“Take up positions in the buildings! I want ARMALs on the roofs, deploy motors, set up a firing arc on this route. Let’s give these bastards hell!” Jones shouted.
Chandra stepped back to his position after barking similar orders to the company she previously commanded.
“Captain, I have ordered A and B Companies to hold the southern limits as long as they can, this will be our last line of defence for the city. If they get past us here, the armour is finished.”
“Girard having a hard time?”
“He’s just about holding, but sounds like the enemy have brought up heavier equipment that we are yet to see. He might last a while in his current positions, but only if we can hold the rear.”
Jones took the Major’s arm and led her out of earshot of any of the men.
“We are digging our own graves here, Major. The only exit point we have left is the road to Morlaix to the east and we are getting dangerously close to be encircled.”
“I am well aware of that, Captain, as is Brigadier Dupont.”
“So he intends to leave us here to die?”
“No, Captain. The brass has accepted that our armour will never leave this place, they are organising a mass airlift as we speak. They only ask that we hold out as long as possible to keep the enemy from advancing further east while they amass forces.”
Jones sighed in relief. He was beginning to lose faith in their leaders, now at least they had a plan. Their attention was quickly turned to a soaring sound of powerful engines to the west, followed by explosions in the city. They looked up to see the familiar blurred outlines of the camouflaged ships of the invaders flying by overhead. The city shook with the tremors of whatever bombs they had just dropped. They could only imagine the pounding the French armour was taking.
Taylor still sat uneasily amongst the top brass in the General’s Command Centre. He never wanted the responsibility of sitting at a desk and making decisions that affected countries. The Major was a combat soldier. His rear was going numb and his knees beginning to ache. It was a clammy and humid room, but that may have just been the tension of the situation.
For all of his gruelling combat and physical training, Mitch had never felt so fatigued as he had done in this room. He looked again at the scanner, showing the flight trajectory of thousands of aircraft.
“What’s our status?” asked Smith.
“Our boys are fifteen minutes out from target,” said White.
The next step of the U.S. forces had been a massive aerial strike. No longer had their leaders fretted about small strikes or testing the water. They had amassed more fighters and bombers for one single mission that had been seen since a world war. Where a dozen missiles failed, thousands of aircraft could succeed, or at least that was the principle.
“Do we have any idea if we can shoot their craft down?” Smith asked.
“This is a new experience for us all, we can only do the best under difficult circumstances. Our boys have faced off against these bastards. Major Taylor was able to bring down their soldiers and they aren’t invulnerable. We’ll keep hitting these bastards until they go down!” shouted White.
“General White, may I have a word with you in private?” asked Taylor.
The General nodded, he’d never been interrupted in the middle of an operation before, but he had quickly come to trust the Major. Not only that he knew he had to open his mind to new ideas. Both men were glad to get to their feet and stretch their weary bodies. White led Taylor into a small office next to the command room. They happily stood as they straightened their backs.
“General, we have to entertain the possibility that this mission will fail. Either because their aerial defences will be highly effective or our bombs are too ineffective.”
“What are you suggesting, Major?”
“We know two things right now, we have had some success in ground combat, we just need bigger guns. We also know that France and Spain are taking a beating. I suggest we re-equip as best we can with heavy weapons and amass for a large scale infantry strike.”
“At what location, Major?”
“Strike right at them. The EUA forces are fighting on mainland Europe to the east. If we strike directly at Tartaros with substantial forces, we open a second front and take the fight to them. It should alleviate the pressure on Europe and allow them a chance to push back.”
The General shook his head. He always knew in the back of his mind that a large-scale ground deployment could be possible, he’d just tried to not think about it.
“The last thing I want to do is put tens of thousands of troops into a warzone, but if it has to be done, so be it. Let us just be thankful that we’re not having to fight on our own soil.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Major, I am giving you permission to leave. We are not making any final decisions until we see the result of the air attack, but let’s get started on sorting out the weapon situation. We still have a lot of weapons in store from fifty years ago, considered excessive for the modern day peace we enjoyed until so recently. Get to the armoury stores, you have permission to take and use anything you need, I am giving you the highest security clearance.”
“I appreciate it, General, I will do my best to equip my company with the best equipment I can find, but we’ll need to a equip a great many more men in the coming weeks.”
“I hear you, Major. Sort through everything we have, equip your men and get a report to me by the end of the day on urgent operational requirements. Anything we need we’ll put into immediate production or purchase.”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
“Now, I have a mission to oversee, get to it, and God help us all.”
Major Taylor saluted the General before taking his leave. He was grateful to get away from the high stress atmosphere of the Command Centre. Despite the risks involved, he would rather take a combat mission any day than return there.
He left the building and lifted his communicator, calling his company base. He requested Captain Friday and Sergeant Silva. He could not afford to remove too many of the command staff at any one time, but he also knew how vital it was to source new equipment. The armoury was a ten-minute drive across the base. He flagged down the first passing jeep.
The driver immediately recognised the Major and was keen to help. With his rank the man had little choice but to assist him, but he could have made it difficult, quoting procedure. The fact was that Taylor had become a minor celebrity on the base, the man who survived the Moon invasion and rescued their Prime Minister.
To Taylor the Moon mission was a disaster. But compared to much of what was happening on Earth it had at least succeeded in part. The driver, a young corporal, was eager to discuss the action he’d seen up there but it was a sad reminder of the events for the officer. Rolling up outside the armoury, Friday, Silva and also Parker were already there. Taylor was surprised that they were able to get there so quickly.
“How long have you been here, Captain?”
“A while, Sir.”
“But I only called you here ten minutes ago.”
“Sir, the company needs some hardware, we’ve been trying to convince them to give it to us all morning, but I fear anymore and we’ll be escorted away.”
Taylor grinned. His troops did not fear combat, they only loathed the idea of returning to it without the equipment they needed.
“The time for waiting is over, Captain, I have been given unlimited access and authority to draw whatever I wish, as well as to compile a report on recommended equipment for urgent operational requirements for the whole division.”