“You are starting to sound like Weathers.”
“And that is a bad thing?”
“He is an idealist, but this is a war. We need results, not symbolic gestures and martyrs.”
“I think we have to take anything we can get.”
They slowed when they reached the ground floor of the building. Ray made sure his rifle was carefully tucked inside his long woollen coat. He pulled the hood of his sweater up over his head to disguise himself as much as possible. Fortunately, it was cold enough outside that many were wrapped up just the same.
There were guards out on the perimeter of the Circle, but few inside. They perceived no threat from inside Columbus Circle and the horde of civilians that had gathered there. It made him feel sick to think that regular New Yorkers had gathered for such a barbaric display of the Reich’s power, but then he could tell by their faces that few were their by choice. Many must have been ushered in whether they wanted to be there or not. Even young children were amongst them, their parents trying to shelter their eyes and ears as best they could.
“There is no need for this. My son should not see this,” a woman muttered as they made their way through the crowd.
“Look at where it got them, standing up to the Reich,” said another man.
His tone was not anti-rebel, but one who had lost all hope.
“That’s Weathers!” yelled another.
“Why can’t these people just stop resisting and let us all get on with our lives?” asked an old woman.
“They will always be heroes to me,” said another.
But nobody spoke up loudly enough to be heard by the ORPOs surrounding them.
“They are scared,” said Ray.
“Wouldn’t you be? If this is the fate of those who oppose the Reich, how could you ever back such a movement?”
The convoy of tanks drew to a halt, and their engines cut out. Ray wasn’t too worried about them. They were there as part of the parade, and could do little in the face of such crowds and important Nazi officials. He kept pushing on through the crowd until fifty metres from the scaffold and the Deputy Führer’s position. He reached inside his coat to take hold of his rifle.
“You ready for this?” Woody asked.
Ray looked around to see a number of their people set up and ready to act. He began to lift his rifle when he suddenly froze. He felt his heart nearly stop as he heard the thundering stomps of the machines. A sound he knew all too well, and always sent a shiver down his spine, as if the Devil himself was approaching. The walkers strode into the Circle and took up position in a semi-circle formation behind the lines of tanks. They bristled with machine guns and cannons, and from their elevated position, they could see everything.
* * *
Umpire Rock, Central Park, New York, NY
Thanksgiving Day, 23rd November 2017
“I can’t believe we are doing this,” said Mickey, the son of the rebels’ leader. The young man leaned over the shoulder of Kapitän Marcus Klenner and pointed to the video feeds.
“They are going to see us.”
Marcus stared back at him.
“No, Mickey, they won’t. The Reich military is out in force, and they have been told that our landships will also be out in force.”
Marcus wiped his brow as he double-checked on his crew. They were his most reliable and experienced men, with Korvettenkapitän Mose König acting as his main gunner. Karl was there as always in the driving position, and even he seemed excited. He’d never had such experienced people in the landship. The rest of the Kriegsmarine were under the command of Korvettenkapitän Thaddeus Kyle, and now they worked with the rebels.
The old landship moved at quite a speed, much faster than a man could move. Even the rocks and rough ground of Umpire Rock couldn’t slow him down. He glanced back at the scattered crowds waiting in the streets along Fifth Avenue and the East side of Central Park. The public had never seen such a metal monster before. Some may have seen the machines on television, but probably not one of such vintage. The Kanonier Class Armoured Landship was a relic from another age, painted in the old battleship grey colour scheme of the War. Gone were the modern markings, giving the vessel a dark and somewhat sinister look.
“Kapitän!” Karl said.
“What is it?”
“Look. They are about to begin.”
At the same time, Mickey leaned over with his handheld radio in his hand.
“He’s right. Ray is waiting in position, and he says they are about to fire.”
“Then tell him to attack.”
Mickey stared at him in alarm.
“Are you insane? They will be massacred.”
Karl and the other crewmembers looked to the young American with astonishment. Nobody spoke to the Kapitän in that tone, yet here the youth thought he could get away with it. Korvettenkapitän Mose König moved to silence him, but Marcus lifted a hand.
“It’s fine, Mose. Today is a special day.”
He then looked to Mickey.
“What’s the problem?”
Mickey pointed off into the distance.
“The SS have moved all three walkers in to guard the execution. If Ray attacks, they will be killed.”
Marcus’ nostril twitched, and Mickey noticed how he rubbed a finger along the old scars. The German officer didn’t seem quite as old as he’d expected, and there was a cool calm to him that he had never encountered before. They moved alongside the long open path that led to Columbus Circle. Reich security operatives were everywhere, but no one seemed particularly concerned about the twenty-metre-tall machine. With each step, they moved closer until Marcus could make out the monument dedicated to Columbus. Further away was the grandstand, hundreds of people, and the great red banners of the Reich.
“There!” Mickey said.
He pointed ahead to the wooden scaffold and the line of men about to be hanged. Marcus moved his attention away from that part of the problem, while his gunner tagged the men waiting to be killed. Marcus was more concerned with the massed ranks of Reich military units. There was no sign of the regular army or police units, just platoon after platoon of Waffen SS.
“That’s a lot of security.”
Then he spotted his old landship Hansa. It was partially obscured by the greenery, and standing still. Its guns pointed towards the podium, the long red Nazi banners hanging limp in the light breeze.
“Where are the…”
Marcus found them off to the right. Vineta was the closest, and behind her the gun and one leg of Thor.
“We need to move around. Thor is the main problem.”
“No. We have to act immediately!” Mickey said, “Look, they are about to pull the levers.”
Marcus made a rapid check, and he was right. The SS men were about act.
“Damn it. Okay…we hit Vineta, and then move fast. We have to stay clear of Thor. Understood?”
The crew responded in a perfectly timed chorus.
“Good.”
“Mickey, once we’ve fired, your father has to act. He’ll have seconds. Is he ready?”
“Yes, he is.”
“Good.”
Without hesitation, he looked towards the motor controls.
“It is time. Raise our colours.”
Mickey pulled out his knife and slashed at the line running down into the hull. It was all that held down the two whip antennas.
“Gunner, target Vineta. Aim for the waist and just under the armour. Keep it low, and keep it tight.”
The antenna flipped up with a cracking sound, simultaneously raising the pair of flags. Both unfurled in the light breeze and fluttered smartly from the upper chassis. One was the old red white and blue flag of the United States, the second the pale white flag of the Kriegsmarine. Not the modern flag, though, but the historical flag of the Imperial Navy, with its black cross, and the black, white, and red bar in the upper-left corner, covered by a small Imperial Cross.
“They’re up!”
Marcus acknowledged him with little more than a raised eyebrow.
“Fire!”
Eiserner Gott, the old war machine from another era, took her revenge against the SS. The machine fired two shots before anybody could react. The pair of arm-mounted L3 snub-barrelled 150mm cannons was devastating at close-range. Each armour piercing shell punched into the waist of Vineta, shattering the motordrives, and cutting power throughout the war machine.
“Again!”
The autoloaders did their job, and even as they loaded new shells, the smaller dual 75mm shoulder-mounted howitzers joined in. They unleashed the deadly high-explosive squad head shells that spread out upon impact before exploding. The double hit tore off the left weapon system, starting a series of fires low in the body. The machine leant over to the right, crashing to ground in a flaming wreck. Korvettenkapitän König felt shocked when it struck the ground.
“Kapitän, they’re coming for us!”
Marcus had already seen the other two machines turning around to face him. The crews must have been expecting trouble because Hansa opened fired without hesitation. The automatic cannons stuck the heavy armour of Eiserner Gott, inflicting relatively little damage.
“Panzerfausts!”
König aimed at Hansa and pulled the trigger. Four Panzerfaust 60 singleshot rockets screamed away, but the countermeasure suite on the other landship blasted them apart.
“Okay. Dump smoke and fall back into the park! Move it!”
With four thuds, the smoke launchers discharged their projectiles, followed by the belching white smoke from the diesel generators. Eiserner Gott moved at a jogging pace, and in seconds was back inside the park. As they cleared Columbus Circle, Marcus spotted four Super Tiger heavy tanks moving along Broadway, and heading right for them. Their guns fired, and at the same time, scores of Waffen SS men fanned out.
“Are they following?”
Gunfire ripped into the ground around them, cutting down civilians and Reich security operatives with impunity. Both SS walkers and the tanks appeared to have little regard for those non-combatants around them as they fired indiscriminately.
“Hell, yes!” König laughed while spinning the Panzerfaut explosive rocket launcher mount to face behind them, “They’re following with a vengeance, and it looks like Ray and his friends are getting stuck in.”
He loosed off another two and aimed just in front of the pursing Hansa. The rockets hit the ground, sending chipped rock and tarmac against the front of the walker.
“Back to Umpire Rock,” said Marcus, “Then we turn and fight back. Let’s show these Nazis how the Kriegsmarine fight.”
The war machine smashed through the greenery of Central Park, pursued by both Thor and Hansa. At the same time, half of the heavy tanks smashed through the fencing alongside Central Park West, moving in to outflank the Kriegsmarine walker. Marcus watched all of this unfolding with utter calm, as though in the middle of little more than a training mission.
“Let’s hope this buys Ray and the others the time they need.”
* * *
Explosions rang out and machine gun fire echoed all around. The scene was horrific, and all eyes were on the walkers as they battled it out. Eiserner Gott was taking a beating. Shell after shell smashed into it, but its thick armour held out, and it returned several salvos before fleeing into Central Park. It crashed through the gateway, burst through the thick woods, vanishing inside. The two remaining SS walkers gave chase without hesitation as though the hunt was on. To their amazement, the Deputy Führer was still there, arrogantly watching the battle unfold as if he was untouchable.
“This is it! This is our chance!”
Ray threw off his coat, pulled back the hood of his sweater, and lifted his rifle. He took aim at the nearest SS man to the Deputy Führer and squeezed the trigger. The first shot hit him square in the chest, but Ray let off two more shots to make sure, and the man collapsed dead. The Deputy Führer looked for the source of the fire.
“Kill him!” he cried, spotting Ray in the crowd.
Before the SS could target him, a burst of automatic gunfire rang out from the building at Ray’s back. It ripped through the troops around the Deputy Führer. Gunfire rang out as the various rebel cells opened fire; many of the SS troops returned it, as a vicious battle erupted. Some of the civilians among them were screaming in panic and trying to run, but others stayed, watching as if mesmerised by what was happening before their very own eyes.
Two SS guards atop the scaffold took aim from their elevated position, but Lisa opened fire and unloaded a magazine into them. One of her shots struck the beam above Weathers, who was still lashed to it. The two SS men were riddled with bullets and collapsed over the scaffold and into the crowd.
“Kill them. Kill them now!” yelled the Deputy Führer.
An SS soldier leapt up onto the scaffold, drew out his pistol, and cocked it ready to fire. He lifted the pistol to the side of Weathers’ head just as Ray raised his rifle. He had little time to aim. He squinted, doing the best he could, and squeezed the trigger. The shot hit the pistol and knocked it from his hands. He’d been aiming at the man’s head and had narrowly missed Weathers. The SS soldier swore and drew a knife to finish the job by hand, but Ray took better aim as he put the knife to Weathers’ throat. He squeezed the trigger, and the bullet struck the man in the temple, bursting out on the other side of his head. Blood burst out over Weathers as the soldier slumped down dead at his feet.
Ray ran on through the crowd to reach the scaffold. He crashed face first into an SS man, and they tumbled down onto the ground. The soldier lifted his rifle to fire, but Ray kicked the barrel away. He smashed the stock of his own into the man’s face, just below the rim of his helmet. He fell over onto his back, but Ray was on him before he could recover. With his rifle in both hands, he smashed the stock down into the man’s face and fractured his skull. It was a sickening sound and feeling, but he felt no regret or sympathy.
Something smashed into the back of his head, and he tumbled over body of his victim, dropping his rifle in doing so. An SS NCO with a pistol in his hands had struck him. He lifted the weapon to fire, but several civilians in panic tumbled into him, and his pistol fell from his hands. Ray took his chance and charged, crashing into the man. They hit the ground together. He punched the SS man in the face, but with the second punch, he lowered head so that Ray struck his helmet.
Ray let out a cry of pain. The soldier struck him in the face, and he tumbled over. The soldier rushed towards him, drove a knee into his stomach, and punched into his face. Blood spurted from his mouth, and with another mighty swing, a cut opened above his left eye. He collapsed down onto one knee. The hulking SS man towered over him with a murderous expression and gleeful smile on his face. The soldier lifted his boot to kick him in the face, but Ray nimbly turned past it, drew the knife from his sleeve, and thrust it into his attacker’s thigh.
He let out a cry of pain as he keeled over. Ray pulled it out and drove it in deep to his flank, before throwing him down to the ground. Ray gasped for air. He was bloody and stunned by the fight.
“You okay?” Lisa appeared before him, loading a new magazine into her grease gun.
“Great timing.”
“You handled it fine on your own.”
“Just about,” he said, picking up his rifle. He had to use it to get back upright, as he felt his knees wobble a little. Lisa noticed and reached out to support him.
“I’m okay,” he insisted.
Gunfire rang out, but he looked up to the scaffold. Weathers and the other prisoners were still tied up. He ran up and jumped onto the scaffold.
“What are you doing here? Are you crazy?” Weathers asked.
“Maybe, but no more than you are.”
Ray took out his knife again and cut the ties. He moved on to the next man. It was Charlie. He cut his bonds and handed him the knife.
“Cut them free!” he barked, turning back to Weathers.
“We’ve got
to get you out of here.”
A bullet struck him before he could respond, and he dropped down to his knees. Ray rushed to his aid, and felt relief on seeing the bullet had gone cleanly through his left arm.
“We have to go. Come on!”
Weathers was just looking out at the crowd and the fighting as if completely mesmerised. Ray tried to pull him away, but he would not budge.
“What are you doing? Come on! Let’s get the fuck out of here!”
“No, this is our chance. This is everything we have been working for,” he replied and stood up defiantly.
“Listen to me! Listen to me!”
A few of the nearest civilians took notice, and Lisa heard it, too. She noticed a loudhailer on a table nearby and picked it up, tossing it to Weathers.
“Listen to me!” he yelled again.
His voice carried far and wide, and even as the fighting raged, many stopped to listen.
“My name is Samuel Weathers, and I am here to tell you that there is another way. These men and women have risked everything to come here today, to rescue just six of us! This is who we are. Americans! Do not let them take that from you. You can take your city back! You can take your country back! Will you stand with us?”
Gunfire landed around the scaffold, and Ray ducked down for cover, but Weathers would not be moved and stood up for all to see. SS troops were swarming in from all directions, more than the rebels could ever hope to defeat.
“Fight, fight for one another, fight for this city!”
The SS were barging their way through the civilians to reach the scaffold when a voice rang out in the crowd.
“He’s right. Fight, let’s fight back!”
A gunshot rang out as an SS officer shot the man who had said it at point-blank range. He died before he’d even hit the ground. The civilians around the victim and SS officer looked on in horror. A woman picked up a weapon from a fallen SS soldier.
“Not in my city!” she cried as she opened fire on full auto.
The SS officer was riddled with bullets.
“Fight! Fight them!” another voice rang out.
Ray couldn’t believe it. The tone was turning from one of desperation and defeat to one of hope. It was as Weathers had predicted, and the look on their leader’s face was something to be marvelled at. Tears trickled down his face as he realised they had done it, and finally sparked the uprising. Civilians all around began to rush the SS troops. Automatic gunfire cut them down in their dozens, but many were overcoming the troops and picking up weapons as they fell. Hundreds of the crowd were turning on the SS as the circle erupted into a warzone.
Soldiers of Tomorrow: Iron Legions Page 21
