“This is Eiserner Gott. I recommend caution. We’re doing too much, too fast. My assessment is the Waffen SS are after the same goals as us.”
Ray spoke immediately afterward.
“I agree with Eiserner Gott. The situation is too fluid, and we’re spread too thinly. What if…”
“Understood,” said Weathers, “Please continue with your operations. We cannot stop now. If the SS want a fight, then they’ve come to the right place. We’ll take back the Bronx once and for all, no matter what it takes. Like I said, we’ll fight them wherever we find them.”
Marcus snorted, and he gave the nod to Karl. The mighty machine slowed, and then stopped in the middle of the street. The distance to the massive underpass was short, but even from this far away he could make out SS vehicles mingled with civilian cars and trucks.
Smart. Use the threat of collateral damage to keep us from using our heavy weaponry.
The column of Maquis was now far away, heading towards the distant underpass. Marcus wanted to follow them, but he was very aware of the threat from the stadium to his left. The massive machine twisted around to face north, and each gunner tracked their weapons back and forth, searching for signs of the SS. Simultaneously, Weathers and his fighters swarmed around the underpass. More men were pouring in from positions to the north and east. Marcus counted more than fifteen cars and trucks, and even a cursory calculation showed at least fifty veteran soldiers down there.
He made sure they were alert. “Keep your eyes wide open. I don’t like this.”
They came to a halt, and though stationary, the whining motors and heavy diesel engines made it impossible to hide the noise of the great metal beast. One by one the Maquis vehicles disgorged their lightly equipped fighters, some carrying rifles, and others heavier weaponry. Marcus continued to shake his head.
“This doesn’t look right. They think they’re…”
Before he could say more, a volley of shots cut down into their position. The gunfire was light, but more than enough to scatter the groups of American fighters. Marcus pulled the intercom unit down and gave the order to Karl.
“Move in closer, but not too close.”
The massive machine began to move closer to the fighting, but after just four strides, a single wire-guided missile hurtled down.
“Countermeasures!” he bellowed.
The order was unnecessary, Hans was already there. The onboard systems activated, showering the approaching warhead, which he knew, carried explosive shards. Dozens of pinpoints of light betrayed the hidden positions of snipers and soldiers deployed along the stadium’s south side. He grabbed for the radio.
“This is Eiserner Gott. Under heavy fire from the stadium.”
More rockets screamed towards them, and the defensive fire from the countermeasures activated four times more. Some bullets glanced off the armour, but so far nothing hit them that threatened the integrity of the hull. It couldn’t last.
“We’ve taken enough of this shit. Gunners, weapons free!”
The top-mounted turret shuddered as its pair of guns opened fire. The high-explosive shells crashed into the stadium and blew out chunks of masonry. Then the machine guns joined in. The two batteries showered the stonework with bullets, killing or pinning down any standing their ground. A high-velocity round raced out from a window and struck the landship’s shoulder, exploding in a cloud of sparks.
“What was that?” Marcus yelled.
Eiserner Gott staggered backwards, and then righted itself amid the fury of shots. Soldiers raced out from hidden positions, firing as they ran. Some carried rifles, but most were armed with heavy weaponry, especially the fearsome Panzerfaust anti-tank rocket launchers. One after another they rained fire down on the landship and quickly overwhelmed the countermeasure suite.
“Kapitän!” Torsten Urs said, “They moving closer.”
“Drive them back. Form testudo!”
Karl hit the engine controls and twisted them about so that the front of the machine faced off towards the threat. Dougal Leary swung the slate armour around to protect the chest and waist of the machine. The machine dropped down onto its haunches, hiding the greater part of the legs and turning Eiserner Gott into something more closely resembling a pillbox. The two banks of machine guns opened up, doing their terrible work. One after the other the SS were cut down, yet still they surged forward. Rockets screamed towards the landship, with more than half detonating uselessly against the slats. Marcus spotted two men carrying metallic donating charges and pointed at them.
“Drive them all back! Use everything you have!”
Streaks of fire from the top-mounted rocket platform flamed and tore into the enemy. Panzerfausts were designed for use against armour and made terrible work of the armoured SS men. Immediately after the impacts a massive denotation shook the ground violently. When the dust cleared, there was no sign of the SS, just a smoking crater, and a burnt and blackened hole in the ground.
“We’re pinned down,” Weathers called in over the unit channel, “SS infantry have entrenched on the upper levels across to the east. I’m trying to move in and clear them out, but I can see two more units moving in to assist them. We need help…now!”
Marcus could just make out the underpass, and he stared into the distance, gauging the extent of the battle. He could pick out gun flashes as soldiers from both sides fought furiously. Another rocket came in close and struck the ground, showering stone chips against the thick plating of the landship’s armour. The explosion had obliterated his view, and worse followed when the gunfire warning activated. His heart lurched. The alarm announced the firing of high-velocity guns such as those weapons fitted to heavy tanks and landships.
“Mein Gott!”
“I see them!” Hans shouted, “Two Tigers, moving in from the main entrance!”
Marcus shifted his view to the right, where a covered entrance jutted out onto the wide-open plaza, the place where Reich limousines usually stopped to drop off or pick up dignitaries. The two vehicles that had appeared weren’t limos. Two of the fearsome heavy tanks had appeared, and both had their powerful main guns pointed directly at them.
“Strafe and fire!”
Karl had anticipated the order, and he moved the controls to shift the weight of the landship. At the same time the gunners opened up with their main weapons. The top-mounted howitzers flung high-explosive shells at the tanks while the arm-mounted guns began their terrible work.
“We are in the stairwells!” Weathers shouted over the radio, “Moving to the next level.”
A shell bounced off the shoulder of the landship, and as they moved left, the two tanks reversed back into cover. It was then they could see the Reich soldiers had sunk pits into the plaza to create perfect firing positions. As they returned fire, more rockets hammered down from the stadium building.
“This is not the raid we were told about,” Marcus said, “We need to withdraw and regroup. The SS are here in strength. They can easily defend this area…”
He stopped as a series of explosions ripped down the street. Three vehicles disintegrated instantly, scattering their burning remains across the rubble-strewn sidewalks. Several of Weathers’ soldiers vanished in the inferno. Marcus kept looking around, seeking new targets and new threats. He gasped when he sighted a number of aircraft sweeping in low from the south. The Messerschmitt BO 87s landed with surprising speed, and dozens of heavily equipped infantry leapt out. An even bigger aircraft flew above them, the dreaded Arado E.580 Blitz II. Unlike the smaller tiltrotor Messerschmitt, the Arado was a powerful, jet-powered flying wing. Small warheads fell and landed in the street.
“Bombs!”
The threat was immediate. For a ship’s captain, the sight of aircraft was often the last thing a crew ever saw.
“Get up and move…quickly!”
The heavy machine lifted from its beetle-like stance and moved closer to Weathers’ position. At that moment, a series of bombs struck the ground. One by one they e
xploded in a storm of flame and flying debris, leaving a smokescreen for the newly arrived SS infantry to advance behind. Guns clattered away, while rockets slammed all around them. Marcus wanted to stay and fight, but he was also well aware that Weathers and the others were now surrounded at the underpass. He reached for the intercom just as a tank shell slammed into the machine’s torso, ripping away chunks of armour, and forcing Eiserner Gott to stagger back three steps.
“We should never have come,” said Torsten Urs.
Marcus nodded in agreement as he reached for the intercom.
“This is Kapitän Klenner. The SS are here in massive numbers. They have tanks, infantry, and air-mobile ground forces. This mission is over. We’re pulling out.”
“Say again,” said the distant voice from Manhattan Command.
Marcus pulled the microphone closer to his mouth and amplified his voice to a roar.
“I’ll say it one last time. This mission is screwed. The SS knew we were coming. It’s a damn trap!”
* * *
Grand Concourse, Bronx, New York
Isaac brought them to a halt beside the panel van, whose driver was looking for directions. They could hear the echo of gunfire and artillery not far away. The wide street was empty apart from a few abandoned vehicles. Not a soul in sight, after everyone fled for cover. Nobody could blame them.
“Take this!” said the front passenger, tossing a box of MG3 ammunition to Lisa, and quickly following it with another.
“What do we do now?” asked the driver.
“We’ve been away long enough. It’s time to get into the action, whatever this is!”
Ray smacked his hand twice on the roof of the cab, a signal for Isaac to go on.
“Shouldn’t we at least check what we are running into?” Lisa asked, handing him the ammunition. He began loading the twin guns.
“We know our people need us, isn’t that enough? You can hear it out there, it’s a war zone.”
“You’re saying Claremont was just a ruse to draw us away?”
He didn’t reply, but the look in his eyes told the whole story. That was precisely what he was thinking, and he was angry for not seeing through the deception. They’d been played, and he was kicking himself for falling for it. Ray locked the upper receiver down over the second belt and primed both weapons. Gunfire was growing louder as they drew nearer. The heavy guns of Eiserner Gott thundered in their fury, echoing through the streets, but so did other heavy weapons.
“They can’t be ours. Only Eiserner can make that much noise,” said Lisa.
Ray’s face was still grim. The extent of what they might have to face had just dawned on him. A high-explosive shell crashed into a building fifty metres ahead, forcing them to duck down for cover. The blast blew out the front of the structure, and debris crashed down to the ground, some of it coming near, but not a single vehicle slowed. They felt the truck jolt, and the front wheels flew up in the air, followed by the rear as they smashed into and over a slab of concrete in the middle of the road. Ray and Lisa bounced up in the air, holding onto one another and the side of the truck bed to save themselves from being thrown out.
They burst into an inferno of smoke and flames. A vast battle was underway in the open ground outside Yankee Stadium. SS troops were everywhere, and rebels fought desperately to hold them off. Eiserner Gott was slugging it out with several tanks, and others were in flames.
“Look!” Lisa cried.
His attention was drawn to the overturned wreck of an SS armoured truck. Weathers and a handful of his men were sheltering behind it, while the bodies of their comrades lay scattered all around. They were firing back at the enemy with everything they had, but they couldn’t hold back the surging tide of the SS storm.
Ray gave the order and aimed the machine guns. “Give ‘em hell!”
He directed his fire on a squad of SS storming across the open street. The two MG3s burst into life and flung dozens of rounds into the flanks of the thickly armoured troops. Many bullets bounced and ricocheted from their heavy armour, but plenty found their mark, as the bursts of fire peppered the bodies of the SS troops. Many fell as the bullets slashed into their legs, and the weight of fire knocked several troopers over even when they didn’t penetrate. Six fell to the ground, and the rest ran for cover in the face of the brutal onslaught. The two machine guns were rapidly joined by fire from the rest of the recently arrived rebels.
The hail of gunfire was brutal and completely blunted the assault towards Weathers’ stricken position. One SS soldier rose from cover to take aim at Ray, but he gave them both barrels. Twenty shots in the face, and not even the armour could stop so many rounds. Ray didn’t stop there. He pivoted the weapon around and opened fire on another two squads of enemy soldiers that were advancing across the open street. His rounds ripped through many, and explosions rang out from grenades landing among them. He fired and kept firing until the magazines were empty and smoke rose from the barrels. He grabbed his rifle and leapt off the truck. But he didn’t move back, not one step. He rushed towards the enemy.
“Come on!”
His seemingly fearless assault spurred on many to follow him and rush out from the cover of their vehicles. Two rebels were cut down by automatic gunfire, but many more reached Ray’s position with Lisa at their head. She smashed into the side of a wrecked truck while Ray peered around for a better view. Gunshots struck the tailgate. She pulled him back in just as one punched through the bodywork of the vehicle where his head had been.
“Thanks.”
“You gotta be more careful.”
He noted the genuine concern in her eyes.
“There is a time for being careful, and it ain’t now.” He propped his rifle against the truck and took out two grenades. He pulled the pins and tossed them over the stricken vehicle towards the sounds of the enemy guns. It was hard to miss. He picked up his rifle and waited for the explosion.
“What’re you gonna do?”
He didn’t say a word, not even checking to see what damage had been done. He let out a bellowing war cry and charged out from cover. He was firing as he was moving, emptying his weapon into an SS Stoßtruppe. The first few rounds knocked the man back, hitting him in the neck. Blood spewed out, and he tumbled to the ground. It appeared the enemy hadn’t even spotted him yet. He took aim at the back one of their legs and shot out the kneecaps. The man dropped in agony, but his mask muffled his screams. Ray was on top of him in no time and stamped down onto the mask twice. He couldn’t break through, but his neck snapped on the second blow.
Lisa’s grease gun rang out in Ray’s right ear as she opened fire beside him. The .45 rounds were almost deafening when fired at such a close-range. They were also a relief to hear, and others soon joined in. Someone threw a grenade past them, and it landed between two Stoßtruppen. The charge ignited before they could get any rounds off, blowing them off their feet. One crashed into a burnt out car, and the other tumbled onto the tarmac. Screams rang out as flames from a flamethrower burst out across the open road ahead, engulfing four rebels. The jets of flame soared out thirty metres. A rebel rushed to help someone who hit by the horrifying weapon, but the poor soul went up in flames and ran off screaming. Ray took aim at the fleeing man and fired a single shot into the back of his head.
“What have you done?” Lisa gasped in horror.
“The one thing that was merciful.” He watched the flames stretch out and hit the overturned truck Weathers and his team were using for cover. He lifted his rifle and aimed at the trooper with the flamethrower. Bullets were bouncing from his armour, but he went about his gruesome work without anything stopping him. Ray took his time to aim carefully. As the Stoßtruppen soldier turned to burn a new target, he held his breath, steadied his rifle, and squeezed the trigger.
The shot hit the valve on the armoured fuel tank on the man’s back. Fuel spewed out and covered him. He turned in a panic, reaching around to stop it, but the fuel hit the igniting flame at the end of the ba
rrel of his weapon. It went up in a ball of fire. Ray lowered his rifle, satisfied with his work.
“No mercy for him?”
“Some don’t deserve it.”
He thought back to all the friends he’d lost in London, and the bitter treatment they had been handed down by the Germans.
I don’t feel bad about it, not a single bit.
Gunfire still raged all around. Two rounds hit the ground nearby and brought him back to reality. He rushed into the cover of a badly damaged SS assault craft. He was looking around for what resources he had left to throw at the enemy when he spotted Mickey and Zoey. They stepped into plain sight, each holding a Panzerfaust, and fired them almost villainously. The projectiles soared past Ray’s position a few metres in front of his face. He grabbed Lisa and pulled her back into cover. The explosions rang out, momentarily knocking out his hearing.
“Goddamn it!” he said, leaping up excitedly. Over the wreckage he watched the Stoßtruppen in full retreat. Several Albatross transports were lifting off the ground, and others were escaping on foot. Machine gun fire raked an aircraft that was just lifting off. Seconds later a Panzerfaust rocket hit the cockpit. The front of the craft was blown off, and it crashed back down to the ground. The surviving Stoßtruppen troopers poured out, but were met with a brutal salvo that cut many down. No more than a handful managed to escape.
“Woohoo!” Mickey yelled.
Cheers and whistles echoed about the open street as the fires still raged, but Ray surveyed the scene, and there seemed little to celebrate. There were more of their dead than of the enemy. A bloody battlefield, and numbers the Maquis could not afford to lose. Shots still rang out, but the SS troops were in full retreat.
“Ray!” a panicked voice called out.
It was Woody. He was beside the upturned vehicle Weathers had been using for cover. Ray rushed to his side. There were bodies strewn around, and Weathers was on the ground coughing up blood. A man was desperately trying to apply pressure on a chest wound.
“No,” Lisa muttered under her breath and ran to his side.
Soldiers of Tomorrow: The Winter War Page 3
