Planet Genocide I (Galaxies Collide Book 3) (21 page)

The few Morgon troops outside the building raised their weapons, the pilots ducking as glowing tracer fire swept across the front of the aircraft, the aliens firing in anticipation of the plane’s route. The experienced American Captain shouted in terror, ‘Pull Up! Pull Up!’ The enormous silver jet rising further as the four engines whined, the plane banking violently to the east as bullets swept past, the screams from the passenger cabin reaching fever pitch as they saw the burning ground buildings below through the right windows.

The jet soared, banking from side to side dramatically to avoid any potential ground fire, the knuckles of the passengers white on their seat rests as they stared forward, most with eyes closed. The angle of climb was dramatic, the plane unrestricted by cargo and a reduced passenger load, the pilots smiling grimly as they reached reduced the steep ascent, their eyes moving to the windows to stare into the city lights below, several fires burning out of control as the jet swept through some cloud, obscuring the view.

Slowly the passengers settled back in their seats, some wiping tears from their eyes, others smiling in open relief as an electronic beep sounded across the passenger cabin, the American accent booming across the speakers, ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, we would like to welcome you aboard this American Airlines flight to freedom and safety…’

The border crossing had been relatively quiet, the additional soldiers deployed as security by the Chinese deterring the usual fraternisation and conversations between the two nations’ soldiers. Usually the border security troops would chat, smoke and exchange their cooked rations across the divide, their commanders turning a blind eye to the break in discipline to encourage cooperation and avoid any potential incidents. With the escalation in security and arrival of political officers, a cooler diplomatic relationship had ensued for the last two days, the soldiers withdrawing to their checkpoints and leaving the narrow expanse of darkened forest tracks between the two nations virtually deserted.

As the wind rustled through the undergrowth, the temperature declined, the Chinese soldiers donning their padded uniformed jackets and chatting in hushed groups and pairs as their commanders scrutinised the terrain through infra-red binoculars. Rumours of heavy fighting in South Korea had spread rapidly, the state of alert heightened as tanks and SAM missile units were quietly moved to the border, the military command keen to observe their southern neighbours fight any invading army before they reached the Chinese territory.

On one of the busiest border points, security had been raised even further, the Chinese political officers ordered to search every crossing vehicle, preventing any suspected refugees from the south being smuggled across the border. Regular armed patrols were sent through the woods, their strength increased as intelligence revealed a build-up of civilians on the south side of the border, the North Korean soldiers requesting additional food and supplies from their neighbours as the communication with their command posts further south were jammed.

As an eerie silence descended for the third night, the Chinese soldiers shook their heads in frustration, knowing the North Korean civilians less than a mile away were bedding down in near freezing conditions, the utter black darkness to the south indicating there were no fires for warmth or comfort.

Several stared upwards at the bright shining stars, realising their exhaled breath was condensing as the conditions worsened, their hoods pulled over their helmets for warmth as the temperature dropped further.

At the forward guard post, Lieutenant Xing Cheung stared through his binoculars, meticulously studying the terrain as he had done several times over the last hour. Chosen specifically for his naïve determination to follow orders to the letter, the slim twenty-three-year-old was ideal for this guard duty command, the officer having read his written orders several times to ensure understanding.

Disliked by his troops, Cheung was oblivious to their raised eyes and shaking heads when he issued orders, preferring to ensure his commands were carried out through reprisal rather than motivational techniques.

Sensing his sergeant arrive next to him, Xing lowered his glasses, his eyes straining as he saw a flash in the distance, the binoculars rising again quickly. Another flash, then a distant soundwave of gunfire, single shots as the disgruntled North Korean soldiers dismissed their political officers for the final time, the orders to forcibly move the civilians back south in freezing conditions proving an instruction too much to bear. Tensions had escalated considerably over the preceding day, the orders and reprisals becoming more vicious from commanders as rumours of an enemy fighting the South Koreans had arrived, spreading fear and disillusionment. The endless propaganda now disbelieved and openly scoffed at as the North Korean soldiers realised that the tiresome warmongering had just been a front of terror to create unity, the enemy no longer considered their democratic neighbours or the United States of America.

Cheung stared out as glowing figures moved in the distance, the trees obscuring his view as he jerked the binoculars around. Then he drew breath, seeing the figures run along the tracks towards the border, more and more heat from bodies joining the sight as the civilians surged towards the border, ushered forward by the border guards.

He spun round, his sergeant looking at him with concern, the young officer barking orders, ‘Enemy approaching…prepare to fire…’

The subordinate’s eyes widened, ‘Enemy? Are they not North Korean?’

Cheung gritted his teeth in irritation, ‘We have our orders…no one is to cross the border…prepare to fire!’

The sergeant stiffened, shaking his head reluctantly, ‘Yes Sir!’ His hand jerked to his forehead, saluting as he spun round, striding out into the darkness, his voice rising, ‘Orders to fire received…enemy soldiers approaching!’

The sounds of weapons being heaved into position and prepared cracked across the silence, Lieutenant Xing Cheung striding from the sandbagged post, ‘Fire flares! Shoot to kill when ordered!’

The puffs of flare guns filled the area, several trap flares erupting as the bodies surged towards the Chinese border, the lights blinking and flashing across the trees as the defending gunners lowered themselves behind their weapons, their eyes widening as they saw the dishevelled shuffling figures, soldiers ushering them urgently forward.

Xing Cheung raised his glasses again, seeing the gasping exhaled breath and lights cascading across women and children, several elderly being helped by the North Korean soldiers, his voice firm as he shouted, ‘Prepare to fire!’

The sergeant stopped next to him, his voice a sneer, ‘These are clearly civilians, Sir! I will not order my men to fire…they are refugees fleeing from the south!’

Xing spun round, his eyes narrowing in anger as he stared into his subordinate’s face, ‘We have orders to prevent refugees crossing our border…I have freedom of action to decide how…’

The sergeant glared at him, his eyes wide with hatred as the whimpering and coughing of the civilians approached, his voice a hiss as his face neared the superior officer’s, ‘Sir…you are our commander…these people will pass. If you order our soldiers to fire, you will die here at my hand…’ The subordinate spun round, his voice almost breaking with raised adrenalin, ‘Lower your weapons…allow them through!’

Xing Cheung instinctively reached for the holstered pistol at his waist, the rage pouring though his body as his chest heaved air. His fist clenching and grasping the leather holster strap in futility as the voice of his radio operator behind him whispered firmly, the barrel of a pistol thrust into his lower back, ‘Not now, Sir…you need to stand down! Just breathe deeply…and let them live.’

The lieutenant’s body stiffened with shock, his clenched fists dropping in defeat to his sides as he gasped, the communications soldier usually fully subservient, the voice continuing at a determined whisper, ‘It’s time for change…the world as we knew it has gone…forever.’

Along the seafront of Busan in the south east corner of South Korea, the tourist sights of Taejongdae lay in ruins, the famous lighthouse now crushed and submerged at the foot of the rocks where it had once stood staring out to sea. The shattered buildings of the fish market and downtown areas smouldered from the shellfire, machine gun fire and rifle shots ringing out through the debris strewn streets as South Korean marine recruits fought the Morgon soldiers building by building.

The conscripted young soldiers, many no older than eighteen with only weeks of training had been summoned from their bunks, rifles and machine guns thrust into their trembling hands as their instructors informed them of the impending threat. Even the musician squads were handed arms, their tearful eyes staring upwards as they queued to the ammunition block, fighters sweeping overhead as distant sirens wailed near the seafront.

Distant muffled sporadic gunfire was already sweeping in from the coast as the young recruits stumbled out into the cold daylight, ushered into their training vehicles as tyres screeched, the armoured carriers and lorries speeding from the complex gates and towards the coast. As they sat trembling with excitement and fear, the unit’s commanders instructing their youthful squads with the briefest of updates, that the enemy was landing and that they…the young brave soldiers of South Korea…would drive the aggressors back into the water.

Rousing speeches were shouted across the rear of the carriers and lorries as they bounced through the city streets, crashing and forcing their way past civilian cars and small delivery vans, the grinding of metal and screams of fear from outside causing the young recruits to bow their heads in shame and grim determination. Their instructors stood amongst them, desperately attempting to complete the formation of soldiers amongst the young minds, the time for training now at an end as several youths stared upwards with tears in their eyes.

The explosions got nearer, the advance units of recruits nearly at the end of their training retreating under the weight of fire from the enemy invaders. Crouched in broken buildings, the young forward soldiers glanced fearfully around their dwindling numbers, their dead and dying countrymen moaning or shouting for help through the distant streets. This was fighting they had never imagined in their wildest dreams, acid grenades and high calibre bullets shattering their lines and friends as screams of pain cut through their morale and determination.

The emergence of enemy walkers from the waves had broken their lines, laser fire and acid spewing from the forward guns as the young recruits shrieked in fear, their bullets seeming to be ineffective against the enemy body and walker armour.

The rattle of tank tracks and armoured cars had bolstered their strained and shattered resolve, more determined unit commanders taking charge and dispersing the soldiers into the sturdier of the buildings, the units now defending the city centre as Morgon reinforcements trudged in from the sea, their body armour glistening as water dripped from the exoskeleton plate.

The lorries and armoured transports screeched to a halt, unit commanders pushing their young recruits out into the street, explosions rocking the nearby buildings as they shouted instructions, the youthful soldiers running into the nearby offices as tanks fired in the side streets. Machine guns chattered to either side, smoke and acrid burning filling their nostrils as they gripped their weapons nervously.

As they ran through damaged reception areas and apartment entrances, the tank tracks ground against debris in the streets, dust pouring from rooftops and ceilings as the walls vibrated. Reaching the shattered windows and openings, the soldiers stared out cautiously, some ducking back as sniper fire cracked against the masonry, others falling victim to the experienced gunners. The shrieks of some soldiers chilling others as they stared down on the first dead casualties, the black armoured muscled figures in the distance rising up to advance as walkers emerged behind them.

Explosions tore through walls, debris flying outwards as the rockets from Morgon rifles bombarded the defenders, their own commanders keen to advance inland and break any human resistance. Engineers and shock troops crashed through adjoining building walls, cutting down the screaming young defenders as they advanced, their targets gradually getting nearer as the guns of the tanks roared. Several other engineers checked mobile screens on their upper wrists, shrieking at their commanders that the designated areas they were required to capture were still some distance ahead. On the seafront, the thuds of artillery swept across the buildings, acid and high explosive shells beginning to rain down on the central district and northern suburbs.

To the north, the motorway bridges across the wide Nakdong River were busy with vehicles speeding from the coast. All the lanes bar one were reserved for northbound traffic, the one remaining carriageway for army convoys heading south, the military lorries and trucks roaring through tunnels and across the bridges as the police motorcyclists waved them on.

Behind the wheel of his Hyundai saloon, Gusung Shin touched the brakes, glancing in the rear view mirror to check on his wife, the weeping woman clutching their two young children in fear as she shielded their eyes. Approaching the end of the long bridge, he sighed, seeing the numerous brake lights ahead, the cars slowing as army lorries were waved across the carriageway.

As the car slowed to a halt, he considered their hasty escape from Busan earlier that morning, his frantic gathering of meagre possessions as a siren wailed on the seafront, his actions accelerating as he had stiffened, the muffled sounds of rifle fire echoing across the walls of their compact apartment as he ushered the sleepy children towards the door.

Gusung smiled briefly, the small family terrier yawning loudly in the passenger seat foot well, the animal oblivious to the danger and panic around them. Horns blared as he stared through the windscreen, rain drops beginning to run down the glass as the weather began to worsen. He looked out to the side, along the wide riverbank, his eyes widening as he glimpsed soldiers working feverishly on defensive positions, their bare upper torsos ignoring the cold and rain as sandbags and trenches were hurriedly formed in the banks amongst the trees and undergrowth.

Lightning crackled across the dull sky in the distance, the rumble of thunder shortly afterwards. The drive would take a long time to the north, his decision to go to the far north east and stay with his parents irritating his wife, but reassuring his thoughts for safety. Gusung realised his job at the deep water cargo terminals of Busan was probably now at an end, survival and protection overtaking the need for a career and wealth.

As the large lorries rolled past, he glanced up at the grim expressions on the soldiers faces, realising he himself would probably be called up once they arrived at their destination. His own national service having been completed on guard duty in the northern port of Incheon, interrogating anyone suspected of working for the North Korean Intelligence Service, the high frequency of foreign ships an ideal cover for potential enemy agents.

As the seemingly endless convoy of lorries and armoured vehicles passed to his left, he stared at the tanks manoeuvring across the highway in front, a jolt of adrenalin shooting through his thirty-five-year-old frame as flashes in the distance startled him. His wife leant forward cautiously, placing her hand on his shoulder, ‘More thunder? There will be a nasty storm soon…’

Gusung shook his head, his grip tensing on the steering wheel, ‘Not thunder…that’s heavy artillery probably firing into our home city…’ His voice tailed off as numerous rockets swept upwards from beyond the trees, his breath held as he pointed, ‘They are using short range missiles…it must be bad at the coast!’

The car shook, six military jets sweeping low along the river and following its contours as they roared towards the city ahead, the after burn booming across the sky as sirens began to sound on the south bank. His wife slumped back, pulling their children to her as she cried, ‘W-what will happen?’

Gusung glanced in the side mirrors, stiffening as he glimpsed soldiers leap from the lorries behind, their camouflaged bodies and helmets ducking down along the sides of the bridge, ‘I don’t know dear…’ The cars ahead lurched forward, the engine roaring as he pushed his foot on the accelerator, engaging gear and controlling is tone as he glanced in the mirrors nervously again, ‘We just need to get through the tunnel ahead…we will be safer then.’