Battle Earth IX (Book 9)

by Nick S. Thomas

  "Some rescue attempt, hey?" asked Taylor.

  "We're alive, aren't we?"

  Taylor looked around at the devastation around them. He was glad to see his closest friends had made it, but so many more of his comrades had not.

  "So what's our situation, Mitch?"

  "Shit."

  Taylor staggered to his feet, noting Jones was still awaiting a proper answer.

  "Honestly? Somewhere in the Atlantic, beyond that I have no clue."

  "We still on the surface?"

  Taylor shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

  He turned to the remaining crewmembers.

  "Well?"

  The pilot stuttered.

  "Simple answer!" Jones said.

  "In theory, if all breaches were sealed, I guess we could float. But with the damage we took before and during impact, I can't imagine we're too airtight."

  "So what are you saying?"

  "That we're taking on water," Taylor replied.

  "How long do we have?" asked Jones.

  The pilot shrugged.

  "I suggest we make a move fast. At the bottom of the ocean bed ain't how I saw myself ending," stated Spears.

  Rains stepped out from the back of the line and appeared remarkably unscathed by the fighting or crash landing. Taylor looked at him astonished.

  "Where the hell have you been?"

  "Keeping my head from being blown off. I rather like it where it is."

  Taylor couldn't disagree. He looked around to see a motley group, many of which who were at each other's throats just an hour before, but now all looked to him for answers.

  "All right, right now we're as deep into this heap of junk as we can be. We need to stick together and get the hell off this thing before it drags us to hell. I need a volunteer who is best suited to guiding us to the surface."

  Nobody responded, and he wasn't surprised. It was a lot of responsibility to place on one soul. He looked around for the best person for the job until he finally stopped at Sergeant Lang. He was firmly stuck to Jones' side and eager to be led rather than have to face it all head on.

  "Sergeant, you must know the ship better than most. You got point. Lead us out of here."

  Lang looked horrified, but Taylor wasn't going to take no for an answer.

  "The Nassau has fallen, Sergeant. The only task that remains is your duty to protect her crew. Will you do that?"

  He reluctantly nodded in agreement.

  "Yes...yes, Sir."

  "All right, we take the wounded with us. I'll be up front with the Sergeant here. Jones you bring up the rear, and let's get moving."

  A dozen casualties who were still breathing were hauled onto their feet. Taylor knew they would slow the pace substantially, but he could not bring himself to do otherwise. He grabbed a few magazines from one of their own dead at the door and stuffed them into his pouches before slamming one into the rifle. Lang stood next to him and looked down past the line of dead Mechs leading to the bridge. He was in a daze. Parker and Silver moved up to join them.

  "Lang, you're leading us, but you stay two paces behind me the whole way, you hear? We can't afford to lose our guide, you got that?"

  Taylor could see the relief in Lang's eyes at the realisation he wasn't going to have to go first. He looked back to see the line was now ready to move. Jafar carried one of the wounded on his shoulder with ease while still holding his rifle at the ready. He turned back to Lang.

  "You ready?"

  A scream echoed from several corridors away, sending a shiver down the Sergeant's back, but he nodded in agreement.

  "Okay, let's move out, quick as we can."

  He stepped out first.

  "You're gonna have to speak up, Sergeant. Guide me."

  "Uhhh..."

  "Don't think. You know this ship. Walk it like you would any other day of the week."

  "Keep going till we reach a flight of stairs directly ahead."

  "That's it," he muttered, picking up the pace. Another scream rang out which was much closer now, and they realised they were heading right for the source of it. The stairs were in sight, but as they reached them, a Mech tumbled down and landed at the base. Taylor lifted his rifle to fire at the creature that was flailing to get up. But before he could pull the trigger, a grenade tumbled down the stairs and ignited on the creature. He raised his shield just in time as the blast sent shrapnel flying towards them. He looked up. The metal grid stairs were partly collapsed and now blocked.

  "For Christ’s sake, can nothing go our way?" he said to himself.

  "It's okay. Follow me," replied Lang.

  He rushed out to Taylor's left and got up pace down another corridor.

  "Back!" he screamed.

  Taylor rushed on after him, but he would not slow down. The Colonel looked back. The column could not match their pace with all the wounded. He rushed forward to stop the marine, reaching him at a bend where he had stopped for a moment. Taylor got a firm grasp on his backplate and yanked him back. As he did so, a shot ricocheted off the wall where he had been a second before. Taylor threw the Sergeant behind him as the others got to them. He peaked out around the corner, trying to locate the shooter. The sight of a Mech soldier rapidly advancing towards him at just ten metres away shocked him. Mitch ducked back as more shots landed beside him.

  "Right, you son of a bitch," he whispered.

  He could hear the steps now. Lang didn't know what to do and couldn't believe Taylor simply waited for the creature to close in on them. Mitch took in a deep breath, and in the last few steps as the Mech got to them, he spun out from the corner and smashed his shield up into the Mech's weapon, driving it high. As the creature’s rifle fired into the ceiling, he drove his gun into its stomach and fired on full auto.

  The Mech spasmed, its abdomen riddled with bullets. Finally, it went limp. Taylor tossed the body back onto the deck in disgust to reveal the barrel of his rifle that was now drenched in blood. He looked back to Lang who was still speechless.

  "You give directions, and I lead. You stay behind me, you hear?"

  He nodded and pointed for them to go the way the creature had come from.

  "Let's move."

  They got ten metres when an explosion rang out not far from their position. Taylor stopped immediately, waiting and listening for anything else. But a moment later, he could hear the sound of running water.

  "Oh, shit," he murmured.

  His worst fear had come true.

  "We're going down, and fast."

  Water gushed around a corner up ahead and almost immediately covered their boots. He thought about asking Lang for other options on how to get out, for just a split second, but he knew such indecision could end them as quickly as making the wrong one.

  "Keep moving!" he boomed.

  He could feel the weight of the water pushing against his feet, and his already exhausted legs were feeling like lead weights trying to drag him down. He struggled on, telling himself he wasn't willing to die down there. As a marine, he knew the situation could occur, and that he might go down with a ship, but he never really thought for one moment it would ever be a possibility.

  "Left, left here!"

  Taylor followed Lang, took the bend, and found a Mech facing the way they were heading. He didn't even hesitate to fire a burst into its back without breaking stride. The Mech's body splashed into the water as he passed by.

  "How many of those fuckers did you have aboard?" Silva asked.

  Lang didn't respond. He was clearly feeling more than a little sheepish that he'd been a part of it all. They reached a stairway, and water was already flowing down at quite a rate.

  "How do we even know we're still on the surface?"

  Taylor didn't reply to Parker’s question; he had no good answer. Instead, he leapt onto the stairs and stormed up them. He made it up two flights before looking back to Lang.

  "How much further?"

  "Not far now. The escape pods are just around the corner."r />
  Taylor carried on as Lang pointed the way to go. A few bodies swept past them as the water levels were reaching their knees. Debris crashed into his boots and greaves. They took the bend and were met by a line of shuttle doors, each a metre wide.

  "No, no!" cried Lang.

  Each one of the doors had a thick glass window at the centre and was full with water where the pods had been launched. Every single one was gone.

  "Lang, are these the only ones we can use?"

  Lang collapsed down onto his knees weeping, but Taylor hauled him back to his feet.

  "Concentrate, Sergeant!"

  He shook his head. "None that we can reach quickly."

  Taylor looked around to the others. They were all waiting for him to come up with a solution.

  "I'm not going down with this ship," he stated, "How deep do you reckon we are?"

  Jones shrugged. "How the hell can we tell?"

  "We haven't been here long. There’s still plenty of air and structural integrity from what I've seen."

  "Now you're just living on hopes and prays," Rains joined in.

  "Yeah, well what else do we have? Ain't no one coming to our rescue. Seal your helmets. We're going for a swim."

  Parker shook her head.

  "Even if we have got enough air, we open that, and the pressure could kill us instantly."

  "And we stay in here, we're dead anyway. I'll take my chances out there. Masks down!"

  They quickly responded as he raised his rifle to take aim at one of the pod doors. A second later, he fired a burst at two of the clamps. The door prised open and was launched off its frame by the forces of water gushing in. Taylor turned and looked to Parker; the water had reached his waist. It was their best chance, and they both knew it, but that didn't make it any less terrifying.

  They all watched and waited as the water rose up to their masks and then above the doorway. Taylor did not say a word as he activated his boosters and pushed off for the exit. He knew the others would follow without a command. He could not see a thing through the water and only continued to drive upwards, using his arms to swim a little faster. A display light flashed inside his helmet, and he knew exactly what it meant; he was running out of air.

  The water was getting lighter and clearer, and suddenly he burst out onto the surface. The warm rays of the sun sitting high in the sky met him. He clicked back the mask on his helmet and breathed in the air with relief; his comrades arose beside him. Parker appeared just a few metres away and swam over to him, wrapping her arms around him.

  "We did it!"

  "Yeah, we're alive, but for how long?" he said, looking out around them.

  Debris lay scattered across the ocean, and they looked up at dozens of alien ships entering the atmosphere overhead.

  "Not again, how can this happen again?" pleaded Eli.

  "Erdogan, that bastard. We will never know peace while he still draws breath."

  Chapter 2

  Taylor was looking at the Mappad on his arm, which told him they were a little over a thousand klicks from the Florida coastline.

  Believe it when I see it, he thought.

  Mitch hadn't been stateside in a long while now, and last time he had, it hardly felt like home. He looked up to see his comrades looked as weary as he did. More than twenty of them were sitting atop one of the many pieces of debris from the Nassau. It looked like one of the double skinned interior walls and at least had good buoyancy.

  "Reckon anyone is coming for us, Mitch?" asked Parker.

  It was the question on everyone's mind.

  "I've tried every channel I can, can't reach a soul."

  "Can't be easy to miss a battleship plummeting to Earth," Eddie grinned.

  "On any other day you'd be right. But today, who's counting how many ships have entered the atmosphere? It's chaos everywhere."

  "Well, you're a beacon of hope."

  As Parker said it, they heard a roar of engines in the sky and looked up half expecting to see Mech forces descending upon them. Taylor lifted his hand to shield his eyes from the sun's rays and squinted to make them out. He stood up and gripped his rifle with his other hand, but he quickly recognised they were not of alien construction. One of the ships descended to just two metres above the water, and a lower hull door opened, revealing Captain King in the entrance.

  "Looks like you need a ride?"

  Taylor couldn't believe their luck, though he knew deep down it wasn't luck at all. He had good people he could depend on.

  "Your timing is impeccable."

  "Well whatta ya know, takes the Rangers to save leathernecks from the wet stuff. Don't ever think you'll be living this one down."

  Taylor smiled in response and could not help but take it in good spirits, after having been left adrift on the ocean. He looked around to at King's other ships hauling crew from the water. He took a running jump and leapt up into the doorway with the Captain.

  "What are your orders, Colonel?" he asked.

  He looked overhead to see three huge enemy craft looming over them and heading west for the east coast of the United States. He looked back across the open ocean to the east and thought of the friends they had left there, but he knew what he had to do.

  "Too long have we fought on foreign soil; good old US of A needs us, whether she knows it or not. Set a course for Quantico. We're heading home."

  "Quantico?" King asked.

  "Last I knew it's where General White was. We ain't exactly on best terms, but he's as good as any place to start. Contact them once we're en route to alert them of our arrival."

  "Comms are jammed. We've got a few klicks range and that's about all."

  "Well that's fucking great. Nice to know some things never change."

  As Sergeant Lang came aboard, King looked out at the other crew of the Nassau still lying stranded at sea in life pods and various other pieces of debris.

  "What about them? We can't take many more."

  Taylor looked out and could see a ship's silhouette in the distance.

  "Make a fly past of whatever that vessel is, and alert them to the crewmembers that need recovering."

  "And if they don't want to get involved? Can't even see if it's one of ours from here, could just as well be civilian."

  "I don't give a shit who it is. There are people in the water who need help, and they're gonna give it."

  Two hours later the coast of America was in sight. Taylor knew he should be glad to see it, but he wasn't. In the distance to the south, he could see enemy vessels over Norfolk and a similar sight over New Jersey to the north.

  "What do we do?" asked King.

  They were standing in the cockpit with the pilot and co-pilot, astonished by what they were seeing and looking for direction.

  "Continue as planned. There'll be whole divisions slugging it out down there. We've done enough for now."

  "Enough?" King asked, "Hardly looks like it."

  "Today the war became an entirely different animal, one we are all familiar with though. We need to get back to whoever is in command around here, and work out what the hell is going on and what we can do."

  As they approached Quantico, a warning light flashed, and the pilot quickly piped up.

  "We've just been locked by local air defences."

  A transmission came in as they closed in to comms distance.

  "Identify yourselves immediately, or you will be fired upon."

  The pilot gave his credentials, and the line went silent.

  "Hold position and await further communication. Do not enter Quantico air space until advised."

  Taylor tapped the pilot's shoulder as he went to respond and stepped up to take over.

  "Negative. This is Colonel Mitch Taylor of the Inter-Allied Regiment. We need immediate permission to land, do you hear me?"

  There was silence once again for a moment and then a response.

  "Negative, hold position and await instructions."

  "We're coming in whether you like i
t or not. We have hundreds of US troops and allies aboard, and we ARE coming in."

  Taylor gestured for the pilot to do as such, but he was frozen solid.

  "Take us in," Taylor clarified.

  The officer shook his head. "They'll shoot us out of the sky."

  "Not a chance, trust me. Now do it."

  He did as ordered, but his hands were shaking a little at the prospect of being blasted out of the sky by their own side. They began to surge forward, and the base was in sight now. They could see gun towers tracking their movement and missile silos with doors wide open.

  "Sure about this?" King asked him.

  "Not really," he whispered, "but we either go forward and risk being shot down, or go back where we'll definitely be fired upon."

  "Rock and a hard place, then."

  "Alter course immediately, or you will be fired upon!"

  Nobody responded, so Taylor had to.

  "This is Colonel Mitch Taylor. Get me General White immediately. The General will clear us to land."

  "Hold your current position to confirm."

  "That's a negative. We're coming in. If you can't confirm we are friendlies, that's your problem. We've just fought through hell to get back here, and I won't wait another minute to get down on the ground. If you want to be responsible for the deaths of hundreds of Americans and our allies, you pull the trigger. Otherwise, stand down and get the General on the line."

  The comms went silent as they passed over the air space of Quantico, and they could see a few of the gun towers tracking their position. They were waiting for them to open fire at any moment when finally General White appeared on the screen before them.

  "Taylor? That you?"

  "Yes, Sir."

  "What the hell are you doing, and where the hell have you been? Get your ass on the ground now!"

  Taylor smiled. "Just what we've been trying to do, General."

  "Well do it quicker."

  The transmission ended, and finally a voice came over the comms once again and said sternly, "You are cleared to land at sector 19F."

  "And you couldn't have just waited for that?" the pilot asked Taylor, "We could have had our butts blown out the sky there."