Battle Earth VIII (Book 8)

by Nick S. Thomas

  "Trust me, no need to live record. You put a video together, and if it’s half as controversial as you think it is, the World will know about it before this day is over."

  "All right, then I need a cameraman."

  "What is the location?"

  "The clone’s cell. Behind the mirrored glass so that the camera may see him, but he cannot interfere."

  "And all this is cleared by General Dupont?"

  "We have free rein to do whatever the hell we want."

  An hour later Taylor and Jones sat in the room as planned and ready to go. Taylor knew it wasn’t being shown live, but the fact it would go out to so many so soon gave him the jitters all the same. He looked to the cameraman.

  "When I say you roll, you do so until I say stop, okay?"

  The man nodded in agreement.

  "We're gonna put this out as is. No fancy cutting, editing, or any of that shit. This is gonna hit 'em straight."

  He turned to see Jones staring at his clone. It hadn't occurred to Taylor that despite it being big news, his friend had never seen it for himself.

  "Cloning? I used to read about it and thought it was fascinating. I used to joke to my mates at Sandhurst if we ever got to cloning, I would have ten of myself cloned so I'd finally have someone worth talking to."

  "Wow, bet your mates really loved you."

  "I think maybe the humour is lost on Americans."

  "If that's what British humour is like, you can keep it."

  That at least brought a smile to his face.

  "If they cloned me once, how do you know they won't do it again? Maybe they already have."

  "Probably. But they have played their hand and it failed. We're wise to it now."

  "But how do you know I am...well me, right now?"

  "I had you scanned on the way through, and I am working on getting you scanned, as well as everyone else in the Regiment every single day. God knows what possibilities there are for infiltrating us, and we cannot have it happen again."

  "But do you think it's wise me staying in the unit when it is such a danger?"

  "Bullshit. They could clone any one of us. I need you. The Regiment needs you. Don't tell me you're having second thoughts about fighting."

  He shook his head.

  "I couldn't face Coco and tell her I’d quit. I'm in this till the very end of the fighting."

  "Better make that sooner rather later, okay?"

  "Do my best."

  "Ready when you are," said the cameraman.

  Taylor knew he could have as many takes as he liked, but he didn’t have the patience for a second take. He looked to Jones who looked more comfortable with the whole thing than he did.

  “I’ll do the talking. You’re just here to look pretty.”

  “I always was the more handsome one.”

  He looked into the cell. The clone stared into their room as if he knew they were there. “Still freaks the hell out of me to see that thing that looks like your twin.”

  “Just say the word, and I’ll end its miserable life.”

  “Love to, believe me. Let’s do this,” he turned to the cameraman. “Roll the camera.”

  He was given the thumbs up, and for a moment he remained silent. He looked at the floor, trying to think over how he could appeal to the World’s population, and then in a moment of clarity, he just opened up and spoke his mind.

  “This is Mitch Taylor, Colonel in the Inter-Allied Regiment, and hopefully still the United States Marines Corps. I currently fight for the European Alliance in a war that I know has to be fought. While some nations choose to stay out of this war, I feel it my duty to inform you, the taxpaying voting public of your respective nations, of what is truly going on here.”

  He looked over to Jones who seemed fairly impressed and that spurred him on to continue.

  “What you need to know is that the war currently fought in Europe is not a simple war between two Earth alliances. It is not just a human war, and I need to show you how.”

  He pointed for the cameraman to pan over to Jones.

  “This is my good friend and fellow officer, Captain Charlie Jones. A man who has served his country and this Earth with distinction since the first invasion, and at a massive personal cost, I must add. Captain Jones, do you have any siblings?”

  “No,” he quickly replied.

  “Let that be known. Captain Jones is an only child. Now can you please focus on the subject behind this screen with Captain Jones still in frame.”

  He did as requested.

  “The man this side of the glass is the same Charlie Jones I have known for as long as I can remember. What you see inside that cell looks identical to Jones. It shares the same genetic make up, and is for all intents and purposes the same man. And yet, the man in that cell murdered a number of staff on this base and tried to keep a very real secret from you. The aliens we thought were beaten; they weren’t beat at all. Bloodied and weakened yes, but far from beat.”

  He pointed for the camera to come back to him, and the cameraman quickly obliged.

  “Alien agents are among us. Human clones that are almost indistinguishable from the friends, family, and neighbours we have known our entire lives. This is not a time to become suspicious of all those around you, but to stand together. The Krys, the alien invaders, will take this world again, and they are doing so under the name of the UEN. They are fighting us from within. We tried to stop this war, but that was impossible. We have just one choice left, to win it. The United States will not choose a side, nor will many others. I am here to tell you that we don’t fight for a country; we are fighting for our planet. We fight for Earth and the existence of the human race. Your leaders may not see sense, but you can be the judge. We need fighters to fight for this world. Join us, before it is too late.”

  He looked over to Jones for approval, and he nodded in response.

  “All right, that’ll do.”

  The cameraman cut the recording and asked, “All that really true?”

  Taylor nodded in response.

  “Shit.”

  “That about sums it up.”

  Taylor looked back to Jones. “What d’ya think?”

  “Well it was corny as hell, but the yanks will love it.”

  Taylor led them out of the room to where Bernard was waiting them.

  "That was quick," he said in surprise.

  "Easy when you know what you want to say," he replied. "As I told your man here, I don't want any fancy cuts or editing. I don't want anyone claiming the video is fake for whatever stupid reasons."

  "They will anyway if it becomes popular enough."

  "Well, no matter. Do your thing, whatever that is."

  "Gladly."

  Mitch was still dubious that anything could come of such a simple self-published video, but it required so little effort and resources, he was willing to give Bernard the benefit of the doubt.

  "You've got twenty-four hours," said Taylor. "If it hasn't worked by then, we go with my plan."

  Bernard was already watching the video on a screen nearby and was utterly engrossed with it. It reached the shot of the clone, and he was flabbergasted.

  "I'd heard rumours about this, is it really true?"

  "Unfortunately," replied Jones.

  "This is going to blow peoples’ minds," he stated.

  Taylor nodded and left it with him.

  As they strolled out of the building into the daylight once more, Jones asked, "You know you have just incited rebellion in your own country, as well as probably countless others."

  "If governments can't handle the truth, on their heads, so be it."

  Jones smiled. "Viva la revolution."

  Hours later Taylor sat about a large maintenance bay where his unit had taken shelter from the sun, awaiting their next assignment. They all accepted that leave was a thing of the past. Most were cleaning weapons and equipment, including Taylor. His rifle was new off the shelf, since his old one required extensive repairs. He strip
ped the new weapon to every last component part and adjusted and reassembled it to his own configuration.

  A large screen projection at one end of the hall had an Earth news channel playing; a United States endorsed and funded station that acted under the guise of neutral politics, despite few knowing its true identity. Most of the day’s stories had been covering sport. It seemed bizarre while those who watched it were living in a war zone.

  "I guess the US really doesn't want involvement in this war?"

  "I don't think anybody wants to be involved in this war, Charlie. They just haven't realised yet that they have no choice but to be," replied Taylor.

  "Colonel Taylor!" came a call.

  His grip reached for his sidearm instinctively. He looked up. An officer stood before him, silhouetted against the light coming through a ceiling light. He covered his eyes from the glare and recognised Becker, the German tank commander. Taylor leapt to his feet. He could see the German flag Becker had always worn with pride was gone, replaced with a black double-headed eagle encased in a vivid yellow shield. He wasn't at all familiar with the symbol.

  "What the hell are you doing here?"

  "I might ask you the same question."

  "No, but I mean really, why are you here? Your country is at war with France."

  "No, the German government is at war with France and certain idiotic creatures with it. I still fight for Germany in the only way I can. Took me a little while to convince the EA I was genuine, but here I am."

  Taylor was still looking at the symbol on Becker's sleeve, and the Captain felt he needed to explain.

  "Holy Roman Empire," he stated. "It's how I can still fight as a German, without being shot for being one."

  Taylor laughed. "Honestly, I'm amazed to see you are even still alive."

  "Likewise."

  Becker's attention suddenly turned, and his eyes looked past the Colonel to the end of the room.

  "Looks like you are creating quite a stir."

  Taylor looked confused. He turned to find out what the Captain meant and was met by his face projected on the massive screen.

  "No way," he whispered.

  "Turn it up!" Jones shouted out.

  A moment later, he was listening to his own voice as recorded earlier that day on one of the most watched news stations in the World. He couldn't believe his eyes.

  "It's the Colonel!" one of the unit shouted. "Get a look at the Colonel!" another one called out. Cheering rang out and swallowed up the sound from his interview, but it was okay, he didn't need to hear it.

  "What have you got yourself into, Colonel?" asked Becker.

  "Long story, but in essence, we need more people like you. Volunteers to fight for what needs to be fought for."

  Silva walked over to join them with a huge grin across his face. "Man, White is gonna be pissed."

  "Well, I can't keep everyone happy."

  Most of the Regiment was in the huge room and beginning to chant his name with excitement. He knew he had to get up and talk to them. He climbed up onto a nearby table and lifted his hands. Silence quickly followed.

  "Every man and woman among you joined me in this war because you knew it was the right thing to do. Our government, our Generals, they still sit on the fence while we fight and die. Today, I am giving every American and every other nation’s citizens a chance to decide for themselves!"

  Becker leaned over to Jones.

  "How does he do it?"

  "What?"

  "Survive, after pissing off so many people, and remain so fiercely popular?"

  Jones shook his head for he didn't rightly know. "It is quite amazing."

  The video interview replayed again on the screen until finally it was cut short and went back to a news desk. The crowd booed but were silenced by Silva's booming voice hollering, "Quiet!"

  They were all fixated on the screen now and watched as the news anchor was clearly receiving notes through a hidden earpiece before relaying them on air. The anchor was a well-dressed blonde in her late thirties and always looked one hundred percent confident in her presentation, except for this time. She looked uneasy with what she was hearing and hesitated for a moment before speaking with a slightly shaken voice.

  "We have had a request from the White House for an immediate broadcast from their location...Going now live to the White House..."

  The familiar White House conference room set appeared before them, but it was empty. A few moments later a man stepped up to the podium, but nobody recognised him. He was in his early thirties and Hispanic. It was clear he was prepped for the interview but was doing his best to appear confident.

  "Thank you, Ladies and Gentlemen, for appearing on such short notice. I am Rodrigo Vidal, and I am advisor to the President. I am here on the President's behalf to ask for calm and consideration at this time. I am sure all of you have by now seen the broadcast put out a few hours ago by what appears to be Mitch Taylor. Let me remind you that Colonel Taylor is currently AWOL from the Marine Corps, and is acting of his own accord. We have no authentication of the videos source, nor any evidence that any material therein is accurate."

  He took in a deep breath, and not one of the members of the press interrupted him as they waited with baited breath.

  "The United States has seen no evidence of cloned humans or Krys involvement in the war currently being fought in Europe and its surrounding area. We have no choice but to declare this video a hoax. I repeat, the President has asked for calm consideration during this troubling time in the World. Thank you. That will be all."

  Reporters jumped to get his attention, but he carried on as quickly as he could.

  "Fucking asshole," said Silva. "A hoax? Get the President here, and we'll show him a fucking hoax."

  "He's just towing the line. That video was never targeted at the government. It was for everyone else."

  The troops were heckling the screen as it returned to the news anchor.

  Becker was stunned. "You...you really just did that? That really was you who put that out there?"

  Taylor nodded.

  "Think it'll work?" asked Jones.

  "We can only hope."

  "If this evidence exists, why not get it out to the World?" asked Becker. "Why not make everyone see it to be true? Hell, even take it to the UEN. They can't understand the shit they've gotten themselves into."

  "It's what we've been trying to do, and yes we tried that as well. Nearly cost us our lives. No, there is no negotiation to be had with the UEN anymore. Maybe we can get a few individuals like you to cross over, but this war will only end when we win it."

  "So what now?" asked Silva.

  "Wait and see. Worst case, is nothing at all."

  "Colonel Taylor!" a voice boomed.

  He turned to see General Dupont standing before him.

  Oh, shit!

  "When did getting the evidence out to the World include open recruiting of citizens from neutral countries?"

  Taylor shrugged his shoulders and stayed calm.

  "You just did what none of my advisors would dare do, and what a job you did. Governments are panicking. Discussion of clones and alien involvement is spreading like wildfire. I didn't believe it ever could have worked."

  "Just gotta have a little faith, Sir."

  "We all knew you could fight, but who could ever have known you were capable of anything like diplomacy."

  "I wouldn't call it that," he replied.

  "Whatever you want to call it, you just stirred up the hornets' nest, Taylor."

  "That's what I do."

  Dupont walked off confidently, shaking his head in astonishment.

  "When in the high hell did you get him on side?" asked Becker.

  "It's a long story."

  Parker appeared out of nowhere, a puzzled expression on her face.

  "Never thought you had it in you," she said.

  "I'm full of surprises."

  Chapter 7

  Taylor awoke to a hammering on his door,
causing him to leap from his bed and grab his sidearm. He rushed to the door wearing nothing but his underwear and saw Eli readying her rifle.

  "Who is it?" he shouted.

  "Silva!"

  Taylor ripped open the door and thrust his pistol out in the face of the Sergeant Major.

  "Whoa, whoa, it really is me," he complained.

  Taylor looked around suspiciously outside the door before lowering his pistol.

  "What is it?"

  "It worked!" he said excitedly.

  "What d'ya mean?"

  "A Marine regiment has departed the United States to pledge allegiance to you personally, and more are sure to follow. The government hasn't been able to stop them!"

  Taylor rubbed his eyes, trying to work out if he was dreaming.

  "All right, give me a minute. I'll be with you shortly."

  He shut the door and reached for his clothes.

  "If the President wasn't pissed enough with you before, he certainly will be now," said Parker.

  "So what? My job isn't to make friends and kiss ass. It's to win this war through whatever means necessary."

  "Job? Are you being paid?"

  He shook his head.

  "Okay, it's my duty, my calling, whatever you want to call it. Hardly a time to worry about money."

  "No, not when your head can get removed from your shoulders at any moment from even those close to you."

  "What are you saying?"

  "You need to be careful, Mitch. You may be making a lot of friends right now, but probably just as many enemies."

  "Well then, you'll have to have my back, won't you?"

  "Always."

  He pulled on his boots and was out the door, leaving her still getting dressed.

  "Way to go, Colonel!"

  It was a passing soldier he'd never seen before in his life. He nodded in acknowledgement and continued on when he caught sight of a few objects in the sky. They appeared to be drones. He jumped to the nearest wall for cover and then peered around for a better look. They were drones all right, but they appeared to carry no weapons and were hovering over a drill square a hundred metres away. Out of curiosity, he made his way towards them, despite being naturally suspicious.

  He took a bend and found Reiter and a few of his team standing around a pile of equipment. Acosta stood watching them. The Private noticed his arrival and beckoned for him to come forward.