Last Life (Lifers Book 1)

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Last Life (Lifers Book 1) Page 32

by Thomas,Michael G.


  “You know he’s dead, don’t you?”

  The man had gone beyond reasoning, and his wild eyes focused on Rose. The gun barrel began to line up the shot on her. Rob aimed and fired in a lightning reflex move. He could have killed the General without blinking, but instead struck him in the shoulder, and then the leg. He slumped down, groaning in pain but still alive, to the amazement of Cage.

  Rose gave him an angry look. “You told him to kill me?”

  He shrugged. “It was a risk, but he’s a machine, right, and machines follow rules.”

  Rose’s eyes opened up wide.

  “I couldn’t think of another way to kill him before he went crazy and started blasting.”

  “Still…” Her look was severe, and he knew he’d have some explaining to do. Later. Right now, it was time to go. He got to his feet, and there was movement in the doorway. A man stepped through, saw the bodies on the floor, and the interlopers in his control room.

  Director Vladimir Laszlo stared at Cage in shock. Nobody fired. He looked down at the body of Guzman, and the wounded shape of the General, and assumed he was about to die. But he was no coward. “So you got to them first. What next, you gonna shoot me, too?”

  Cage pointed at him. “Shut your mouth, Laszlo. There’s too much at stake for your bullshit. Are you still in command of your troops?”

  Laszlo looked at the massive tactical display that showed the units of both sides in the battle.

  “Just about, those that haven’t run, why?”

  Cage looked at him. “You want to win this fight, right? Protect Mars?”

  “Sure. That’s all that counts, to protect Mars and its citizens. That’s my only reason for being here.”

  “Good. Help us, and maybe we have a chance.”

  “And after that? Then you’ll kill me?”

  Cage laughed, and then turned to see Hartmann rising from the floor. He still groaned, but incredibly neither bullet seemed to have caused major damage.

  Rob, was that lucky shots, or are you that good?

  He looked at the machine, possibly the remains of his best friend, and sighed. Hartmann moved alongside Laszlo and pulled himself up against the computer panels.

  “What happened to Joshua? You killed him?”

  Cage shook his head.

  “No, he told me what you’d both done.”

  His eyes flicked to Rob, and he considered telling the truth, but then he knew they had other problems right now. The fighting was getting worse by the minute, and the last thing he needed was the same in this room.

  “We found his body underground. There were three Titan bodies there. He was a soldier, General, and he died like one.”

  Hartman’s lip trembled, and Cage had to fight against changing his mind. He wanted to see the man suffer, the man that had caused him and his friends so much pain. So he turned away and pointed to the display.

  “So…what is left of your military?”

  Hartmann cleared his throat, and then limped to the larger of the screens. Cage had expected him to break down, but instead he looked resolved and ready to do what was needed.

  Revenge is a strong motivation.

  “We’ve got what’s left of our RedCorp troopers, security units, MPS, and the corporate militias. It’s enough to deal with your rebel friends, but now it doesn’t matter, does it?”

  Laszlo nodded.

  “He’s correct, whoever wins will have to deal with these Titans.”

  “So…” said Cage, “We stop the fighting right now, and we work together. A single front against the invaders.”

  Both men stared at each other, and Hartmann then looked to Cage and shook his head.

  “Okay, Cage, what’s your plan?”

  By the time Cage had spelled it out, more craft were burning outside after another barrage of missile strikes. The sky seemed darker than before, and combined with the dull, red surface of the planet gave the place a hellish feel. When Cage finished, he moved to the door.

  “Cooperate, and we may have a chance. Otherwise, none.”

  The Director hesitated and then nodded. “Okay, I’ll do what you want.”

  “Okay, then. Give the order for them to move out, and follow me.”

  Cage led the way, stepping over the body of the executives as he left. They walked outside onto the shambles that had once been a smoothly functioning transport hub. On the horizon, the flashes of the distant battle were a stark reminder of what they had yet to face. They were halfway back to the gunship when a PDX transport stopped alongside them. He tensed and fingered the trigger of his rifle. Rob shoved Rose behind him, but as the ramp went down, a voice came through on his helmet comms. Lars Andersen, still guarding the ship they’d flown in on.

  “It’s okay. The PDX is ours. I’ve got some more pilots. They’re not all military, but they can fly our troops into battle. Although nothing more than that, they aren’t fighter pilots.”

  “That’s good enough,” Cage replied, “All I need today is drivers.”

  They climbed the ramp. Inside, the men Jamison had sent were packed in like sardines, but they made space for them. A cheerful face said, “Cage, they said we’d find you here. We thought we’d give you a lift back. Save your energy, you’re gonna need it later.”

  “Yeah.”

  They sped toward the waiting gunships, and he reboarded Andersen’s craft, while the pilots began to take over the silent gunships. In less than ten minutes they were airborne. He looked out of the small windows at the flotilla of aircraft. There were lots of them, as well as a similar number of civilian transports and passenger haulers. They moved quickly over the surface and away from the secondary battle that had broken out at the spaceport. Directly ahead were the landing grounds, and soon the missiles arced toward them. They brought them down with anti-missile fire, but more would come soon. The Titan arsenal was inexhaustible.

  “This is it,” the pilot said, “Landing now. Prepare for immediate deployment.”

  Titan lines came into view. Lars Andersen adjusted the sensors, and his eyes widened when he started to count numbers and gave up. “My God, how many are there? There’s no way we can stop that many.”

  Scores upon scores of heavily armored ground attack vehicles, and overhead, squadron after squadron of aircraft. Fighters, gunships, troop carriers, they were all up.

  “We can beat them,” Cage said, making his voice firm and confident, “We will beat them. Here, today.”

  Men who go into battle believing they’ve already lost are a self-fulfilling prophecy.

  “Land as close to Jamison’s command post as you can. We’ll see how he plans to handle this.”

  He acknowledged and passed on the order to the other gunships. He was a good pilot, and they landed in neat rows close to the laager of vehicles, surrounded by hundreds of rebels. Many more than Jamison could have put into the field. They’d come at last, troops from every part of Tharsis. There were also several companies of RedCorp troopers, after Laszlo gave the order. Jamison greeted them, and he looked upbeat.

  “RedCorp is finished. These troops have aligned with our forces. It seems they decided to fight for Mars, instead of the company. They are even following our orders. What happened?”

  Inwardly, Cage smiled.

  The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Looks like Hartmann has found somebody he hates even more than us.

  “What’s the plan?”

  He waved his hand around their position. “Our ground troops will wait for them to come to us. Some of our ships just came in after they caught Titan fighters in an ambush, and they’re preparing to go back out.”

  “How many ships did we lose?”

  “Three, but we knocked down five of theirs. Not a bad exchange, considering.”

  He grinned in satisfaction, until Cage reminded him a war of attrition would lead to inevitable defeat. “They’ll have many more ships and troops than us. They haven’t come this far without bringing along an overwhelming invasion army, so
we can’t afford to lose any more aircraft. Not a single one. Save them all for the battle, Colonel. Isn’t that your plan, one big battle?”

  “Correct. How do you rate our chances?”

  “It’s the only way. It all depends on the Janissaries. How will you deploy them?”

  “We’re keeping them out of sight, the big surprise. When the Titans get here and the shooting starts, you’ll lead them out, with Rob to pass on your orders. The idea is to hit them hard and fast in one, massive, coordinated attack. They’ll get the shock of their lives and learn they’re not as unbeatable as they think. If it works, we’ll block their advance and stop them taking any more territory. Hurt them so bad, they’ll think twice before trying to attack us again.”

  He didn’t need to say what they’d do if it didn’t work. They’d be dead or enslaved. Probably better dead.

  “What about afterward? They won’t go back to Titan. Not until they have something to show for the effort of bringing their army all this way.”

  He looked uneasy. “We’ll have to negotiate. You’re right. We can’t push them off the planet; we’re not strong enough. And they’ll want something for coming all this way. But that’s for later, first we have to stop them.”

  Cage forced a smile on his lips. “Half a planet is better than what you had before.”

  “True.”

  He didn’t have time to say anymore. A man ran up to them and shouted, “They’re coming.”

  Jamison nodded. “Roger that. All of you know what to do. Go to your assigned positions. Pilots, man your ships, and get them up. Rob, leave Rose and join the Janissaries.”

  He didn’t move.

  Cage tried giving him the order. “Rob, take Rose below, and go to the Janissaries.”

  No response, and then Rose touched him on the arm. “Rob, come with me.”

  She joined Cage and Jamison, and as ever he was right next to her. “You know what the problem is, he won’t abandon me; he’s become my protector. A bodyguard.”

  Cage frowned. “This is no time to screw around.” He regarded the impassive face. “Rob, this is an order. Join the Janissaries. We have to go out and fight the Titans.”

  Nothing. He glanced at Jamison. “Ray, we may have a problem. I don’t know how we can get around this.”

  “I do.” They stared at the woman, “He’ll go if I go, so that settles it. I’m joining you at the head of the Janissaries.”

  Both men shook their heads. Cage snapped, “Not in a million years. No way.”

  “Not your choice, Cage.” She looked at her massive guardian, “Rob, I need the best armor you can find me, and a weapon. Will you help me get ready?”

  He moved at once, gathered up the requested items, and while they watched, prepared her for war. When he’d finished, she looked like a caricature of a soldier. A short, slight woman padded and bulked out with armor over her body, legs, and arms. Over her trunk, an additional flak vest with reinforced ballistic plates. Rob took the job of looking after her seriously. She flexed her muscles, moved her limbs, and tried walking. It wasn’t difficult. Despite the bulk, the equipment had been designed and manufactured for mobility and the lighter, lithe forms of the Martians. She looked at Cage and Jamison. “I’m ready. Rob, get below. We’re joining the Janissaries.”

  She gave a final grin to the two men looking on with horrified expressions, and she was gone. They looked at each other, and Jamison shrugged. “I don’t think we have any choice.”

  “I hate to say it, but that woman is the toughest thing on two legs I’ve yet to encounter.”

  “Yeah. Hold up, aircraft coming in.” He looked up, just as a rebel shouted, “Cover!”

  They flung themselves to the ground, barely in time. Four Titan ground attack aircraft swept in and began to launch missiles. They didn’t have it all their own way. Since the first Titan attack, RedCorp, or what was left of it, had learned a lesson or two. They’d brought their hard-won knowledge and expertise to the rebels, and it was devastating. They waited until the missiles fired, and at that vital moment, for some reason, the anti-missile shields on the enemy gunships were deactivated for a few vital seconds.

  The ground-to-air missiles went up like a cloud and hit the enemy hard. Three went down in flames, and the fourth flew back to their lines trailing smoke. But the attack had cost them dear. Cage looked around their position. They’d lost men, vehicles, and equipment. He stood up with Jamison, and they tried to estimate the losses.

  “I make it about fifty of our people dead. We’ve lost three carriers, and they hit two of the gunships.”

  Jamison nodded. “Many more like that and we won’t have enough to fight with. We can’t take much more of this.”

  Cage pointed ahead, about a kilometer away. “You won’t have long to find out how bad it’s gonna get. My guess is they have around a thousand troops.”

  Jamison stared into the distance at the mass of men moving toward them, and it wasn’t hard to work out what he was thinking.

  How the hell can we go up against a thousand Titans and survive? They took on the hell moon of Titan and beat it. They’ll chew us up and spit us out.

  They were out of options. He turned to Cage and held out his hand. “Time for you to link up with the Janissaries. Good luck, and wait for my call.”

  “Copy that.”

  He worked his way into the underground tunnel, and after a few meters it widened into a large cavern. The creatures were lined up in rows, their rifles at the slope, ranks of robot-like warriors. Rob stood at the front, with Rose beside him, dwarfed by her armor. She looked at him with eyes that carried a trace of fear.

  “How long?”

  “Not long.”

  The noise of battle intensified. The roar of exploding munitions, whipcrack sounds of high velocity railguns rounds striking armor plate, and then it was over them. Jamison’s voice came through on the helmet comms.

  “Now, now, now! Get out here. They’re all over us!”

  “On the way.” He glanced at Rose. “Tell Rob to order them to get moving. This is it.”

  She put her head close to his and spoke softly. As one man, the fearsome warriors began moving, following him toward the surface. Cage ran to join the two figures at the front, one huge, one tiny, and they went out through the tunnel entrance. They emerged into the seventh circle of Dante’s inferno. The circle of violence, the place he reserved for murderers, war-makers, plunderers, and tyrants. Immersed in Phlegethon, the mythical river of boiling blood and fire. Flames everywhere, burning vehicles, missile strikes, and bodies shot to ruin, consigned to the flames sweeping over them.

  The rebels had fought hard. They were edging back, matching the brutal Titans shot for shot. Their new RedCorp allies fought with them side by side. The battle was unlike anything Cage had seen, not in all his years in the military. Human and Martian alongside each other in their mixture of colored armor, engaged at close-range with the Titans.

  They were losing ground. He sensed the moment had arrived, and he saw Rose looking at him, waiting for his order, her body shielded by the massive bulk of Rob.

  “Go now! Forget the tactics. Just send them in one big wedge to drive through and break them up. Now, for Christ’s sake!”

  She spoke to Rob, and Cage was almost trampled in the charge. He increased his pace, and with the power of his cybernetic limbs stayed ahead of the charging pack. The black-armored Titans saw them racing toward them and paused. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. They were the terror troops that enemies ran from. Seconds later, Cage was in the center of a blazing, chaotic nightmare. For a brief time, he felt helpless against the powerful mass of brutal soldiers. And then he dismissed the thought.

  They are men inside those suits. Men I can kill.

  Three Titans identified him as the leader of the Janissaries, and they came at him in a hard-charging, unstoppable rush. He boosted power to his arms and legs, and felt the actuators respond. Then he met the attack. The leading Titan was f
iring, but Cage wasn’t there. He swerved, jumped, and smashed down on them, bringing all three to the ground in a sprawl of armor and fallen weapons. He couldn’t find space to deploy his rifle, but his handgun sought and found the chinks in their armor. At close-range, he couldn’t miss.

  Keeping the trigger depressed, his gunfire tore into the unprotected seals of the suits, ripping holes into the air supply hoses that fed into their helmets. A long, shattering burst, and inside of two seconds they were dying. He didn’t stop, but ran into the next group of hostiles. The Janissaries were fully engaged, but there’d been no wild charge, no emotion, fear, or exhilaration. They went into the heat of battle and fought in silence. He saw Rob at the front, continually pushing Rose back behind him, hacking down the enemy like chaff before a harvester as he fired with his powerful railgun cannon. He took hit after hit, scores of bullets from the Titans’ cyclic rotary guns tore into him, but he wasn’t a man. Except for some obscure remnant of brain, he was a cybernetic machine, and he reacted as though it was just rain smacking into his body.

  The boiling mass of men, Janissaries, Titans, and Martians merged into the smoke, dust, and flame. The screams and shouts over the comms, wounded men, agonized and dying alone, pierced their ears. Their suits ruined, air hissing away into the soulless, airless atmosphere.

  “Keep advancing. Drive them back!”

  In the middle of the maelstrom, a new group rose from underground, a platoon of rebels, with Sheriff Harrison Vos in the lead. He wore a sealed suit like the rest of them, but his paunchy body identified him as Vos, and he was angry. An armored fist narrowly missed Cage’s face shield. He twisted around and swung his rifle muzzle at a Titan, only for another to push in and deflect it. A burst of fire raked his shoulder, and he staggered back. Two more Titans stepped in, weapons raised to kill him.

  Vos pushed past, lifting his antiquated .44 Magnum, the big Colt incongruous amidst the plastic, the synthetics, the high-tech railguns, and energy weapons. Vos opened fire, one shot after another, hitting the Titans at close-range. Despite their technology and armor, he did real damage. Their armor may be proof against modern weaponry, but the big, three hundred grain rounds punched through vulnerable areas of the armor, knocking them back with sheer brute, antiquated force. Railgun rounds or antique Magnum bullets, it made little difference. Death was death. He locked gazes with Cage and grinned as he reloaded the six-round cylinder. His voice crackled over the intercom.

 

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