, but he knew just how it would feel. He thought back to the time he’d first heard of the loss of Ramstein. He hadn’t seen that, but it meant to him what Baltimore must have to many of those who had defended it.

Despite the silence, the drive to Pittsburgh passed quickly as they fell into a daze. Taylor was on autopilot, and a hundred thoughts rolled around his head. By the time they reached the perimeter of friendly defences, he was feeling a weakness he had not experienced before. Running never felt good, and he could not help but feel they were moving from one defeat to another.

Is this the endgame?

“So, Pittsburgh? Wasn’t it destroyed by the war, too?”
 
Parker asked as they made their final approach.

“No,” Taylor quickly replied, “Sure there was some hard fighting here, but it never got like Baltimore. This is seen as the second line of defence for a reason.”

“Well let’s hope it works better than the first.”

Taylor couldn’t bring himself to comment, but he felt the same. The were at the back of the convoy when they reached the forward positions at Pittsburgh, and it was clear they were in a long line of forces which had passed through; those stationed there paid them little attention as they went through.

They could see the faces of the defenders there showed the same lack of faith in their chances as those who had fled Baltimore. Taylor was beginning to wonder if it was the beginning of the end.

And yet, we’re still alive. It’s something.

They soon reached an initial line of well-developed trench works and passed over one of the few bridges across it. He had no idea what they were heading for, but kept driving on and following those in front.

After a while, they started to descend into a small valley with high sides. It was lined with vehicles and was certainly some kind of sheltered gathering point. There was a mobile command truck at the far side, and it seemed like the obvious place to head. He squeezed the jeep down a narrow channel of troops and vehicles until they rocked up outside the truck.

Most of those they passed lay about in a stunned fashion. There was little fight left in them. As their vehicle came to a stop, a guard rushed forward.

"Move it on!" he yelled.

Taylor jumped out and approached the guard square on, with his rank visible on the front plate of his armour.

"Colonel, you cannot park that here, Sir," the man said, but showing a little more respect.

Taylor tried to carry on past, but the guard lowered his rifle into a broad barrier and tracked with the Colonel to block his path.

"Let him through!" a voice bellowed from behind the guard.

The man looked back and saw General Heath at the side door of the vehicle and quickly jumped back out of the way.

"Yes, Sir!" he shouted. He stood to attention and saluted.

Heath was still in his armour, although it was blood stained now, but it couldn't have been his own as he didn’t appear to be wounded.

"Glad to see you made it, Colonel. Plenty didn't."

"General White?"

Heath shook his head. "Wounded badly. I can't say whether he'll survive or not."

Heath turned and carried on inside the truck, expecting Taylor to follow him in. Taylor stepped inside and found three of Heath's staff sitting around a table. There was no display on it, and none of them spoke a word.

"Honest truth is pretty obvious for all to see," he said, "So, we're on the run. What are we gonna do about it?"

He was looking directly at Taylor and had obviously already asked the same of the others present, and not received a useful response.

"Gentlemen, we stand at the brink of destruction, and not one of you has a single word to say? Taylor, you've pulled more than a few tricks out of your hat in the last few years; now is the time for a repeat."

Taylor shook his head. "I wish I had an answer, but did you see what happened to us back in Baltimore? They've got air superiority, improved armour and shields, and seemingly infinite numbers of troops to throw at us."

"So what? We just lay down and die?"

"We need help, Sir. We can only punch so far above our weight. We need a few divisions brought in to help."

"I've been made all kinds of promises, but as you might expect, enemy forces are already spreading far in land and holding up any chance we might have of getting any aid."

"Has it really come to this?" Taylor asked wearily, "Have we fought all this time just to be beaten in a few days?"

Heath did not respond.

"I don't have any answers for you, Sir. All I can say is we will keep on fighting."

Taylor turned to leave.

"You know France is close to falling?"

Taylor stopped and looked back in horror.

"Already?"

"France has been at the core of the wars for the last few years, so it is no surprise the enemy wanted to occupy it quickly. They intend sending out a message to the World, and it will certainly work."

Taylor shook his head and walked out. The guard who had tried to stop him was still glaring at the jeep they had arrived in, but Jafar was leaning against it and glaring back. The guard dared not approach him. The two soldiers who had leapt aboard were gone without a single word. Parker, Rains, and Lang lay about in the back.

"What's the plan?" asked Rains.

"Find the rest of the Regiment for a start."

"Regiment?" Parker sneered, "Hardly."

"If we three were all that remained, we would still be the Inter-Allied Regiment, and always will be while one of us still draws breath. Now let's find our people."

He jumped in the vehicle and headed off without much of an idea where he was heading. He tried to activate the comms channel on his suit, but it was no longer working. "See if you can get someone, anyone," he said to Parker.

"Already tried. I can't pick up any signal."

"They're taking our infrastructure apart. Probably knocked out the repeaters and satellites," Rains joined in the conversation.

Taylor recognised a marine on the road ahead. He was trying to thumb a lift. It was Corporal Herrera. They stopped beside him.

"Glad to see you made it, Colonel," he said.

The Corporal was empty-handed, and a thick layer of dirt and dust was coated across his uniform.

"Know where the others are?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Then jump on and lead the way."

Herrera guided Taylor a few hundred metres to a small housing complex that had only been partly rebuilt and occupied from the previous war. The troops of Inter-Allied lay scattered about gardens, walls, and abandoned civilian vehicles. They stopped outside a show home; it was impeccably clean and furnished. Two guards were sitting casually outside but got up to attention on seeing him approach the front door.

"As you were," he replied and stepped on through.

He carried on into the house to find a near spotless family residence. The walls were recently painted, artwork and mirrors hung on every wall, and fake pictures of a happy family and their pets lay on a sideboard. The only sign of their presence was the dirty footprints of military boots that led from the door to every room in the house. He went into the kitchen where he could see a hive of activity.