A Savage War Of Peace (Ark Royal Book 5)

by Christopher Nuttall

  We might be about to find out the hard way that we’re wrong, he thought, as a nasty thought struck him. Penny had said she’d be heading to City Seven, hadn't she? What if they do have something that can shoot us down? The Russians might have left something behind.

  He pushed the thought to the back of his mind as the helicopter lurched into the air. There was no choice. If the diplomats failed, they couldn't let humans be killed.

  Of course not, he thought, crudely. It would set a very bad example.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “I haven’t been able to contact anyone from City Seven,” Grace said, as Joelle hurried into the communications centre. “They’re not answering our calls.”

  Joelle swore. Giving radio to the Vesy - or at least a handful of radio sets linked to the planetary communications net - had been a gamble. The upside of being able to talk to the city’s leadership as quickly as possible was balanced by the grim awareness that other human powers would be able to radio to the Vesy themselves. But the radios had clearly failed in their overall function, at least if they couldn't raise anyone in the city. Maybe the aliens had suspected them of being rigged, in some unimaginable manner, to spy on them.

  Which we considered before deciding it would come back to haunt us, she thought. In hindsight, that might have been a mistake. It wasn't as if the Vesy had any way to locate a bug that happened to be far too small for anyone to see with the naked eye. We might have a better idea of what was going on if we spied on them.

  She shook her head. “What is the current situation?”

  “The team have made their way into an alien building and are trying to stay ahead of the mob,” Mortimer said. He tapped the scene in front of him, showing the live feed from the orbiting recon satellites. “The Royal Marines are inbound; ETA nineteen minutes, but they have orders to hold off unless a diplomatic solution cannot be worked out.”

  Joelle bit her lip. “It looks as though we cannot talk to anyone,” she said, grimly. The display was showing an angry mob clustered around the building, some carrying out dead bodies. They all seemed to be Vesy, so far. “Can the Royal Marines get them out?”

  “I’m not sure,” Mortimer admitted. “The current plan seems to be to simply pick the team off the roof, then get back into the air. But they may have something that can impede the helicopters as they approach.”

  “Shit,” Joelle said. They had an agreement ... which was, in the end, nothing more than ink on paper. Besides, the Russians might have let some heavy weapons slip into alien hands before their base was overwhelmed. “We can't hold off, can we?”

  Mortimer never took his eyes off the display. “No, Ambassador,” he said. “The longer we delay, the greater the chance they will run out of ammunition and be overwhelmed. They may be held as hostages ... or they may simply be killed on sight.”

  Joelle groaned. “What caused this?”

  “Unknown,” Mortimer said. “The crowd simply went mad.”

  “We’ll figure it out later,” Joelle said. It was a catch-22 situation. If the British public had been shocked to hear about the live sacrifice, they’d be horrified to learn that British citizens had been torn apart by alien mobs ... or that British troops, in the hopes of escaping the mob, had killed dozens of aliens. “Tell Colonel Boone that we have been unable to make contact with the local leadership” - which might be lying low until the shit stops flying around, she thought darkly - “and that he is to do whatever he feels necessary to get our people out of there.”

  She sat down, knowing she might well have destroyed her career. There would be detailed media reports whining about human and alien casualties, questions in parliament and threats of inquiries in Geneva. The PM held a majority, but he wasn't invulnerable. Throwing Joelle under the bus might seem the best solution to a short-term problem. It was tempting to equivocate until the matter was taken out of her hands, yet she knew better. The buck stopped with her.

  Grace stared at her. “There will be ... be people killed.”

  “Yes,” Joelle said. “I know.”

  ***

  “You are cleared to intervene,” Colonel Boone said. “Weapons free; I say again, weapons free.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Percy said.

  He contemplated the tactical situation, checking the constant stream of updates from the orbital network. There was no point in trying to land and fight their way through the city, not when it would have been needlessly costly. The simplest solution was the one that had occurred to him as soon as he’d taken his first look; land on the roof, pick up the trapped humans and then beat a hasty retreat. It held risk - the aliens might have something that could bring down the helicopters - but less so than trying to batter their way through the city.

  “I have two platoons getting kitted out now with full combat armour,” Boone added. “They’ll be on their way shortly.”

  “Understood, sir,” Percy said. The QRF hadn't been wearing more than light armour, if only because no one would have been able to endure heavy armour for long. An oversight, clearly. “Can they be held in reserve?”

  There was a pause. “I’ll order them to hold at Point Delta,” Boone said. “But you may need them sooner.”

  Percy nodded, wordlessly. The Paras were tough - he ought to know; they’d spent the last month training with them, when they hadn't been on patrol - but they would take far too long to get ready to move. Besides, having a couple of extra helicopters wouldn't make much difference. As much as he hated to admit it, it was better to risk a handful of marines immediately than bring in a small army within the hour.

  “Thank you, sir,” Percy said. “We’re moving now.”

  The connection broke. Percy keyed a switch, then hastily outlined his plan. There were no objections, merely a handful of suggestions. Percy took note of them, updated the plan and finally muttered a series of orders to the pilots. They were both experienced men, having flown missions for the Paras and SAS in the past. They'd carry out the mission or die trying.

  The Vesy don’t think in three dimensions, he reminded himself. It had taken him time, on Salisbury Plain, to learn to appreciate the danger posed by aircraft ... or drones so stealthy that it was impossible to see or hear them, before they dropped a missile on an unwary soldier’s head. They won't be expecting us to drop out of the sky.

  “Sergeant, cover us as we go in,” he ordered. City Seven - the name translated to something along the lines of ‘Home of the Flowery Heart’ - was coming into view, a towering mass of stone buildings surrounded by fields and a solid wall. “We are weapons free; I say again, we are weapons free.”

  And that lets us shoot at any threats we see, without restraint, he thought, grimly. One way or another, they were about to go down in the history books. God help us.

  He gritted his teeth, then glanced at his men. They looked quietly confident, like the professionals they were.

  “Take us in,” he ordered.

  ***

  “Get up the next flight of stairs,” Hamish ordered, as he carried Kun away from the previous stairwell. “Hurry!”

  Penny nodded, then ran up the stairs. The aliens had put a lot of effort into the building, she was sure, but she couldn't figure out what it was for. All, but one of the rooms had earthen floors ... which was understandable on the ground floor, yet perplexing on the upper levels. It was almost as if the aliens had wanted to grow something inside, but there was hardly any light. What came through the slatted windows was barely enough to satisfy mustard and cress.

  Hamish followed her up, holding Kun effortlessly with one hand and carrying a small pistol in the other. No threats materialised at the top, so he relaxed slightly and looked around, concerned. Penny saw the worry on his face and understood; hell, she shared it. The whole complex simply didn't make any sense.

  Or maybe we’re just missing the key to unlock the mystery, she thought, as she sagged against the stone wall. If the Vesy had been human, she would have unhesitatingly said that the carvi
ngs were intended to be erotic. Maybe they were and she was looking at the alien version of the Kama Sutra. Or ... she shook her head, wishing that Professor Nordstrom had accompanied them. He might have understood what they were seeing.

  The remainder of the Paras rushed up the stairs, one of them unhooking a grenade from his belt and tossing it down towards the aliens. There was another explosion, oddly muffled, followed by howls and screams. Penny gritted her teeth, unwilling to look down and see what the blast had done to the aliens. Really, it was strange just how hesitant the aliens were about simply running up the stairs. Maybe their mobs were more rational than their human counterparts, or maybe there was something about the building that made them reluctant to charge in and to hell with however many were killed. She looked around again, feeling an unwelcome suspicion blossoming through her mind. The earthen floors looked patted down, but there were places where she could imagine someone had dug ...

  She glanced at the Paras, holding position near the stairwell, then knelt down and started to dig into the ground. Hamish gave her an odd look, but said nothing as she plunged her fingers into the earth. She hadn't realised just how deep the earth was, even though they’d run up the stairs; she mentally kicked herself, then kept digging. The earth was changing constituency with remarkable speed ...

  And then she touched something that felt hard and yet slimy.

  Hastily, she pulled back the dirt, feeling her eyes go wide with horror as she realised what she was seeing. It was an egg, only far - far - larger than any of the eggs she’d eaten as a child; indeed, it was roughly the size of a newborn child. She touched it gingerly and realised that, although the shell was really quite hard, it was trembling slightly, like the beating of a tiny heart.

  “This is a birthing centre,” she said, in awe. She’d known the aliens were egg-layers, but she’d never considered the implications. “This is where they bring their eggs to hatch.”

  “Shit,” Hamish said.

  It took Penny a moment to understand the implications. God alone knew how the aliens regarded children - the Tadpoles might not have cared if humans had fished their young out of the water, then eaten them with chips and mushy peas - but humans wouldn't have warm feelings towards anyone who decided to turn a nursery into a battlefield. The aliens had held back because they’d been scared of harming the eggs, just as humans might hesitate if children were under threat. Quickly, she returned the egg to the soil and covered it up, then looked at the ground. There could be hundreds of eggs, buried just below the soil.

  “We just got word from the head sheds,” another Para said. “We have to get up to the roof.”

  “Understood,” Hamish said. He glowered at Kun’s stunned head, then nodded once to Penny. “Follow me up to the top.”

  Penny nodded and did as she was told. Behind her, she heard several gunshots as the aliens started pushing back up the stairs. Now they knew what they knew, it was clear the aliens were definitely holding back. She fought down the urge to run faster as they reached another floor, then another. Their walls, too, were dotted in the same elaborate carvings. No matter how many times she looked at them, she couldn't escape the impression that they were designed to instruct Vesy in how to have sex.

  But sex cannot be a learned behaviour, she thought, puzzling over the question to keep from fretting over the very near future. How would we have survived if we had to be taught how to have sex?

  The warm air struck her as soon as she reached the rooftop, warm and moist and promising a thunderstorm. Down below, she could hear chanting as more and more aliens joined the mob outside the building, while others were climbing up other buildings, carrying bows and spears as they moved. She had barely a moment to realise that one of the aliens was actually taking aim at her before a spear flashed past her and fell over the other side of the building.

  “Keep your head down,” Hamish snapped. Kun moaned, uncomfortably. “Keep your head down and wait.”

  Penny nodded, feeling her body start to shake. She'd held herself together when they’d been running up the stairs, but now? They were trapped, unable to hold out forever, and when they were captured ... she grasped the pistol and held it, tightly. Perhaps Hamish was right, after all, and she should save one final round for herself ...

  ... And then she heard the chatter of helicopter blades.

  ***

  “There she blows, sir,” the pilot said.

  Percy nodded, grimly, as the alien buildings came into view. It was easy, thanks to the transponders, to tell which one held the humans, but the surrounding buildings were lined with aliens, all carrying primitive weapons. A handful even carried human weapons, although he couldn't tell if they were British, Russian or Indian. They seemed to be staring at the chopper in disbelief, as if their minds refused to accept that something like it could actually fly. But that would change ...

  He cursed as he saw the aliens scrambling up the walls of the target building. He’d been taught how to climb seemingly-impassable surfaces in basic training; the aliens, it seemed, had much the same training themselves. Judging from the reports, all they’d need to do was get onto the roof to take the humans from the rear. It couldn't be allowed.

  “Warn them off,” he ordered. He had the legal authority to engage the climbers, but he would prefer to avoid additional casualties. “As loud as you can.”

  The pilot keyed the mike. “WE ARE TAKING OUR PEOPLE,” he said. The racket was so deafeningly loud that several of the climbing aliens lost their grip and fell towards the ground, far below. “LET US DEPART IN PEACE AND NO ONE WILL BE HARMED ...”

  An arrow hit the side of the helicopter and splintered. Moments later, alarms sounded as bullets started pinging off the aircraft’s armour. Percy wasn't too worried - the helicopter had been designed with tougher enemies in mind - but the prospect of a lucky hit grew more and more acute with every second. He pushed his concerns aside as the helicopter moved closer, bullets still slamming into the hull. It wasn't going to end well when they opened the hatches ...

  “Target the gunmen and return fire,” he ordered. “Take them out.”

  “Yes, sir,” the pilot said. He tapped a switch and the helicopter’s machine guns opened fire, vaporising their targets. Some of the aliens scattered; others, more disciplined, held their positions and kept firing until they too were picked off. The weight of incoming fire slacked noticeably. “Targets destroyed.”

  “Take us down,” Percy ordered. He keyed his radio. “Sergeant, provide covering fire.”

  His heartbeat started to race as the helicopter plunged towards the rooftop, creating a whole new problem. Could the building take the weight? He had no way of knowing. The pilot held the craft just above the roof, then fired two more bursts towards a set of aliens who had been scrambling back into firing position. Moments later, the hatch slammed open.

  “Go, go, go,” Percy snapped, leading the way out of the craft. The roof hatch was just in front of him, according to the reports. “Move it!”

  He reached the hatch and peered down into the darkness. A Para - carrying a man slung over his shoulder - peered up at him, then practically jumped up onto the roof. Behind him, Penny followed, looking completely terrified and yet grimly determined. Percy thought, suddenly, of their mother, then caught her arm and shoved her towards the helicopter. There was another hail of gunfire from the aliens and Penny dropped to the ground. For a horrified moment, Percy thought she’d been hit, then realised she’d dropped down when she’d heard the firing. He scooped her up, practically threw her into the helicopter, then waved up the remaining Paras. They tossed grenades back down the stairs to cover their retreat as they reached the rooftop.

  “Get into the helicopter,” Percy snapped. “Hurry.”

  Two aliens appeared on a nearby rooftop, carrying something that looked alarmingly like a small rocket launcher. Percy didn't hesitate; he unslung his rifle and fired two rounds towards them, forcing the aliens to duck. He didn't expect to hit anything, not w
ithout taking proper aim, but it should teach them to be more careful. One of them dropped the launcher and it exploded, blowing both aliens off the roof.

  The last of the Paras passed him as explosions shook the building. Percy cursed again as he realised the helicopter was cramped, then motioned for three of his men to get inside. He slammed the hatch closed as soon as they were in the craft, then jumped onto the skids and held onto the handles for dear life. The pilot yanked the craft into the air as Percy secured himself to the hull with one hand, heading up and away from the city. Percy forced himself to look down as the city fell away beneath him, a handful of rounds passing the craft before they were safely out of range. He’d ridden on the outer hull before, in training exercises, but it had always given him the willies.

  Next time, bring a bigger helicopter, he told himself. He would have laughed, if he hadn't been clinging to the side of the aircraft. They hadn't had any time for proper planning and preparation. Given how little warning they’d had, they’d done remarkably well to get in, complete the mission and get out before it was too late. Or maybe I should have brought fewer men.