“This is it, gentleman! Captain Friday, distribute the new weapons and ammunition! Full battle order and aboard the trucks in ten minutes!”
Captain Jones’ rifle ran dry and he dipped back down behind the wreck of a vehicle he’d been using for cover to reload his weapon. Sergeant Dubois ran up and ducked into position beside him. The driver’s wounds had been cleaned but her forehead and cheek showed deep cuts that had been sealed with spray seal. She carried a rifle she’d clearly picked up from a fallen soldier and stuffed magazines into her filthy body armour.
For a moment the Captain thought about telling her to fall back and leave them to it. It was completely against all regulations to have a wounded member of the vehicle crew joining front line infantry. Then it came to him, the realisation that the modern regulations no longer counted for much in this war. They needed every hand on deck and every weapon in action. He appreciated her courage as much as her efforts. He nodded in gratitude as she rose above the wreckage and opened fire.
As Charlie slammed in the next magazine to his rifle, he looked back at the bodies of four of his men strewn across the road behind their positions. They were just a handful of the casualties in the bloody struggle to defend the tiny patch of the city centre they still held onto. The Captain had been given command of a company that morning, but now he was almost down to a platoon size once more.
“We’re getting annihilated, Sir!” shouted Saunders.
Jones thought for a minute. He looked up to the buildings around them. His troops continued to give the enemy everything they had as the buildings were collapsing all around them. He peered back over the barricades to see ten of the Mechs advancing down the street towards them.
“Why don’t they just nuke us?”
Jones looked to his batman who was stricken but still fighting back with a bitter hatred of the enemy. Then it struck the Captain. The enemy surely had the firepower to vaporise large areas just as they did.
“They want our planet, and without us on it, Private. Think what damage our nukes do. They don’t just want to kill us, they want our lands!”
“Whatever, Sir, we need to get the fuck out of here!”
Looking back down the street he could see that Major Chandra was dashing towards him with two of her marines at her side. A huge section of wall from a nearby building smashed down and crushed one of her men, narrowly missing her before she reached the Captain.
“Jones, we just got a Dart message from Rennes! Evac is in ten, we are to get to the rooftops immediately!”
The Dart system was antiquated technology that was only kept for emergency measures. It fired a targeted message module with pinpoint accuracy, using the theory of carrier pigeons used centuries before. It was a system for when all other technology failed.
“Got that, Captain? The boats won’t hang around, if you’re not there in ten then you’re on your own!” she shouted.
The Captain nodded with a reserved sigh. He had given up hope of surviving the siege. He was still dubious as to whether they would make it out alive, but at least it was something to lift the troops’ spirits. He looked to the men around him, knowing he needed runners to relay the message.
“Saunders, you take the buildings to the east, Hughes to the west. Relay this message, evac in ten, immediate withdrawal!”
The men quickly ran off into the now derelict buildings from where the troops continued fighting from. Jones leapt up and carried on laying down fire on the Mechs approaching their position. He looked back to the few troops left along the barricade.
“Come on! Give it to them!” he balled.
The runners didn’t spare a moment in recovering their comrades from the buildings. Any fatigue was immediately forgotten as the news of their rescue spread. The remaining troops poured out, some helping their wounded comrades who had fought on through injury.
“That’s it, fall back!”
Jones took to his feet and started to move back with the rest of the troops. The barricade and wrecked vehicles provided cover for their retreat, at least until the enemy reached them. He counted the troops as they rushed back towards the centre of the crossroads. He counted thirty-eight, including Dubois.
It was doubtful that anymore than a handful were at the aid station. Jones’ fear that he had lost close to three platoons out of four was a reality he was hoping not to have to face. Reaching the square he found Major Chandra and Colonel Girard ushering troops into the two tallest buildings either side of the road.
The French armour had been entirely abandoned and the troops funnelled into the buildings in a desperate hope of escaping the fate of many of their friends. Chandra looked at Jones’ bedraggled company jogging up the street, many being assisted.
“This all that survived?” she shouted.
Charlie nodded, he could not bring himself to say it. She was as distraught as him, but quickly snapped out of it.
“Alright, Captain, get your arse up top!”
Running through into the building that was a high class fifty-storey office complex, he could see troops pouring into the twelve elevators and many more queuing to use them.
“The wounded stay for the elevators, anybody still on their own two feet takes the stairs!” he ordered.
Jones smashed through the doors of the stairs and didn’t even break stride, leaping onto the first steps. He was already breathing heavily. It was in this moment that he appreciated the gruelling training regime they’d endured on a regular basis. All hated long runs in full armour, but it had readied them for this very moment. Not only were they running from the enemy, but also they all knew they had limited time.
Finally smashing through the rooftop doors, Jones’ exhausted men were greeted by the sight of countless aircraft with troops piling aboard. An explosion erupted in the sky as an enemy ship zoomed by and blasted a troop carrier out of the sky as it lifted off. Friendly fighters rocketed by with guns blazing.
Seeing a craft land not far to their side, Jones immediately rushed towards it, despite how dead his legs felt.
“Run!” he shouted.
They clambered aboard the vessel and sat helplessly hoping that they would make it out alive. From the windows in the side of the transport they saw the alien and human fighters battling it out. They saw at least ten friendlies drop out of the sky as the pilots placed themselves between the enemy and the transports.
The ship lifted off and immediately went to full throttle, darting across the sky. Seconds later they were away from it all. Gone were the deafening sounds of battle and the death and destruction all around. Now they sat in silence, hearing nothing but the faint drone of the engines. Not one of them could think of a word to say, they merely stared at each other in a combination of despair and relief.
Once again the Major sat looking at the troops which lined the copter they were travelling aboard. Gone were the cheerful jokes and larks that had echoed through the vessel during their training mission just days before. Their training had prepared them for a full-scale war, but none of them ever expected to face it.
Their briefing had been short and rather vague compared to most training briefs. It was clear they were on a mission full of uncertainty. The Canadian and SAU forces had already embarked via sea in the middle of the night. The marine forces attacked via air in a combined operation.
Taylor knew that this mission was a test bed for future operations. The attack was not intended to gain ground, but simply to occupy it for a short time, causing as much damage as possible to the enemy and giving relief to the war in France.
Without any idea of objectives or layout of the enemy island now known as Tartaros, the human troops were being piled in to cause as much trouble as they could. The expectation was to take and hold the western beachhead for no more than a day, killing as many of the enemy as possible and setting explosives on the way out. The Major didn’t like the lack of intelligence and knowledge about their target, but knew that they had no choice but to act.