Battle for the Earth (19 page)

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Authors: John P. Gledhill

BOOK: Battle for the Earth
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**

 

 

 

36

 

 

Heathrow was being wound up and was alive with activity. The
Iron Duke
was slowly filling up with ESG troopers, Androids, all kinds of assault vessels, both large and small, medium-sized and small troop transports -anything at Heathrow that was worth taking was on its way to Mars.

 

Jumouk had climbed up to the bridge of the
Iron Duke,
leaving Fiona and Finney to oversee the winding-up operation on the ground. This was more up Fiona’s street than Finney cared to admit.

 

Fiona was a wiz at logistics, and an expert in organisation, and thanks directly to her efforts everything was going extremely well. Finney, on the other hand, would have been the first to admit that loading boxes definitely wasn’t his thing. Boredom had soon set in. This was giving him far too much time to think - mainly about travelling through space and landing on other planets. As time went on, thinking about it didn’t make it any better; if anything it made it worse.

 

He was now at the stage of trying to think up plausible excuses for him to stay on Earth. After all, he was a battalion commander in the ESG land forces. Within his own mind he stressed the last part of the title,
land forces,
not sea forces not air forces and certainly not space forces. No, he was in the right, even his title said so.

 

All this of course had nothing to do with the fact that he was petrified of flying.

 

To pass the time away while he avoided anything to do with the job Fiona had taken on, and, locked in his own thoughts, Finney had been idly scrolling through radio wave bands on the communication equipment. Owing to radio silence restrictions the chances of coming across anything would be slim to non-existent - it was just really an exercise in wasting time.

 

All of a sudden the air waves sparked into life, albeit faintly. Voices could be heard.

 

The radio chatter was sporadic and, although it sounded as it came from a military source, it didn’t sound like any regiment Finney had ever heard of. He was mesmerised. He didn’t have a clue how long he had been listening when Fiona rudely interrupted him.

 

‘Finney, are you going to help at all?’

 

Finney simply waved his hand at her to be quiet. She obeyed and sat down next to him, Finney looked up at her.

 

‘There’s some kind of resistance movement out there. I can hear them.’

 

‘How do you mean, “resistance”?’

 

‘British resistance. OK by the sounds of it not very well organised, but all the same, resistance.’

 

‘Where did they come from, and who are they?’

 

Her attention now focused on Finney and what he was doing.

 

‘Don’t know, I just stumbled across their transmission. They appear to be looking for something or someone.’

 

Fiona thought for a moment.

 

‘Can you talk to them, and find out where they are?’

 

‘Don’t know if that would be a good idea or not. Bear in mind we don’t know who they are.’

 

‘Yes I know, but they’re obviously not Annunaki, are they? So that has to make them our friends, doesn’t it?’

 

‘You mean, the enemy of my enemy is my friend, don’t you?’

 

‘Just talk to them, Finney.’

 

‘This is Clarence Finnegan, battalion commander of the ESG land forces. Please respond.’

 

Silence.

 

‘Repeat. This is Clarence Finnegan, battalion commander of the ESG land forces. Please respond.’

 

There was a small crackle on the radio.

 

‘Who?’ a voice said.

 

‘This is Clarence Finnegan, battalion commander of the ESG land forces. Who am I speaking with?’

 

Silence.

 

‘I say again, to whom am I speaking?’

 

Finney threw a glance at Fiona and shrugged his shoulders.

 

The radio crackled back into life.

 

‘This is the British resistance against the Annunaki oppression on Earth.’

 

Finney looked at Fiona again. This time she shrugged.

 

‘What’s your name?’

 

‘Stevie, I mean Steven Graham, sir.’

 

‘Steven, how many do you number in total?’

 

‘About three thousand in all, sir, give or take.’

 

‘Who’s in charge there, Steven?’

 

‘It’s a man called Peter Hadley. He runs everything. I think he’s ex-army or something. Anyway, he seems to know what he’s doing.’

 

‘Where are you just now?

 

‘We’re in a place called Beaconsfield - Woodside Road, I think - anyway, not that far from London.’

 

Finney and Fiona immediately consulted the map of the UK and pinpointed Beaconsfield.

 

‘What are you doing there?’

 

‘We’re tracking an Annunaki patrol.’

 

Fiona looked at Finney.

 

‘You know where they are, don’t you?’

 

Finney knew very well. There was another base underneath Forty Green just a few miles north-west of that position.

 

‘Is your boss about, son?’

 

Finney’s tone had become more authoritative and urgent.

 

‘No, sir, I’m sorry he’s with the guys tracking the Annunaki. I’m doing my best to keep up, but with all this equipment it’s not easy.’

 

‘You need to listen to me, Steven. Leave the equipment where it is and go and catch up with your boss. Tell him you’ve talked to me and to expect reinforcements in the next five minutes. How many Annunaki are you tracking?’

 

Already Finney was making gestures to Fiona and she knew this time exactly what he meant. She left to organise troops and shuttles.

 

‘I think there’s about thirty of them.’

 

‘Good, now go find your boss, son.’

 

Finney opened a line to the bridge on the
Iron Duke
and brought Jumouk up to speed with what had just happened and what he was planning.

 

Fiona was ready when Finney came out. Three shuttles each with fifty ESG troopers on board were waiting for him. As he climbed into the first shuttle Fiona wished him luck.

 

**

 

The three shuttles took off with a nervous Finney in the lead. The route to Beaconsfield was already planned so as not to be noticed, and the shuttles flew below roof height, north towards the railway passing through Denham Green. When the shuttles reached Denham Green they turned west along the railway tracks towards the M25, travelling only a few feet above the tracks. Crossing over the M25, they headed on towards Gerrards Cross, passing under the road bridge there. The next stop was Beaconsfield.

 

After passing under the road bridge at Beaconsfield Station, they left the railway tracks at Woodside Close and landed under the cover of thick and extensive woodland there. Disembarking his ESG troopers, Finney sent out scouts into Woodside Road to find Steven and his group of resistance fighters.

 

It wasn’t long before one of Finney’s scouts found them, sheltering under cover in houses on the intersection of Hogback Wood Road and Eghams Wood Road, a small suburban area right on the outskirts of Beaconsfield. It was flanked by a thickly wooded area, and was a stone’s throw from one of the largest underground bases in the UK.

 

Dispersing his ESG forces into the woodland that flanked the houses, Finney took up a position to observe the thirty or so Annunaki warriors. As he watched, he couldn’t help smiling. The Annunaki warriors had discovered a house with a rectangular swimming pool in its back garden and were indulging in what could only be described as ‘horse play’. The irony of this was not lost on Finney. Here was a race of huge, ugly-looking aliens, bent on the destruction of the human race, playing in an outdoor swimming pool.

 

Finney was soon joined by Peter Hadley the leader of the resistance. Peter was a rugged-looking man with short dark hair and a ragged stubble that couldn’t quite pass for a beard. His face was tanned and Finney thought he was probably about thirty-five. The most striking thing about him, however, was his smile, a warm confident smile that would set anyone at ease in an instant. Finney took to him immediately.

 

**

 

After they had finished introducing themselves and spitting out a rough resume of their military experience, the two men got down to the business of the day: the fastest and quietest way to dispose of the Annunaki warriors. Peter had a force of two hundred resistance fighters with him. Add that to Finney’s one hundred and fifty ESG troopers and they had a resource of three hundred and fifty, more than enough to do the job.

 

The ESG troopers and resistance fighters were now positioned strategically throughout the woods. Now they simply needed the Annunaki warriors to come out and chase them.

 

These warriors were enjoying cooling themselves in the outdoor pool on a hot day, when suddenly five innocent-looking civilians stumbled out of the woods, and came to a standstill in front of them. The Annunaki and civilians stared at each other for what seemed an eternity, then one of the male civilians let out a scream of terror, turned and fled back into the woods, still screaming like a girl.

 

The Annunaki officer in charge barked out a single command, roughly translated as ‘kill’. The rest of the group of civilians broke up, running for their lives and scattering in different directions, but each still heading back to the wood. All the Annunaki warriors gave chase. After all, this was the best sport they had seen since landing on Earth.

 

There were around six Annunaki warriors for each fleeing human, and picking them off in small groups like that would be easy for the ESG. Each fleeing human had their own designated kill zone and would lead the Annunaki warriors into the middle of it, then hit the deck flat. Each kill zone was encircled by thirty ESG troopers who could easily wipe out the Annunaki warriors within the encirclement in a volley of pulse fire.

 

The plan worked perfectly. Within five minutes all thirty warriors were dead, with no losses to the ESG or resistance. The plan had mostly been Finney’s, and after it was over Peter gave him a hearty slap on the back by way of congratulation.

 

**

 

Finney asked Peter if he would come back to Heathrow and meet Fiona and Jumouk. After all, he had a wealth of intelligence regarding Annunaki troop movements in the area, and he was also well briefed about other resistance movements in Britain and around the world. Peter agreed without question, and instructed his lieutenants and men to return to base.

 

The shuttles followed the same route back as they had taken on the way out. By the time they got back Fiona had joined Jumouk on the bridge of the
Iron Duke.
Disembarking from the shuttles, Peter and Finney headed from the landing bay on the
Iron Duke
towards the bridge, Peter being visibly impressed with the
Iron Duke.

 

On the bridge when all the introductions had been made, Jumouk suggested they retire to the conference room for something to eat and drink.

 

During the pleasant meal and well-earned drinks, the conversation was intensive, covering everything from the day’s events to the stylish decor of the
Iron Duke.
After dinner the real talking began.

 

‘So, Peter, why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself?’

 

As usual Jumouk went straight to the point, not aggressively but certainly with a sense of purpose. Finney on the other hand was already coming up with an ingenious plan of his own. He might have just found a way to justify his continued stay on Earth.

 

Peter began.

 

‘First, I must apologise for starting with a confession. My name isn’t Peter Hadley.’

 

‘You’re Russian, aren’t you?’ said Fiona quickly.

 

‘How did you know? I don’t have an accent, I was brought up in the English public school system. My mother was English and my father Russian.’

 

Fiona explained.

 

‘I was a linguist at one point. You use slightly different idioms at times, barely noticeable but still there.’

 

Peter nodded and continued.

 

‘I was born in Russia and named Sacha Sergov, my father’s given name. My mother and I moved to England when I was four, and I went to school here. I moved back to Russia at the age of fifteen when my mother died, and finished my education. When I was thirty I moved back to England, where I took my mother’s name. I’ve been here ever since.’

 

Jumouk looked bemused.

 

‘What did you do when you left school back in Russia?’

 

Peter looked evasive at first, then spat it out.

 

‘I went straight into the army.’

 

This caught Finney’s attention.

 

‘Russian army, I presume. What rank were you when you left?’

 

‘Major.’

 

Finney felt like he had just struck gold.

 

‘What branch of the forces?’

 

An awkward silence fell over the table. Finney coughed into his hand.

 

‘Special forces.’ Peter said briefly.

 

He looked uncomfortable.

 

Finney knew he had struck gold.

 

‘Not...?’

 

Finney hesitated.

 

Peter looked him in the eye.

 

‘Spetsnaz.’

 

Finney’s face lit up.

 

‘Wow!’

 

Fiona looked lost, although she didn’t say anything.

 

Finney explained:

 

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