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“French forces are being bolstered by European and Eastern allies, so we must now look to our own lands.”

“Sir, we were combined with Major Taylor’s marines, and we have a duty to him and his troops. He is overdue from a reconnaissance mission. We can’t leave him out there…”

“Captain, this is not up for discussion. You have your orders. All British forces are to return to UK soil immediately. We have aircraft inbound. Expect pick up in under an hour.”

He turned to a map of the area and pointed to a marked out section.

“The designated landing zone is here at the east end of Concorde Square. Make sure you are on the transports when they leave.”

Jones turned back to the French Colonel who he had become so close to.

“We all have our orders,” said Girard.

The Captain could see Dupont wipe his brow behind the other men. The Brigadier was not happy with the state of affairs. Jones wanted nothing more than to question the Commander and reason with him, but he knew it was not just unprofessional and ill-disciplined, it was also futile. He turned back to Phillips.

“Somewhere we can get some grub, Sir?”

“A ration point has been set up. You will find it marked on the map outside. That will be all, Captain.”

Jones nodded and turned away without a salute. He strode out from the command vehicle to be met by a familiar face, Chandra.

“Colonel?”

“That’ll be Major, the promotion was only temporary, and we have more officers than we need now.”

“Sorry to hear that, Major.”

Chandra walked with a limp and was using a crutch in one hand, but she wore full gear with a rifle sling around her back and a helmet hung from her belt.

“Major, we are being sent back home.”

“Yes, unfortunately, I already know. They want us back to keep the country safe. After the government saw how quickly the Mechs rolled up to Paris, they want to avoid that state of affairs with London.”

“Can’t the Navy and Air Force handle that?”

“In theory, yes, you would hope so, but they want us back all the same.”

“You know Taylor is still out there? He went out on a recon mission on the northern outskirts and has been out of contact since. He should have been back by now.”

“I hadn’t heard, you think he’s found trouble?”

“In my gut, I know it.”

Chandra turned and headed for their men who lay about the truck. She gestured for him to follow.

“We move out in one hour, Captain.”

“Yes, the Commander has already made that clear.”

“Then you have one hour to burn.”

He stopped and looked at the Major, making sure he had heard her right.

“Major, Phillips will have my balls if I leave this base.”

“And if Taylor needs help, and you aren’t there to give it, how would you feel?”

“It is still a blatant breach of orders.”

“I cannot force you to do anything, Captain, but I would not leave a friend out there. You find the Major and get back here within the hour, then there’s no problem. Get out there and find that he needs help, and then we’ll deal with the circumstances when we have to.”

“The Commander…”

“The Commander works behind a desk. He’s a decent man, but he has no care for the troops in the field.”

Jones nodded, it was all the confirmation he needed to do what he knew was right. He strode up to the troops.

“Commander says we leave in one hour, time to get some grub.”

Green looked up at the Captain. They had eaten recently. Jones turned back to the command truck to see the Commander watching them from the door. He spoke to his men quietly.

“Taylor needs our help, and as far as Phillips is concerned, we’re getting a meal. So, on your feet.”

They enthusiastically got moving. The British paras had become close friends with the marines over the last week, thinking of them all as the single unit they had been amalgamated into. Chandra smiled as she watched them troop out of sight from the command truck. Jones watched to see that they were clear, and then put his hand out to stop them.

“Most of you will have to stay here to cover for us, so I want three volunteers.”

“I’ll go,” said Green.

Jones nodded in gratitude. The Lieutenant had been more than useful.

“We’ll go,” said one of the Johnsons.

The two brothers would rarely be separated. Even the Major referred to them by their nicknames, Monty and Blinker.

“Alright, let’s do this. We head on together. The four of us will fork off as soon as we have mixed with the other units. It’s vital that Phillips has no idea of our intentions until long after we have gone, or at all if possible. Matthews, I’m leaving you in charge.”

“Got it, Sir,” replied the young Lance Corporal.

“Alright, let’s move out.”

The group of paras ambled towards the ration wagons, giving every indication that they were relaxed and ready to settle down. Jones looked to Matthews. The soldier was completely unfazed by the situation, having absolute confidence in his team.

“If we are caught, there will be hell to pay. Do what you can to give us a clear run, but don’t put your neck out.”

“Don’t worry about us, Captain. You just find the Major. We’ve lost enough brothers already, don’t let that tally increase.”

Jones nodded in both agreement and gratitude. They reached a swarm of troops from different regiments and nations who were scattered across an area the size of a football pitch. As they dispersed into the mass of camouflage, Jones surveyed the situation. The command truck was out of view, so they were well covered.

“Alright, that’ll do, break.”

He split off from the others towards the northern perimeter, the other three men following suit. Moments later they were at the rim of the square and winding their way through lines of parked vehicles. They found a small jeep, similar to what they were used to.

“This’ll do, get in.”

The Captain leapt into the driver’s seat and looked down at the controls, trying to find the engine start.

“Going somewhere, Captain?”

Jones jumped in his seat and shot a look up above the screen as he reached for his sidearm. Sergeant Dubois stood in front of the vehicle. He gave a sigh of relief and relaxed his shoulders although his pulse still raced.

“Can’t imagine you were given the authority to commandeer this vehicle?” she asked.

“No.”

The Captain replied with an exhausted tone and dipped his head. The French Sergeant had done them a good turn back in Brest, and he felt shamed at having been caught by her taking one of the vehicles.

“If you’re going out, you’ll want a little more armour, Captain.”

He shot a glance up to the woman, hoping he had heard her right.

“Come with me.”

“You could get in major trouble for this, Sergeant.”

She turned back to them as they walked.

“The world is already in deep trouble, Captain, so it can’t get any worse.”

Jones smiled in response.

“So you are going after someone, I take it?” she asked.

“Why would you think that?”

“A small team without permission going into unprotected territory, why else would you risk your lives?”

The Captain could not hide it. Dubois had a sharp mind and had already proven to be a fine soldier. She still bore scars on her face from the wounds sustained a week ago, and several of them would never fully heal.

“Major Taylor. He went out hours ago and hasn’t returned or been in contact. He was investigating some peculiar readings from surveillance images.”

“And you think he found trouble?”

“I bet money on it. We’ve been ordered to return across the channel within the hour. If we can’t find the Major, nobody will.”

She looked at him. “You’re a loyal friend.”

“Without men like Taylor, we wouldn’t have got this far. I am not willing to give up on him.”

The Sergeant stopped at a vehicle they had reached and tapped the hull.