“Fools, arrogant fools,” said Ray.
“Why?”
“Because if they had any clue what they were doing, they’d have closed this area off and locked it down.”
“Well, it’s just as well they haven’t, then?” Lisa asked.
“Sure,” he replied.
He sighed, and his expression became a frown.
“What is it?”
“Just that Weathers could have got himself out by now if he’d wanted to. He’s made his point.”
“He wants the people to rise up, a revolt,” Charlie said excitedly.
“If that happened now, there would be a blood bath. What do you think the population of this city could do against the SS troops, the ORPOs, the walkers?”
“We have numbers on our side.”
“Yeah? And I can tell you just how that would go. Shoot a few hundred or thousand civilians, and the rest will give up. Nobody wants to be first in when the bullets start to fly.”
“You are wrong. Weathers does.”
“Yeah, more’s the pity. He might be a fool, but he is a brave fool.”
“What do we do?”
“We have to get in there, Lisa, and there’s only one thing to do.”
He lifted his rifle and pulled back the charging handle.
“All right, let’s whack these fuckers.”
Ray gave Charlie a scornful look. He’d likely never had to shoot anyone before, let alone kill them.
“Stay calm, stay out of my line of fire, and pick your targets carefully, you got it?”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” he replied, lifting his M14 rifle in readiness.
Three cruisers were parked at the side entrance to the park, with six ORPOs. They were sitting back against their cars for protection from those inside the library. Their weapons were either propped against the vehicles or resting in their laps, meaning they didn’t perceive a threat from anyone other than those defending the library.
“You ready for this, Lisa?”
She gritted her teeth, and that was acknowledgement enough.
“We should let Weathers know we’re coming in,” whispered Charlie.
“Not yet, not until we have a clear run. Ready? Three, two…”
He stepped out from the alley and raised his rifle. He squeezed off two rounds at a seated ORPO. They hadn’t even spotted him. The man died instantly, but Ray turned his gun on a second before they could raise their weapons. A burst of automatic fire rang out from beside him; the familiar ring of the slow but steady grease gun. Lisa emptied a magazine into the side of a cruiser. Six of her rounds met their targets, the others ripped through the doors and windows of the car. But her rounds did the trick.
The other two were on their feet and lifting their guns. Several others at their backs rushed in and opened fire. On was cut down and the other just about managed to reach the other side of his cruiser, taking a shot to the shoulder and left arm as he did. He threw his pistol up over the hood of his car and fired randomly, but a hail of gunfire caused him to pull his hand back. Ray watched five of his team rush to encircle the car as if to lynch the ORPO with gleeful abandon. The muzzles of their guns flashed as they emptied a dozen shots into the man before falling silent.
By the looks on their faces, they were more shocked by their own actions than Ray was having watching them. They looked appalled at what they had done.
“Get me Weathers, right away!” Ray yelled to Charlie.
He noticed a glimmer of movement back towards the main road leading to the entrance of the library and could see Stoßtruppen moving in.
“Shit, get down!”
They leapt amongst the cars and bodies of the ORPOs. Charlie was already talking with Woody, and Ray heard gunfire ringing out both in the distance and through the headset Charlie was wearing. He reached forward and pulled it off his head. Charlie was being fobbed off.
“This is Ray. We’re coming in through the back entrance, you hear?”
“Ray? What the hell are you doing here?”
“Saving your ass! Don’t fire, damn you!”
He peered around the corner. Two of the soldiers were heading their way and showing interest.
“Come on, we gotta move!”
He jumped out from cover and sprinted up the steps and towards the rear entrance. A few ORPOs lay dead on the path in, but he couldn’t afford to hesitate. He ran and hoped their own people didn’t fire on them. In no time at all he was at the doors and banging on them violently.
“Open the doors!” he screamed.
He banged on them once more, and just as he did the one door was flung open, and Woody was standing before him.
“Come on, get inside.”
They rushed in, glad of the shelter, but Ray knew well enough they had just jumped from the pan and into the fire.
“Have you seen it out there?”
“Sure, what do you think we have been doing? What are you even doing here? The boss told you to stay put.”
“Yeah? And was it his plan to get you all killed?”
“If that is what it takes.”
“What? Can you even hear yourself?”
“You were told to stay put.”
“Yeah, well, tough shit.”
An explosion ripped through the building, and a dust cloud spread out around them. Ray rushed towards the source before any of them could stop him. A breach was opening at the front doors. Three armoured Stoßtruppen soldiers were already through, and several rebels were on the ground. Two looked like they were dead, and others were trying to get back to their feet. One woman tried to haul a wounded man back behind the cover of a column.
“Down!” he yelled.
The woman dropped. He raised his rifle and fired a burst at the first of the enemy. The first few rounds bounced right off, but he fired another. One went through the eye socket, and the metal clad soldier smashed down to the floor. He turned to another and opened fire. Through weight of fire the man was knocked back, and further automatic fire from Lisa was enough to knock his weapon from his hands. The third opened fire, and Ray ducked back for cover. As he did, he noticed a young woman who had come with him was riddled with bullets.
Woody and Lisa returned fire, and with two full magazines, he was hit enough times in openings in his armour that he went down. The one who had been disarmed had drawn a pistol and was returning fire. More were pouring in through the entrance. Gunfire rang out above them. Weathers and five others poured fire down into the doorway, cutting several of the enemy down. One man beside the rebel leader was strafed by automatic fire, forcing them to retreat into cover. Another rested an MG3 onto a balcony above and rained fire onto the enemy.
The armoured Stoßtruppen kept coming, even though the weight of fire from the Buzzsaw like machine gun rattled off everything it had to give. Two were killed, but they kept on advancing, and the MG3 jammed. As the gunner tried to free up the weapon, he was riddled with bullets. Weathers appeared at the balcony once again with a panzerfaust in hand.
“Oh, shit, move!” Ray shouted.
They ran back for cover, bullets landing everywhere around them. Two more rebels were cut down, and Lisa was clipped in the left arm and leg. She landed on Ray’s shoulder, and he pulled her into cover. The anti-tank weapon was fired, and the charge erupted behind them. Debris blasted past them, the sound deafening. Ray’s ears were ringing, but he propped Lisa against the column, and looked down to the scene of carnage at the entrance to the grandiose library that was now in tatters.
At least six enemy soldiers lay dead, and rubble filled up the doorway where one door had been blown from its hinges. Weathers had already cast the weapon aside and was reaching for another.
“We can’t stay here!”
Weathers didn’t look surprised to see him. He had entirely focused on the fight at hand, as if obsessed.
“You do what you got to do, but this is a fight I will not back down from.”
“Then you’ll die here, and your death w
ill be meaningless! You have already made your point. It’s clear for all to see. You have bloodied their noses, so let’s get the hell out of here, so we can live to fight another day!”
Weathers seemed to be considering it, but before he could make a decision, the wall beside him was ripped from the building. The floor beneath him gave way. He and four others fell, crashing down to the ground floor into a heap of rubble. The breach was huge and gave a clear view into the street outside. Dozens of Stoßtruppen were advancing to make their assault. Gunfire and tracer was already pouring in. Ray tried to move forward to help their leader, but he was forced back into cover.
He peered back around to see if Weathers was still alive and breathing, but he couldn’t even reach a weapon.
“Go!” he roared.
“No!” Mickey yelled in a panic as he tried to push past.
Ray grabbed him and hauled him back into cover.
“Get off me!” he screamed.
“Go on! Get out, and spread the word of what happened here!” Weathers shouted.
Ray looked out again. A soldier struck Weathers with the butt of his rifle and knocked him out cold. The rebels were returning fire, but Ray saw another get struck in the head as they desperately tried to fight off the relentless assault.
“We have to go!”
He looked to Woody for support, knowing the rest of them would listen to him.
“You heard Weathers. He told us to go!”
Woody gritted his teeth in disappointment, but he had no option but to agree.
“All right, let’s go!”
They let out bursts of gunfire, and four of the rebels kept their posts to cover their retreat. Ray noticed one of them was Charlie.
“Come on!”
Over the sound of the gunfire he couldn’t be heard.
A shot zipped past Ray’s face. It was so close he felt it singe the skin. He had to move. At last, Charlie noticed them moving, and Ray shouted back, “Come on!”
His voice still did not carry far, but his words were clear. Charlie rushed towards him, but he barely made a few paces when a charge blew off to his side. He was thrown out into the debris of the lobby. Ray took a single step towards him to help but was met with a hail of gunfire, and Woody hauled him back into safety.
They ran on, but two more were struck in the back. Ray and Woody helped Lisa with an arm over each of their shoulders. They burst from the back entrance of the library. Gunfire rang out as those at the front engaged the few enemy still there. Lisa was trailing blood as they rushed through the park.
“We have to go back!” Mickey begged.
But nobody listened.
“Didn’t you hear what I said?”
“We heard you, but anyone who goes back there will die.”
Ray looked about. Just eleven had made it out, two of which were wounded.
“We owe it to my father,” insisted Mickey.
“What we owe him is to keep on going.”
Mickey looked furious, and he turned as if to go back, but Ray reached out with his free hand and hauled him onwards.
“He’s not dead, and if there is any way we can get him back, I promise you we’ll do it.”
That was enough to get Mickey on side, but Ray instantly regretted saying it. It would be a near impossible promise to keep. As they reached the end of the park, and the exit furthest from the library, an ORPO cruiser pulled up to block their path. Ray shrugged Lisa off, lifted his rifle, and emptied it into the driver through the windshield. The rest of them finished his partner. The display was brutal but necessary, and they gave their victims a cursory glance as they went past and kept on running. They rushed into a small side street and came across an abandoned panel van. Its doors were open, and whoever once owned it must have fled for cover.
“Inside, let’s go!”
They leapt inside, and Ray got into the driver’s seat. The keys were missing, but he ripped out the ignition, and hotwired it as if he had done it a hundred times before. The van fired into life. He put his foot down, and they burst out onto the main road, heading North, away from it all. He brought their speed down below the legal limit so as not to attract attention, and in no time at all they were passing ORPOs oblivious to their identity.
* * *
New York Reichsbibliothek, 476 5th Ave, Manhattan, New York
17th November 2017
Kriminaldirektor Mattias leant again the front panel of his Mercedes-Benz 800 staff car. A big machine, in gleaming black, with long running boards and whitewall tires that could easily have been from the fifties. One of the rare, full-size luxury cars imported from the European mainland, and designated for use by senior Reich officials. Small Nazi pennants hung from the front of the hood, serving as an important reminder as to whose vehicle it was. From the outside it might appear antiquated, but it was built to last, and to protect those inside. Its powerful eight-litre engine, armour plated floor, and layered glass windows made it one of the safest vehicles in the American Union.
The sun was already beginning to rise, and dull yellow light flickered through the gaps in the buildings. He reached for his pocket and removed his cigarettes. One of his comrades dressed in civilian clothes, but wearing a black fedora and covered in a long brown trench coat, looked to him.
“Cigarettes, Herr Kriminaldirektor?”
Mattias smiled as he took a puff.
“Yes, cigarettes. When in Rome…This is the Union, not the Greater Reich. Rules are different out here.”
A loud boom echoed from the library building, and each watched it with interest. Dust filled the sky, making it almost impossible to see what was happening. There were shapes nearby, but Mattias paid them no attention. He was a man used to ruling through fear and intimidation. A few panicking civilians, or even fleeing terrorists meant little to him. He took another puff and then handed the cigarette to his comrade. The man hesitated, and then took it.
“These Americans think they can do what the British failed to do. Without the support of the general population, they are wasting their time.”
A rocket whistled overhead and crashed into a distant building.
“See that? What will the locals think when a terrorist rocket destroys their homes? Assuming they live to tell the tale.”
He smiled, and then watched as the Waffen SS swarmed around and inside the structure. He could already see them bringing out prisoners.
“Reichskommissar Wilson wants to put on a major show of force and unity for the arrival of the Deputy Führer. And he has chosen Manhattan to showcase this. We have our own orders though, do we not?”
The two men looked back to him, unflinching and unmoving. They were all technically men of the Gestapo, and the Sicherheitspolizei. But they were also senior SS men, and answered a much high authority than any of the American commands. Mattias moved to the car’s still open door. He paused and looked back to the library.
“Assuming Standartenführer Müller survives this engagement, bring him to me. He may be more useful than expected. Perhaps on this occasion his records are not entirely accurate.”
CHAPTER NINE
Rebel Base, Bowery Bay, New York
18th November 2017
Woody was attending to Lisa’s wounds. She was sitting up, and although wincing in pain, she’d had a lucky escape and had superficial wounds. Everyone was quiet, taking in everything that had happened. They were all covered in dust, some of them in blood as well. Everybody looked lost, as though they had suffered a total defeat.
“What the hell happened out there?” Ray asked angrily.
It wasn’t a friendly tone, but an angry one, and targeted at Woody as the most senior one among them, and the second-in-command during Weathers’ operation at the New York Public Library.
“Hey, what the hell were you all playing at?”
“We were sticking to the mission.”
“Nobody said anything about a suicide mission. How much do you think you are going to achieve if you throw you
r lives away before you’ve seriously started? Do you want to achieve something or do you just want to be remembered as martyrs? Because I can fucking guarantee you won’t be remembered as anything at all at this rate.”
No one had an answer for him, so he went on.
“If you expect me to risk my life for this, I want some answers!” he demanded.
“We didn’t expect to be hit so hard and so fast,” said Mickey.
“Didn’t expect? What did you think, that the SS would simply let you occupy part of Manhattan? This isn’t fun and games. This is an insurgency, a war. And every authority on this Earth knows that such an insurgency needs to be rooted out at its core. When you give them a target to aim for, they will come for you with everything they have, and they will not stop until we’re all dead.”
“What do you suggest, that we do nothing?”
“No, Woody, just that we be a little bit smart about this. That we slow things down and plan things better.”
“Trust me, we did, but things happened so quickly. This was supposed to just be the beginning.”
Ray squinted. There was more to what Woody was saying than he had been led to believe.
“There is more to this than you are telling me, isn’t there?”
He looked at Lisa with concern as if he had been caught.
“It’s all right. You can tell him. It’s not as if things can get any worse, and he has proven he’s on our side.”
Ray at least appreciated her kind words.
“Tell me what?”
“What we have been working on all this time.”
“The operation at the library, that was supposed to just be a stunt to spread the word,” said Lisa.
“In preparation for what?”
“For our own machines to take the fight to the enemy,” Mickey said proudly.
“Machines? What machines?”
Once again Woody looked to Lisa as if for guidance.
“Go on, show him.”
“Follow me.”
He led Ray through one of the tunnels, and Mickey followed them like an excited puppy. They went on through several bends and turns. They reached a security door that was completely out of place for their location. It looked like an industrial grade security door with a keypad access. Woody punched in the code, the door jolted ajar, and he pushed on through. They went a few metres when the sewer corridor opened up. Sparks flashed ahead of them. Someone was using power tools to cut and grind at something metallic. It was as though they had stepped into an industrial machine shop.
Soldiers of Tomorrow: Iron Legions Page 14
