It was not long before they reached the bridge they had fought over just a day before. The wreckage of the Mechs was still on the site, though it had been hauled out of the vehicular route by the armoured units in the area. It was as desolate and quiet as when they had arrived the first time. It was clear to Chandra that they had few troops to divert to the defence of the northern districts.
“I want trenches either side of the bridge! Fortify the buildings this side!”
She beckoned for the two Captains to assemble at her side as the others got to work.
“You think we can hold here?” asked Jones.
“Your guess is as good as mine, Captain. We have our orders, and we’ll do our utmost to fulfil them.”
They looked across the bridge to the wreckage of the Mechs and down the long empty road before them.
“What kind of strength do we anticipate them to come in?” asked Friday.
Chandra shook her head.
“No idea, Captain. Dupont believes that an attack will come. The resistance Taylor faced yesterday would support that.”
“And if we can’t hold?” asked Jones.
“We’ll do what we can. Worst case, we move further in towards the city. If we can’t hold onto Paris, it does not bode well for the rest of Europe.”
“Perhaps you should have returned home. The channel has saved you many times throughout history,” said Friday.
“We stand together or not at all, Captain. No one nation can stand against the invaders. I can’t deny I’d gladly return to England, but it would only delay our fight a little longer.”
“And when the fight goes to America, what will you do Friday?” asked Jones.
“I’ll fight wherever I am ordered, or wherever I may be. We don’t fight as nations any longer. We are a world united.”
Chandra agreed as she stared back down the bridge in deep thought.
“To think this is what it took to finally bring us together, an apocalyptic war which could end our race.”
“It won’t last,” said Jones. “Everyone always wants more, and the Mechs want what we’ve got. If we ever win here, we’ll only want to take what is theirs.”
“War is in our blood, Jones, in the fibre of our species.”
Chandra dipped her head, overcome by the realisation that there was no end in sight. Was this to be her life, to fight until her last breath? She was alerted to the sound of tracks that wiped all the troubling thoughts from her mind. She turned to see a dust cloud emanating from between the buildings they had recently passed.
The three officers stood and stared at the sight as twelve tanks rolled into view, and the rest of the company cheered them on.
“Looks like the Commander came through,” said Jones.
The vehicles had German crosses painted onto their bodies and showed significant wear and repair from recent combat. The lead tank rumbled up and stopped just a few metres ahead of them. The roof hatch opened in the broad and flat turret. A sharply dressed officer in a black tanker’s suit stood up before them. His clean and well cut uniform was in stark contrast to his dusty and scarred tank.
“Major Chandra?”
He spoke in a coarse and distinctly German accent. He stood upright and proud, and with his arm resting on the holster about his waist. She could make out his rank.
“You’re in the right place, Captain.”
“Captain Becker, at your service.”
The German had a friendly grin spanning across his face and showing off his gleaming white teeth. He was a man who cared for his appearance more than most soldiers. It was obvious they had been involved in plenty of action in the previous week, but he looked as if he could have been on the parade ground.
“Good to have you, Captain.”
“Your orders, Major.”
“We are to hold this bridge until told otherwise, Captain. I suggest you go hull down.”
Chandra could just see the faintest of emotion in the man’s eyes. The prospect of standing against the Mechs once again was a fearsome one, but he did everything to hide it. He turned to the vehicles in his column and was already barking orders into his mic.
Taylor and Silva strolled onto the landing zone towards the transport that had been marked out for their journey. They stopped as a familiar face appeared on the loading ramp.
“Captain Reyes, you’re the last man I expected to see.”
“I’d have to say the same if I hadn’t already been briefed.”
Taylor stood back and looked at the transport craft.
“Bit of a step down from the Deveron?”
“She’ll be back, Major. Laid up until we need her again. Right now it’s too dangerous for her up there and too much of a target down here.”
Taylor nodded, but it was good to see a familiar face.
“I’ve got to be frank with you, Major. I’m amazed you’re even still alive. We were lucky to get off the Moon, but your luck seems to run on.”
“So far, Captain. Have you been briefed on our mission?”
“Yes, Sir. I am to act as your liaison officer at Ramstein. You’re stuck with me, Major.”
Taylor turned back to look at the camp. He felt awful for leaving almost all the friends he had in a city under siege, but there was nothing he could do about it. He turned back to the Captain.
“This better be worth it.”
They strolled up the ramp into the ship and were lifting off with a minute of taking a seat. They watched the city from the portholes one last time. The artillery continued to rain down through the vast metropolis. There was no sign of an enemy assault, but they all knew it was imminent.
Chandra walked along the lines of trenches that had already been set up. They had less than a quarter of the men they needed to fill them. She only prayed that the troops the Commander had promised them would materialise.
She stopped as a familiar and soothing smell wafted past her face. She sniffed again to be sure she wasn’t imagining it. She turned to see Captain Jones sat in the bottom of one of the trenches beside a military issue stove. Steam arose from it as tea brewed, Earl Grey.
“You want one, Major?” shouted Jones.
She smiled. She could not think of anything she’d rather have than a one-way ticket out of the city. She jumped down into the trench with the Captain and sat down on the firing ledge above him.
“Where on earth did you get that? All I could get at the camp was coffee.”
“Personal supplies, got enough to keep us going another few days. Dubois sourced it for me.”
“From where?”
“Those are the sort of questions you don’t ask, Major.”
She had visions of them being poached from the Commander’s own cabin. She hoped that was nothing more than her wild imagination, but sadly she knew it was likely a possibility. She didn’t care. Chandra knew there was a good chance the bridge would be the last place they ever saw on earth.
“Sergeant Dubois, you seem quite taken with her?”
Jones looked up with a quizzical and innocent expression.
“I won’t hold it against you, Captain. In this age, a little care could do us all some good.”
“Even if it compromises our integrity and professionalism?”
The Major knew that Jones was talking about Taylor’s insubordination to save Parker. They both knew it went against everything they had ever been taught, and yet they could fully understand.
“Mitch did what he thought was necessary. Sometimes life isn’t as rigid as the rules we are expected to work with. Tell me you wouldn’t have done the same?”
“That’s what worries me.”
“What, that we care for one another? That we are human? What are we fighting for, if it is not that?”
Jones nodded as he poured out the steaming hot tea into two mugs and passed her one. It had not rained that day, but the ground was still soaked from the previous day’s downpour. The smell of fresh rain at least hid much of the smell of death and destruction that filled the city. Chandra took a sip from the mug as a shout echoed around them.