Taylor, Jones and Chandra sat in a corner of the rooftop defences of their building. It was the calm before the storm which all of them had now experienced more times than they had ever wished. They had re-supplied and were as ready as they could be. Now the only thing to do was wait. Despite the communications lines working, they had received little contact from Headquarters.
“Jones tells me a Sergeant that you’re very close to is in a critical condition in England,” said Chandra.
The Major looked over to Jones with a humbled expression. Both the British officers understood that he had more than a professional relationship with Parker, but didn’t mention it.
“How is she?” she asked.
“Last word the Commander was able to get said she was still in surgery.”
“Then she’s in a better place than us,” said Jones.
“Really?”
“She’s got a solid chance of survival, better than our odds.”
The Major smiled, he appreciated the Captain’s humour in an attempt to settle his grief. The huge advertising display boards on the buildings opposite flickered and caught their attention. The EUA logo appeared on all the screens that had survived the earlier bombing raids. The three officers and the few troops sitting about the rooftop got to their feet and walked to the far side of the building.
They didn’t know what to expect as the huge building-width displays flickered and then faded to a conference room with the EUA logo and lines of the countries’ flags. A podium stood in the centre of the image. It was the familiar set up from which all key speeches and announcements were made by the heads of the EU.
The scene was vacant of any sign of life or movement. Suddenly a woman stepped up behind the podium. She was dressed in a smart suit and looked confident and calm. She turned to the camera looking directly into the lens.
“This message is for all EUA forces and allies thereof. I have with me the representatives of all thirty-one states. We come to you live from London where the President of France and his Majesty the King of the Great Britain and the Commonwealth have travelled to address you personally. Please welcome President Andre Francois.”
The woman left the podium as all the troops at the defences were fixated on the screens. None were ever particularly interested in what politicians had to say, but in this time of need, they clung onto any news they could get.
“Greetings to all of you. To the men and women of the European Union Army, and the many troops who have joined the fight. I want to extend my gratitude to every one of you that is fighting for the freedom and survival of not just our country, but the entire world. I am well aware that time is not on our side and will therefore be brief. You honour us all with your courage. Thank you, and good luck. Now may I present to you, his Majesty King Richard, the Twelfth.”
The French President moved aside and the King stepped up to the podium. In his fifties, and a former soldier himself, the graceful and confident royal wore his blazing red tunic and full regalia.
“Ladies and Gentleman. We have lost the west of France. We have lost Spain. North Africa has also fallen. We cannot lose Paris! I have just received word that four divisions are en route from Russia and its allies. Troops from the Middle East are already arriving in Italy and Yugoslavia. Help is on the way, you have my word! All that matters now is that we all accept that failure is not an option. To fail is to condemn our families, friends, comrades and children to death. The world is looking to you, and you will have our eternal gratitude for the sacrifices you make. Good luck to all of you.”
The King lifted his arm in a salute that was returned by all who were watching the screens, before they cut off and went to black.
“Guess there wasn’t much else to say,” said Taylor.
“What else do you say when faced with global destruction?” asked Jones.
Chandra stopped and listened as a signal came in through her commlink.
“Enemy’s on the move, all troops take up positions and…”
The signal cut off in the same way that they had become familiar with. Chandra turned to notify the others in her command but was beaten to it by the opening barrage from the gun batteries positioned behind the lines.
“I guess they’re on the way then!” shouted Taylor.
“Affirmative, Major. Enemy forces are incoming! Captain, get on the hard line and find out what commands were being given before we were jammed!”
She glanced at the other troops on the rooftop who were looking around as if not sure what to do.
“Everybody get downstairs and into position!”
As the Colonel turned to make her way off the roof the first of the enemy artillery fire smashed into their building. The second energy burst landed close to her tossing her off her feet and across the floor. She crashed into the opposite wall.
Taylor regained composure a few seconds later and found himself resting face first on the hard floor. He clambered to his feet and could see Jones already attending to the Colonel. One of his men lay dead, his body almost torn in two. Taylor staggered over to the officers. Chandra was breathing but roughly, her leg was mangled and bleeding.
“We have to get off this rooftop!” he shouted.
Jones looked to the Major and quickly back to his superior. She was badly wounded, but he knew that she would likely not survive if they stayed up there any longer. She winced in pain as he took hold of her, her body was badly battered. Throwing her left arm over his shoulder he lifted her with both arms.
Another energy pulse crashed at the opposite end of their position and sent fragments of the structure bursting into the air. The only relief was in seeing that the bunker itself remained structurally solid against the onslaught of the enemy’s barrage. Jones carried her quickly down the stairs, leaving Taylor to slam the thick old doors shut behind them.
Taylor rushed to where Chandra had been put down, the lights flickering all around them as each blast that landed nearby rumbled through the structure. Jones had already run down to the next floor to find their field medic.
“Great timing, hey, Major?”
“You’re still breathing, Colonel, there’s a lot to be said for that these days.”
She grinned, gritting her teeth as the pain wracked through her body. “I’ll make it this time, but I am in no state to command.”
“Colonel!”
“Once the blood flow is stopped I’ll be at a window with a rifle, but the battalion is now yours, Major.”
He nodded in acceptance. He had become accustomed to the responsibility of important missions, but none quite as vital as what they were now experiencing.
“This isn’t the kind of promotion I ever planned for, Colonel.”
“Nor here. All I ever wanted was promotion, now all I want is to see us survive this shit.”
“Damn right!”
Jones rushed back into the room with the medic.
“The doc can handle it from here, you two need to get to your positions. Taylor now has command, give them hell!”
The two men stood up, saluting her with grim expressions on their faces. The battle had barely begun and they were off to a bad start. They went to to the nearest window. The narrow firing slots ran along every wall of the structure and were protected by a wall that was over a metre thick. They couldn’t yet see the enemy forces that were approaching, but the artillery and air combat raged all around.
There were no more orders to be given. They knew they had to hold their position at all costs. Taylor and Jones stood side by side, fixated on the view of the broad road up ahead that led to the bridge they were defending.
“Guess this isn’t the way you imagined going out?” asked Taylor.
“No, but our ancestors have a long history of dying for their country in this land, we can at least keep with tradition,” replied Jones.
Moments later they saw a rocket trail soar down the street as the infantry forces to their flank opened fire on the enemy that were still out of their line of sight. Taylor could feel the grimy sweat between his palm and the grip of the launcher in his hands. He looked back to see the crates of ammunition stacked up behind them. At least they could stay in the fight if they could just survive.