by Jay Allan
“You’re doing great, Emily,” Wickes said, his voice as soothing as he could manage with adrenalin coursing through his veins. He tied off the cloth with a knot and took a breath. Then he sliced another section from the jacket.
“Okay, Emily. Almost done. I’ve got you bandaged up…now I’ve just got to get this tourniquet above the wound…to stop the bleeding. I gotta get it tight, so I’m going to have Bilby hold you down. You follow me?”
She stared back, her face hair soaked with sweat. “Yeah, Cap,” she said miserably.
Wickes nodded moving his hand slowly, sliding the cloth to the top of her thigh. He wrapped it around three times, and then he looped the two ends around, tying a knot. “Okay, Emily…this is it…the last part. I need you to be tough for me.” He turned his eyes toward Bilby, and the message they held was clear. This is going to be bad…
Bilby moved forward, putting his arms around Lees’ torso. He gripped her hard, looking back and nodding to Wickes as he locked his hands behind her.
Wickes returned the gesture. Then he took a deep breath and pulled the strips of cloth. Tight.
Lees howled loudly, tears streaming down her face. But Bilby was more than half again her weight, and he held her in place as Wickes pulled hard, and tied the makeshift tourniquet off.
“Okay, Emily…it’s done.” She looked barely conscious as she stared back up at him. Her hair was matted against the side of her head, and her face was wet with tears. Her eyes were dull and sad. But she managed to return his gaze and say, “Thanks, Cap.”
“Okay,” he replied with a thin smile. He was pretty sure the round had missed her femoral artery, and even with all the bleeding he figured she’d make it. If they got her to the safe house soon. He knew she couldn’t have much left in her. None of them did.
He aimed the flashlight at the wall of the tunnel, looking for faded signage or some clue as to where they were. Then he caught it in the corner of his eye, stepping forward to get a better look. It was an old station just ahead, and a wall of broken tile, half the dark pieces that had been formed into words gone. But there was some left, enough.
“Yankee Stadium,” he whispered under his breath. And then louder, “We’re almost there.”
“Alright, Jack,” he said to Bilby. “You help Lees.”
The big man nodded. “I got her, Cap.”
“You good, Carson?”
“Yeah, Cap. I’m fine.”
“Alright then…let’s get the hell out of here.”
It’s time. I’m sick of crawling around like a rat. I’m ready to strike again.
Chapter 11
Colonel John MacArthur to Black Lightning Squadron:
Don’t let the guys in the ground batteries have all the fun, boys. We’ve got Dragonfires, the enemy’s got Dragonfires. Let’s show them the difference between veteran pilots fighting for freedom and a bunch of rookies, enslaved and struggling to keep themselves in bondage. Never forget that justice is on our side, and the future of mankind rides on our victory. On me, men, follow…straight up the center. And the crew who takes down the most enemies gets a barrel of beer to celebrate, courtesy of General Taylor. On me!
“All batteries, keep firing.” Taylor issued the command, barely listening as his aide repeated it into the communications unit. The general, the man who was the architect of all that had now begun, stood rigidly in the middle of his headquarters, watching on the display as the AOL’s forces engaged the UNGov airships all around the army’s perimeter.
“And tell General Young to get down to the supply dump…we need to get ammo moving to those ground units faster.” The Tegeri-built vehicles had an awesome rate of fire, and they were death itself to the enemy air squadrons. But they were ripping through rounds as fast as Taylor’s people could get resupply to them. Faster. Even now, there were units cutting back on their fire, guns laying idle in the middle of the battle for lack of ammunition.
At least we’ve got the ammo, even if we’re short of transports to move it up to the front quickly enough.
It was a strange difference from the parsimony Taylor had been forced to employ for most of the last four years, but the Tegeri had provided him with enough ordnance to supply his army for months, and he’d be damned if he’d trade lives to save ammo, as he’d been forced to do so many times before.
“Yes, General!” The officer’s voice was sharp, filled with reverent respect for the army’s commander.
Taylor suppressed a sigh. If only they knew the burden their adoration has become…
The AOL’s commander mourned for every soldier he lost, but there was a difference between those fighting at his side for freedom…and the thousands he knew had made him the focus of their loyalty, who were out there dying for him. He found that upsetting, the cult of personality that took his crushing responsibilities and made them ever heavier. Taylor was as determined as ever to see quest fulfilled and Earth freed from tyranny. But there was a thought, deep in his mind…an uncertainty. Taylor would do anything to see his army to victory, but there was part of him at least, that wasn’t sure he wanted to survive the battle.
It had taken more than a day for UNGov to send a follow up mission to search for the downed scout flyer…twenty-six hours Taylor’s people had put to good use, twenty-six hours during which Hank Daniels had not moved from his position at the center of the activity. As far as Taylor had heard, Daniels had not departed from his post long enough to eat, to drink, to go to the bathroom. He suspected that was a slight exaggeration. Taylor was a veteran warrior, and he knew it was of such tales that legends were made. But he knew Hank Daniels too, and he suspected the embellished stories were not all that far from the truth.
Whatever Daniels had done, he’d certainly pushed the technicians beyond even Taylor’s wildest expectations. By the time a new flight of UNGov scouts arrived, there were a dozen ground craft active…and a full squadron of Dragonfires under MacArthur. The battle lasted only a few minutes…and Taylor was stunned at the effectiveness of his Tegeri-provided anti-air batteries. By the time the Dragonfires were engaged there was nothing left but a couple damaged craft…and MacArthur and his people made short work of those.
But UNGov had been more careful this time. MacArthur’s airships picked up another UNGov squadron, one positioned two hundred kilometers behind the first one…and by the time his forces pursued, the enemy flyers had already made a run for it. The AOL’s air commander had pushed his craft to the limits, and he’d almost caught up with the enemy. He’d even taken two of their ships down as they fled. But the rest got away, broadcasting a warning that the Army of Liberation was back on Earth.
The response had come quickly, as Taylor knew it would, and now UNGov was throwing every air asset it could muster against the AOL’s still deploying forces. Taylor understood. He would have done the same thing. If they could pen in his forces, push them back against the Portal, they would have the war half won. Taylor knew there was one thing he could never allow himself to forget…UNGov could replace its losses. His people could not.
The battle had gone well so far. MacArthur had lost one of his Dragonfires, but the crew managed to bring their damaged bird down with only a single fatality. The early word was 50/50 the craft could be repaired and return to duty. Some of the other airships had also taken damage, but they were all still in the fight.
The UNGov forces had lost over a dozen flyers, mostly to the deadly ground batteries. Their formations were scattered and disordered, and MacArthur’s outnumbered birds were taking full advantage, weaving around and gaining advantageous position. Still, Taylor knew numbers would begin to tell soon. MacArthur would lose more ships…and if the enemy got past them…
“Get me a com link with Colonel MacArthur’s ships, Lieutenant.” Taylor stared at the displays, his eyes darting from the location of the air battle back a few kilometers to the workshops and supply dumps of the army. He didn’t have a doubt the UNGov forces had been ordered to bomb and strafe his support pos
itions. It was the obvious strategy. His people had just come through, and a Portal crossing was a difficult enterprise for a large force, necessitating considerable reassembly of equipment to bring an army back to combat readiness. His ground forces were mostly there, at least the 40,000 or so who’d come through so far. But MacArthur only had a third of the army’s Dragonfires in the air, and even with the withering fire of the ground batteries, it was only the greater skill and experience of the pilots holding back the enemy.
“You are connected, sir.”
“This is General Taylor, men. I have watched with great amazement as you have met the enemy…and sent so many of them crashing to the cold ground. I can only wish I was up there, beside you all, striking the first blow for freedom. But alas, I am not, so all I can do is thank each of you…and remind you that we are all counting on you to hold back the enemy as long as possible, to keep them from breaking through and bombing our supply depots, destroying the rest of the Dragonfires on the ground, before they are even uncrated and assembled. We are all there with you, men, in spirit if not body, and I urge you forward, to give all you have, to meet the enemy and hold them back, despite the numbers. You make my heart swell with pride, my brave warriors.”
Taylor cut the channel…there was a fine line between boosting morale and distracting men in battle. He felt a wave of guilt, as he always did after addressing the soldiers. He’d meant everything he’d said, and he knew his words would drive them on. But it felt like manipulation too, like he was pulling on puppet strings, pushing his people to fight more fiercely, to take greater and greater chances lest they let him down. He tried to push back on the feeling, but he knew in his heart that men would die because of his speech, that they would throw themselves into the maelstrom, rallied by their commander’s urgings…and ignoring all caution.
But that is war, Jake…it is what you signed on for when you launched this crusade. It is your soldiers’ lot to throw themselves on the enemy, to die by the thousands if need be to gain the victory.
And it is your part to carry the burden…and endure the guilt for all of it.
Chapter 12
Alexi Drogov’s Speech to Shadow Company Recruits:
You have been selected to join this company because you are among the most experienced operatives and security officers in UNGov service. You have, in all cases, displayed the resolve and the ruthlessness necessary to maintain our form of government and to suppress pointless and destructive dissent among the population. But that is no less than the duty of any member of UNGov. You have all displayed more. An understanding of loyalty, a willingness to do whatever must be done…to place the successful completion of a mission above all things. You have all shown an ability to cast aside petty moral concerns and to focus on the larger goal of preserving and defending our noble experiment in world government.
We face a crisis now, one we could not have imagined even a few years ago, a threat rising not from the streets, not from the lower classes or those clamoring for liberties they would only abuse if they had them. No, nothing so simple, so easy to face. We are threatened by a force of soldiers from our noble planetary armies, seasoned veterans, trained killers armed with the most advanced weaponry known to our science. These traitors have aligned themselves with our enemies, the murderous Tegeri, and even now they have returned to Earth through a previously undiscovered Portal. They seek nothing less than the destruction of UNGov, to establish themselves and their tyrant commander as the government of Earth.
You shall serve to prevent this. You will infiltrate the enemy positions. You will assassinate their officers and commanders. You will show no mercy, no hesitancy to do what it needed. It is imperative that we cast a light on the atrocities these invaders commit as they advance. Where such cannot be obtain, you will create incidents. If you must terminate a group of civilians so the invaders can be blamed for it, so be it. Nothing is more important than victory. Our comrades in the field armies will face this enemy frontally, seeking to destroy them in battle. But you will be behind the lines, damaging the enemy, causing disorder in their ranks.
You all understand the ways of UNGov, and our commitment to reward those who devote themselves to the prosperity and preservation of our great government. Those of you who serve well will see advancement, wealth, power. You will be recognized as heroes by a grateful world.
And those who do not serve well, who lack the strength, the determination, the courage for this great fight…they will die, likely at the hands of the bloodthirsty enemy. And if not by the foe, then by me. I am Alexi Drogov, and I have been doing the dirty work to make UNGov prosper since before most of you were born. If you fail me, if you betray me, I promise you, the last thing you will see is my eyes, staring into yours as the light of your life drains away.
“My fellow citizens, it is with the most profound regret and revulsion that I must address you this evening. There are some things that have happened that are so terrible, so utterly horrific, that I could not allow you to hear of them through a normal newscast. No, it is my responsibility to announce this nightmare…and to speak to each of you, to ask for your support and courage as we face this challenge together.”
Samovich stood behind the lectern, the same one he’d used days before, when he’d addressed the world about the Resistance terrorist attacks. Now he was back again, and determined to deliver a performance that put that one to shame.
“Your brave soldiers, those who stand in the breech and hold off the alien menace, have achieved victory on over a dozen Portal worlds, driving the Tegeri and their murderous Machines back…back to whatever hellish world bred them. Yet there is no joy in this announcement, no call for parades and joyous celebrations. For, instead of victorious soldiers returning to the appreciation of a grateful world, on this day the Portals shimmer as something very different returns.”
He paused, knowing the screens of a billion displays had just cut to scenes of flag-draped coffins, hundreds of them, thousands, streaming through the Portals, while military bands stood by, playing a mournful accompaniment.
“On each of these worlds, a force more terrible even than the Tegeri, blacker, more fearsome, has descended. For from the Portal world of Erastus has risen a rebellion, an army of human soldiers—human monsters—who have joined the enemy, sworn their loyalty to bloodthirsty aliens over their fellow soldiers, over the Earth and its legitimate government…over all of you.”
Samovich took a deep breath, carefully modulating between outrage and sadness as he spoke. “Using the Tegeri knowledge of the Portals they fell upon the human armies there, the ruthless aliens stepping aside while these traitors attacked without warning. They massacred our soldiers, fell on them with all manner of dread weapons given to them by the Tegeri. They refused all attempts to negotiate…and they continued their attacks until they had slain all before them. And then they moved on, along with their alien allies.”
He looked down at the lectern, pausing for the twelve seconds he had deemed the optimum time. He knew the shot on the screens of his viewers had cut back to him and that it was now going back to the scene of coffins being carried through the Portal. And pulling back, he knew, to show the images of civilians crying, mostly women—mothers and wives he suspected those watching would assume…wrongly. Now that is efficiency, he thought to himself…recycling video of the families of reeducation camp victims to put some power behind his propaganda. He knew there was a particular scene coming any second, a woman who looked like everyone’s idea of a grandmother, doubling over in near-hysteria. He remembered it because he had picked it out himself from the library of selections. It would serve well…
“More than twenty-thousand dead,” he said softly. “Murdered not by an alien enemy but by human traitors, creatures so utterly detestable, words do them no justice.” He paused again. He preferred speaking to live crowds—actually he’d rather avoid most people altogether, but it was easier to read reactions from an audience right there, to adjust tone and pa
cing to maximize the manipulation. Still, he was confident his address was having the desired effect…and now he was going to drop the real bomb on them all. And if everything went well, he would turn the people of Earth into one massive force of partisans, fighting in the streets to preserve UNGov.
“And this is not the worst of it, my fellow citizens. No, not even close. These traitors are not content with murdering other soldiers…now they have returned to Earth, through a previously undiscovered Portal. Even now they have begun their march, across the snowy steppes of eastern Russia, bringing death and destruction with them every step they take.
“They have come to conquer, to destroy…as the advance guard for their Tegeri allies. They are well armed and equipped, and they bring death to all who stand in their way. Already, I have dispatched our air forces to meet them, all the flyers that could be put into the sky. Our brave pilots and crews will fight them…indeed even as I speak the battle rages. And while our brave air forces battle in the skies above, all the troops we were able to raise are moving even now, on their way to face this enemy…and to destroy them utterly.”
Samovich paused again, letting the angry rage of his last comments fade into a more somber tone. “Yet our brave soldiers need your help, all of you. UNGov does not field great armies, not on Earth. We do not rule by coercion, as the nation-states that preceded us did. We field no massive conscript forces, numbering in the millions and equipped with weapons of mass destruction. No…instead, our ranks are filled with civilian security forces, police trained to protect and serve civilians…and trainees originally bound for the planetary armies. They will fight bravely…they will fight for all of you. But I must ask that all of you fight for them as well. If elements of this army of traitors get past our brave soldiers, it is every citizen’s duty to scorn them, to strike against them in any way possible, with sticks and stones if necessary. For have no doubt…these monsters will burn your cities, and rape and pillage their way across our beloved world.”
