Soldiers of Tomorrow: Iron Legions

by Michael G. Thomas

  “I don’t know, but we’ll find a way. We have to.”

  Ray gritted his teeth. The tone of all around them was as cold as the icy wind. People were keeping their heads down, avoiding contact with not just the ORPOs, but each other as well. “Look at them.”

  “The look of a defeated people, I can see that, Ray.”

  “And these are the people you want to rise up against the Reich? Weathers was living in a dream world.”

  “There is strength left on these streets. You shouldn’t underestimate them. All they need is a glimmer of hope. Something to hang onto.”

  “I am not sure what there is left to hang onto, Lisa.”

  “There is always hope, you must know that better than anyone.”

  “Maybe it is quite the opposite. I think my hope was crushed a long time ago. This all seemed like a pipe dream, the chance of the rebellion to rise once more, and it’s been put down like it was nothing. London was a battle. This was nothing more than a slaughter.”

  Lisa realised they were starting to attract the attention of an ORPO across the street.

  “Come on, we can’t stand idle.”

  She tugged on his arm and pulled him into motion. They walked for many blocks, and it was no better wherever they went. They turned and weaved through different streets to avoid several checkpoints, eventually stepping into a bakery. The woman behind the counter smiled and gestured for them to carry on behind the counter. They passed through several rooms of industrial baking equipment, and the smell of freshly baked bread was a relief at least.

  “You know what that is, that smell?”

  She had no idea.

  “The smell of freedom. I’d have given anything to experience that when I was behind bars.”

  “But we aren’t exactly free.”

  “You’ve got it better than most, trust me.”

  Ray passed through another door. He found an anxious and jittery Woody drawing his gun. He stopped when he realised who it was. The survivors who Ray had led out of Bowery Bay were gathered around. Their faces were pale and sad, the tone in the room was one of desperation and sadness, and Ray could understand why.

  “It’s getting worse out there,” said Lisa.

  “Yes, with the assault on the library, and the parade coming up, they have full rein and reason to do whatever the hell they want, and they sure are exerting that power.”

  “What resources do we have left?”

  Woody sighed. It wasn’t going to be good news.

  “Ninety percent of our people are dead, captured or unaccounted for. We’ve lost most of our weapon stashes, and the Militant programme is done for, as you well know. What we have left is what we have here, and a few others out getting what information and weapons they can.”

  “This is what it has come to? After all my father worked for, and everything he gave up.”

  “We have all given just as much, Mickey. Let’s just make sure it wasn’t for nothing,” replied Woody.

  “What was it for? We don’t have the resources to fight back,” said Ray.

  “I still believe in Weathers’ vision. I also believe the people can fight if they are just given a chance.”

  “Yeah? And what about our chance? What about us?”

  “A major act of defiance could still turn the tide, but…”

  “But what?” Ray interrupted.

  “We can’t do anything while those walkers prowl the streets. We cannot fight them, not in open battle.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “That we hit them when they aren’t active. We hit them, Lisa, when they can’t fight back, and we sabotage those machines just like they did to ours.”

  “Mark,” Ray said with a scathing tone.

  “What about him?”

  “Woody, I saw him scurrying away as the enemy was approaching.”

  “We all ran,” said Lisa.

  “Yeah, but he ran towards the enemy, not away from them. I saw the look on his face. He wasn’t scared that they were approaching. He was scared that he might be found out.”

  “Found out for what?”

  “I saw him for what he was. It was in his eyes, in his sweaty face, and the way he ran away like the traitor that he was. He must have been the one to sabotage the Militants.”

  “But…” Woody began, stopping himself as it all began to click together in his head.

  “O’Neil’s, the broken down van, the sabotage, them knowing we were at Bowery Bay.”

  “Surely not?”

  “He’s right, isn’t he?” Mickey asked.

  Woody didn’t want to accept it, but knew at the back of his mind that it was true.

  “Bastard, I’ll rip is heart out when I find him!”

  Mickey was pacing back and forth angrily.

  “Enough, let’s focus on the task at hand. He’ll get what’s coming to him if we ever get our hands on him, but right now we have bigger concerns,” said Ray.

  “A mole amongst us? I’d say that’s a pretty fucking massive concern. It’s why we are here today. You’ve seen what it has cost us.”

  “Nobody here works for the enemy, Woody,” insisted Lisa.

  “And how could you possibly know that?”

  “Because nobody would be stupid enough to hang around anymore. There aren’t enough of us to even matter now,” said Mickey.

  “You’re wrong. We are still here, and we are still gonna fight.”

  “Fight? And how will we do that, Woody?” Ray asked.

  “We hit them when they are weak, and they are least expecting it. We take out their strongest assets in one night attack.”

  “Against what?”

  “Against the machines, before they can become active. We hit the Kriegsmarine Kampfläuferdepot tonight, and we destroy them all before they can be sent out into the streets once more.”

  Ray couldn’t believe it.

  “Are you insane?”

  “Possibly, but we are all out of options. There are people depending on us, people who need us. Nothing short of a miracle is going to turn things around.”

  “And you think you can deliver that miracle?”

  “I think we can do the next best thing. We can deliver a crippling blow to those machines, and give this rebellion a fighting chance.”

  “What rebellion?” Ray pointed around the room, “This is all that is left!”

  “But more will come. There are thousands more than willing to support our cause. Tens of thousands, and millions that believe in what we are doing and would harbour us, and help us. Weathers was right about that, and so were you. We must have the support of the people, and they need to know that their faith is well founded. We have to show them that we can make a difference, and so can they.”

  Ray was pacing back and forth shaking his head. He couldn’t believe he had gotten himself in so deep.

  “We need you, Ray, more than ever. Weathers knew it, and so do I,” added Woody.

  He looked to Lisa. She would be the one who could make or break his decision, but there was not a seed of doubt in her eyes.

  “Please Ray,” she said.

  He smiled in response, knowing he couldn’t say no. He turned back to Woody and the others.

  “This is a suicide mission, you know that right?”

  “Possibly, but it is a risk worth taking, and the only way we are gonna have a fighting chance. So what’ll it be, Ray?”

  “What the hell, it’s not like I got any other place to be.”

  Woody appreciated the sentiment, but they were all too dulled by their experience in Bowery Bay to celebrate.

  “When do we do this?”

  “No time like the present. A couple more hours and the streets will quieten down. We hit the Kampfläuferdepot about 4am. That’s when the guard is at its weakest.”

  He was pointing to a dusty and crinkled old paper map spread out on the table.

  “Take some rest, and have your gear ready to move. Get some food in you. You’ll need
all the energy you can get tonight.”

  The group scattered. A few left the room and others began gathering ammunition and cleaning their weapons.

  “You really think this can work?” Ray asked.

  “Wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t. You know as well as I do our time here is limited, before the SS find us. It seems like there is no place to hide anymore.”

  “Until you take back the streets, there won’t be. The average men and women have to want to repel the Reich, and do everything in their power to push back against them. The ORPOs have to be terrified to enter our neighbourhoods, and the SS officers must fear walking the streets. Until that time comes, they will own this place, and they’ll rule it with an iron fist.”

  “Trust me, I know.”

  “No, you don’t know. You haven’t seen how bad it can get, not even close. When the streets are reduced to rubble, and the people who lived and worked in them are tortured and killed for doing nothing, but trying to get on with their lives. You think this has been bad, you ain’t seen nothing yet!”

  “Then help us change that.”

  “You say it like I have all the answers. We lost in London, and don’t you ever forget it.”

  “But there was hope, wasn’t there? You knew it was worth fighting for.”

  “I was on the right side, sure, but I’m not sure there was ever any hope.”

  “There always is. There has to be,” added Lisa.

  “The Nazis have won many battles, but they are yet to win the war.”

  “You sure about that?” Ray asked him, “They rule this country however the hell they want to.”

  “And yet others oppose them. The Nazi regime still fights across the world. The Russians and Chinese continue to oppose them.”

  “Rumours, maybe they do, maybe they don’t. We have no idea, the way the Reich controls the media.”

  “Of course war still rages. The Reich would long have dispelled those rumours if it were not.”

  “We can hope.”

  “Of course, that is what we have to cling on to, and as long as we do, there is a chance of getting our country back. Or do you still doubt there is any chance of victory?”

  “I gave up hope of victory a long time ago, but a chance to stand up in defiance of the Reich, I will take that, even if it kills me.”

  He picked up a box of ammunition and began to load his magazines in readiness. The hours soon passed, and they were once more working their way through the unlit side streets and alleyways of the city. Eighteen of them, it seemed like far too little, but they had the element of surprise on their side and had to rely on that. It was the only real asset they had.

  “You think we can do this, right?” Lisa asked.

  Ray shook his head.

  “Nope, but we don’t have a choice, do we?”

  They rushed from street to street. At one point they stopped when they heard screaming. Ray and Woody looked around a street corner. An SS officer and several ORPOs were kicking a man on the ground. They both knew he’d likely die at their hands, and yet there was nothing they could do. They moved off in the opposite direction to avoid the trouble altogether.

  “Makes me sick, to think we can’t stand up for our own people like that,” said Woody.

  “That time may come, if we can get through this.”

  “I didn’t come here to die. I believe in this cause, but I don’t want to die for it.”

  “I don’t think anyone does.”

  “Even Weathers? You seemed pretty convinced he did.”

  “I was wrong about him. His heart is in this one hundred percent, and that might get him killed, but not because he wants it to.”

  “Do you still think there is a chance for him?”

  “If we can pull this off, and if we can pull off a few more miracles, then just maybe.”

  “We never stood much of a chance, did we?”

  “No, Woody, but that is what rebellions are built on. We have to dream of a better world, even if it seems almost unobtainable.”

  “That’s pretty poetic,” said Lisa.

  “You spend enough time on Rikers, and you’ll find some poetry of your own.”

  They stopped when the edge of the Kampfläuferdepot at last came into sight. They had come out beside a chain link fence on a quiet part of the facility.

  “This is it,” said Woody.

  They took a knee and carefully surveyed the scene.

  “You sure you want to do this?”

  “There’s nothing left for us but this. We either make a stand here, or we flee from this great city, never to return.”

  “You can still lay down arms and go about your lives. It’s not too late.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “The Reich doesn’t know your names or faces, Lisa.”

  “Except if you’re right about Mark, they could already know everything,” replied Woody.

  Ray sighed. He had forgotten about that.

  “If we don’t fight, Weathers and the rest of them will be executed, and it will all be over. If we are not willing to fight, how can we expect anyone else to?”

  “This doesn’t need to all fall on us, though.”

  “Yes, it does. We have the means, the will, and the ability to fight, and more than anything, this is our city. My city, and I am willing to fight for it…”

  He stopped as he noticed a flashlight, and they ducked back into cover. Ray peered around the corner. Two armed guards were doing a routine patrol. Their rifles were slung on their backs as if they perceived no threat, and they were talking to one another quite casually.

  “You still sure?” Ray whispered to Woody.

  They all knew that this was the tipping point.

  “All or nothing, let’s do this.”

  They waited patiently and silently in the shadows as the two guards went past, and Woody drew out a silenced pistol. The weapon was long-barrelled with an integral suppressor, and clearly of German design. He took aim and looked to Ray for confirmation before squeezing the trigger. Two shots hit the back of one before the other even realised what had happened. He turned in surprise, assuming his friend had tripped and fallen. That is when he spotted Woody, but the gun rang out twice more, and Ray was rushing towards the two guards as the second fell. He had his knife in hand and jumped on the one still moving. He placed his hand over his mouth to silence him and thrust his knife into the man’s throat. Blood gushed out over his hand. He didn’t feel good about it, but it had to be done.

  Lisa was already at the fence with bolt cutters. She cut a man-sized hole in no time, as Woody and Ray carried the two bodies into the alleyway. There was little they could do about the blood on the ground, but it was dark enough that it was hard to see unless you knew what you were looking for.

  Woody was first through the breach and waited for the rest to get through before carrying on.

  “We’ve made it this far,” whispered Woody.

  It felt a triumph to get within the perimeter of the Kampfläuferdepot, but also terrifying.

  “That’s it.” Woody pointed to several large hangars. There was no other sign of movement in the dead of night, and much of the base was unlit, “Come on.”

  They made it halfway to the hangars. The old hospital was next to them. It had been converted Kriegsmarine barracks, but as far as they could see, nobody was on guard, but there had to be a sizeable number of troops inside. They paused to survey the scene.

  “The walkers are in there. We hit this, and we do this right, we’ll change things completely.”

  Ray wasn’t quite so confident, knowing what other resources the Reich had at their disposal, and yet he wanted the mission to succeed as much as any of them. They got back onto their feet and prepared to move when an alarm sounded. It was deafening and echoed out across the entire facility.

  “Shit, we’ve been made!”

  * * *

  Kriegsmarine Kampfläuferdepot, Roosevelt Island, New York

  2
3rd November 2017, 4.30am

  In the pitch-black, the sole light source was the small lamp on Marcus’ desk, and the glimmer of colour coming from the television screen. Normally, the machines would have been indoors, but the Waffen SS had other ideas. They were waiting in line, and each bore the colours and insignia of the hated Waffen SS. He moved his attention back to the videoscreen in his office. New York City Hall was there in all its glory, and he noticed with wry amusement that the place looked pristine. The footage was from several hours ago, and must have been carefully edited to avoid showing the large number of security units Marcus knew were there.

  Always good at the covering up, aren’t they?

  The Mayor was there, along with various other officials. Dark shapes circled overhead, presumably security units of the Luftwaffe making sure nothing untoward happened. The feed then cut to the day before, where seating and barriers were being moved into position for the parade. It was a large circular location, right on the corner of Central Park. And at one side was a podium with seating on both sides. Before the podium was what looked suspiciously like a scaffold. Marcus forced back a scowl and looked back to his men. There were a handful of them left, with just the crew of his landship, plus Thaddeus Kyle and Mose König. The rest were under house arrest, or missing after Marcus had slipped them a warning just before the main SS force arrived. Kaspar Clayborn was the noticeable exception. The other dozen crewmembers lay down, waiting for the inevitable reprimand to arrive.

  “It looks like our Nazi friends are erecting a scaffold at Columbus Circle.”

  “Wait…a what?” Karl asked.

  Marcus continued shaking his battered head.

  “A scaffold. A place to execute traitors by hanging.”

  That silenced every one of them for many seconds until he spoke again.

  “I can’t believe that after all of this, we’re turning against our own people. You’ve all seen the shootings in the last weeks.”

  Karl nodded in agreement. He looked to König and Thaddeus Kyle.

  “Most of us are from the East Coast, and this isn’t what we were promised. The SS are out of control. They have to be stopped. We owe our allegiance to the Reich, but America is our home…our family.”