Battle Earth VI (23 page)

“They should have gotten these people out hours ago,” Jones whispered.

“Yep, and there’s only so much we can do for them. We have a duty to our fellow marines, and I intend to honour it.”

The civilians were climbing out of the trenches as the enemy reached the effective distance of their rifles. Taylor didn’t have to give the order to fire. They all knew what to do, and the sharpshooters among them carefully took the first few shots. Thirty seconds later, the Battalion opened up with everything it had. The thousands of Mechs bearing down on their position were a frightening sight even to the combat hardened veterans.

The enemy fell one rank after the other, but a never-ending stream poured over the bodies. Taylor could see their numbers were expanding to the flanks. The civilians had gotten just five minutes lead-time when the enemy reached the onehundred metre mark. Explosions erupted all along the line, but they suffered few casualties due to their deep trenches. The enemy artillery fire intensified in the last three minutes.

Despite the continuous fire they put down, they seemed to have little effect on the enemy advance, and the increasing amount of fire was forcing them to keep their heads down.

“That’s enough!”

“It’s only been eight minutes!” replied Jones.

“Fuck it, they brought this on themselves by being such idiots.” He lifted his intercom as an explosion sent dirt and stones smashing into his helmet, forcing the two officers to duck down.

“Fall back! Fall back now!”

They clambered out of the trenches under a hail of gunfire. Jones covered Taylor’s back with his shield, saving him from one of the pulses before he’d got a metre from the trench. Mitch still hadn’t found a replacement since his was destroyed the day before, a fact he was all too aware off as the shards of the pulse burst over Jones’ shield and flew past his head.

He turned back briefly to check if his unit were following him. There was nothing left to say or do but run. The speed their suits allowed them was more welcome than ever as explosions erupted all around. At a sprinting pace, they reached the nearest buildings in less than a minute and passed on from line of sight with the enemy.

Taylor lifted his Mappad, checking the location the copters had been requested for, but he didn’t slow his pace any.

Please, please be there,
he thought.

They took a bend up ahead where it opened up into a soccer field. Jones had chosen the location well. The birds were waiting for them.

“hallefuckinglujah!” yelled Rains.

Taylor turned to see the pilot was at the front, and he was wearing one of the Reitech suits. He had no idea where he had pillaged it from, but he didn’t care. Whoever he got it from no longer needed it. He came to a halt and ushered his people through, to be certain all the survivors were there. They had taken minor casualties, considering the mass of forces that had assaulted them.

The last few ran past him, and he gladly took to his feet, rushing for Jones who was waiting at the door to one of the copters for him. He breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped up into the craft.

“All of that for what, saving some idiots who wouldn’t leave when they should have?”

“They’re people’s homes, Charlie. Would you be so eager to leave yours?”

“If I knew this was coming, hell yes!”

Taylor pulled the door shut behind him and was glad the onslaught was over.

“Let’s get these birds in the air!”

From the second they put down at the defensive line at Jerusalem, Taylor knew it was like nothing he had seen before. Multiple nations of often-conflicting religions had gathered to defend the city in unprecedented numbers. Deep trenches had been dug for hundreds of kilometres. Behind them lay thick concrete walls with gun emplacements every twenty metres and tanks having to sit almost track to track in some places.

He stepped off the copter to a wholly different world to anything he had experienced in the
second
war for Earth. Jones stopped and took a deep breath and exhaled.

“Ahh, that’s gotta make you feel good.”

“What?” Taylor asked.

“The smell of oil, grease, fresh dirt, liquid concrete, and sweat. All the things that we need.”

“Maybe for you. A good night’s sleep and the company of a fine woman is more what I had in mind,” Taylor joked.

Jones smiled, for he knew Taylor revelled in it as much as he did.

“If we can’t hold this, we can’t hold shit.”

“Eloquently put,” Jones replied.

“About as eloquent as your love of grease and sweat, you limey bastard,” he laughed.

It was good to be back among allies and the safety of strong defences. The rapport had completely changed in the initial moments that the stress had been taken off them.

“They chose the wrong city to go for,” added Jones. “Too many people will fight to the bitter end for this one.”

“And maybe that is why they chose it. Maybe capturing it would have significant impact on the belief which humanity has, that it can win.”

“I don’t doubt it would, but they can’t take it anyhow.”

“Not now we’re here.”

"Mmm," mumbled Jones as he looked across the endless lines of allied troops and armour. It was a comforting setting, which would have been a welcome thing through much of their experiences.

He knelt down to the brew of tea he had going on a stove he had managed to acquire quickly upon their arrival. Taylor leant against the edge of the rampart wall to look at the dust cloud to the south. It was the massive enemy army approaching.

"Want one?" asked Jones.

Taylor pulled out of his empty canteen and separated the base, passing it to his friend. They both knew it was the last moment of peace they would see for some time.

"That looks like ours," said Taylor.

Jones left his brew and stood up to see what he meant. Taylor lifted his binoculars.

"Son of a bitch. It's Phillips. He made it."

The Commander had an arm over a soldier each side of him, and a leg wound clearly having been patched up.

"Should we go to him?"

"No, that wound has earned him a pass out of this fight. There'll be time enough to reunite if we make it through."

They watched as the Commander was hauled through one of the main gates a few hundred metres east of their position. Jones was quick to get back to his brew and handed Taylor his canteen.

"How many soldiers do you believe we have here, Mitch?"

"I can tell you how many marines we have here, that's for sure."

"You know what I mean."

"Who knows? Must be tens of thousands spread over hundred of kilometres. They say the line extends from Tel Aviv to the Dead Sea. Could even be hundreds of thousands with those still arriving."

"Colonel Taylor!"

He turned to see Harney approaching along the wall.

"Good to see your boys made it."

"Very nearly didn't. That was a total fuck up at Hebron."

"Maybe, but every action further south has bought us time to get as much here as humanly possible."

He looked past Taylor's shoulder to address Jafar. He had been sitting quietly on the edge of the wall for some time.

"Do you think it will be enough, Sergeant?"

"If everyone here stands his ground, yes."

"That's what I like, a solid answer. We're positioned east of here, past the next tower. I just saw Commander Phillips go through the gates. Good to see him alive, but he'll be sitting this one out."

"Who is in charge here?" asked Taylor.

"Honestly, nobody knows. There are high-ranking officers from six or seven armies amongst us. Communications aren't centrally managed, so right now, it seems each force is in charge of their own lump of turf. I'll have my hands full with the 5
^th
. I suggest you handle your own shit as well."

He nodded in agreement.

Great, nobody breathing down our neck and trying to get us killed.

The Colonel turned to look out south towards Hebron. They could now just make out the silhouettes of the enemy heavy tanks across the barren landscape. They were surrounded by swarms of what were clearly Mechs but still several kilometres out.

"I'll leave you to it, Taylor, good luck."

"And to you, Colonel," he replied.

Harney strode off along the line to return to his regiment.

"A whole regiment? As a Colonel, you should have the same," said Jones.

"Yeah, but you know how it is. It's easy to promote individual officers, not so easy to recruit, train, and sustain a full regiment. Anyway, I can't say I'd be interested. This Battalion is a handful as it is. I liked commanding a company. It was tight and flexible. It worked."

"And this still works now!"

It was a reminder to both of them that the real missing link was Chandra.

"Well it sure is nice to have numbers on our side, anyway," added Jones to lighten the tone.

A loud boom rang out as one of the heavy gun emplacements fired the first shot.

"It's begun, Charlie."

He leaned in against the wall with his canteen of tea still steaming. He never understood how a hot drink could be so soothing even in a hot climate, but he knew now why Jones was always so keen to brew up. The shell from the gun landed just shy of the enemy vehicle it targeted, but another soared out from the gun within a few seconds of the shot landing.

It was almost deafening. The turret looked more like it had come off a warship than anything else. It was far larger than anything their tanks used.

"I guess they had the defence of this city in mind for a while!" shouted Jones.

"They must have fought here in the first war. Question is, did the area hold because they built these defences, or did they build them when they recovered the ground?"

Neither of them knew for sure what had happened through much of the Middle East in the first war. It was such a far away land for them at the time, it seemed of little concern. For the next hour, they watched the enemy attempt to advance across the open terrain. Their tanks slugged it out with the gun emplacements and tank regiments of several countries who had sent aid. There was little for those on the walls to do but hunker down and avoid the fire until they closed the distance.

After a few minutes of watching the battle, Taylor and Jones sat down against the barricades and propped their rifles up beside them, resting their weary legs. It was a strange experience for them, to be able to rest while the battle raged all around them. So often they had been the frontline in battles, and now they were several lines back from it. They didn't envy those down in the trenches before them. The thick concrete and steel walls that were five metres high provided a solid defence against all but the heaviest weapons.

The hour passed before the infantry below began to engage the enemy with anti-tank weapons and small arms soon after. They knew it meant the aliens were just a hundred or so metres out of their range. Taylor finally got to his feet, and it was a welcome break after sitting on hard concrete for so long. He looked to the east and west. It was much the same sight as was in front of them. Lines of burning tanks were being used as cover from the enemy advance, and thick smoke and dust made the battle seem so much smaller than he knew it to be.

"They're slowing down," said Jones.

"Yeah, can you blame them? Look at the beating they're taking."

"You think this means we have stopped them?"

Taylor looked to Jafar.

"They cannot keep this up for much longer. It would be foolish."

"No, coming back to Earth was foolish. It was the biggest mistake they ever made," Taylor replied.

"It's not over yet," added Charlie.

"2nd Inter-Allied, fire in your own time once in range," Taylor ordered across their comms.

It was clear to him that if the enemy did reach their range, there wouldn't be much fight left in them. Despite that, they continued to drive forward. But he could see the back of their ranks now. No longer were they an endless column of armour and soldiers. They were spreading thin across the plain.