“Here’s my girl.”
It was a medium weight, six-wheeled armoured car with small turret and light cannon.
“After we lost our armour in Brest, the survivors were reformed as a reconnaissance and infantry support battalion. These were the only vehicles that could be spared to replace it.”
“That’s a bit of a step down.”
“Hey, we’re still alive, that counts for a lot.”
The Captain wished he could take the words back, but it was too late.
“True, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“Enough of your apologies, Captain. We have a job to do, climb aboard.”
She hauled open the rear door allowing the troops to clamber in. The vehicle had seating for six as well as its three crew. Jones climbed through into the commander’s chair next to Dubois’ driving position.
“Where are your crew, Sergeant?”
“Nowhere you need to worry about, Captain, so where are we heading?”
Jones looked at the map displayed on a screen in front of him. Paris was quickly becoming familiar from such a view. His hand stretched across the map, tracing the steps Taylor had explained to him before he left.
“Here, the Major saw a small anomaly on surveillance photos, and that’s the area.”
“That’s about half an hour’s drive from here, if we are quick.”
Before the Captain could respond, Dubois planted her foot to the floor and the vehicle rushed forwards. The crew watched as they stormed out of the base without opposition. Nobody questioned troops that were heading anywhere but east. It was not long before they were free of the war-torn centre and driving among peaceful and intact neighbourhoods. Jones had begun to forget anything but the devastated rubble of the west.
“You got ammo aboard?”
“Of course, Captain.”
He turned back to Monty. “Get on that gun.”
“Got it, boss.”
The man weaved his way through the cramped seating to the gun position.
“We expecting trouble?” he asked.
“Always,” replied Jones.
The Captain turned to Dubois. She rode towards danger with no fear or regard for her own life at all.
“Will this armour hold up to their weapons?” he asked.
“I haven’t found out personally. I’ve heard they can take a few hits from the Mechs’ guns but nothing from their heavier weapons.”
“It’s an improvement over soft skin.”
They heard a heavy clunk as Monty loaded the turret-mounted cannon.
“Think you can handle that?” shouted Jones.
“Looks pretty simple, Captain!”
“Fuck!” Taylor screamed through clenched teeth as Silva reset his leg.
He spat out the block he’d been biting down on and took a deep breath.
“We should never have come out alone.”
“We didn’t, Sir,” replied Silva.
“Should have brought the whole battalion out for this.”
Silva helped lift the Major’s foot and rested it on a stool as he winced in pain. The Sergeant picked up two metal poles which he had collected from the store and placed them either side of the leg.
“It’s gonna hurt like hell to walk, but at least you’ll be on your feet.”
“Right now, anything is an improvement.”
Silva picked up a packet of duct tape and ripped it open. He quickly wrapped the silver tape around with some pressure along the length of most of the leg.
“That should do it.”
Taylor lowered his leg and winced with pain as it dropped to the ground. He pulled himself up. His wounded left leg was at least now useable. The splint had given the strength for him to walk. He hobbled a few steps and was glad to be back on his own two feet. Mitch stopped and froze at a sound from outside. Silva reached for his gun, but Taylor put his hand up to call for silence.
The two marines stared intently at the glass front of the shop, trying to identify the noise. Seconds later they heard footsteps that were too heavy to be human. Silva’s eyes widened as his hand slowly reached for the rifle on the table. They both knew that they were woefully under equipped to take on any kind of attack, but neither would they go down without a fight.
The footsteps grew louder until their source came into view. It was one of the taller and more bulky invaders they had become so familiar with, and it strode past. They stood silently, hoping to go unnoticed. The Mech continued on, but neither man relaxed as they knew that the enemy soldier would not be alone.
A moment later a second Mech passed the window next to them. They could hear the footsteps of another following, but little else. They rightly came to the conclusion that it was a three-troop scouting party. With the brief gap after the two Mechs, Taylor hobbled quickly back to the table where his launcher rested, snatching it up. He couldn’t kneel and so took up position behind a broad support beam.
Taylor held his breath and peered around from the cover to the street. The shelving units of the hardware store obscured much of the view. The third Mech strode into sight. They waiting patiently in the hope that it would pass them by, but they already feared that they would not have such luck. The beast stopped as it got towards the end of the shop.
Taylor slipped back behind cover. He looked down at Silva who huddled behind a counter. He noticed a hand grenade hanging from the man’s armour, remembering he had one also. He looked down and gripped it, thankful of any advantage they could get. He pulled it from his vest and took it in two hands, letting the launcher rest on its sling.
The Sergeant watched Taylor and waited for his signal. They both listened intently for any sign of the Mechs. The nearest one came to a stop, turned and took a few paces back. They both knew that the beast was suspicious and was therefore investigating. Taylor looked down at the floor. They had walked dirty and wet foot prints into the shop. Mitch wanted to kick himself for leaving such crumbs for the enemy, but it was too late.
The door of the shop opened, and their hearts raced as they heard a Mech stomp inside. Taylor looked down at Silva and nodded. He twisted the grenade and leaned out from cover just enough to see his target. He threw the grenade and ducked back behind cover before the Mech could respond. The explosion was deafening, shaking everything in the room and sending boxes and shelving flying.
Taylor then lifted his launcher in readiness, but his ears were still ringing. The building fell silent once again. They had expected to come under a hail of gunfire, but the shots never came. Mitch peered around from the cover to investigate, just catching a glimpse of a Mech in the street looking around for enemy positions. They must have assumed it was a trap or a mine.
He looked across the shop entrance. Most of the glass had been blow out from the building and littered the street. He stayed utterly still, watching from his hidden position. The enemy soldier was hunched slightly with its weapon ready to fire. It was still looking around in all directions. Another strode up to it and relaxed slightly. Taylor could tell that they were communicating by their body language, but he could hear nothing.
He turned his head just a fraction and peered down at Silva. The Sergeant was still hidden from view and awaiting his orders. Mitch could see no fear in his eyes, and he was ready for anything. The Major turned back to the street. The two Mechs were looking at the site of the explosion and their fallen comrade. They moved cautiously towards the rubble. Taylor’s grip on his weapon instinctively tightened.
As much as he wanted to avoid a fight, Mitch knew that they stood little chance of moving freely with the Mechs walking the streets. The odds were not in their favour, but at least they had maintained the element of surprise. He watched as they stepped up to the twisted armour of the Mech that was scattered across a three metre area.
He looked back at the Sergeant and gave him the nod. Silva leapt up and trained his rifle on the closest enemy, firing a long burst into the mirrored armour that protected their heads. The continuous stream of bullets into the weak visor caused it to crack, and the bullets smashed through. The Mech went limp, dropping with a heavy smash to the ground.