“Don’t leave me down here, General! You need me!” he yelled.
He could just see the back of the General and the guards as they continued to walk away, as if they had not even heard him. He smashed his hands against the cell bars in a desperate attempt get their attention, but it made little difference.
“Fuck!” he screamed.
Taylor knew that Dupont and Schulz were bastards, but he never imagined they would be so evil. Schulz is going to ruin the Company. God help them if any harm comes to Chandra and the others. He paced back to his bed and slumped down onto the hard and uncomfortable mattress. He felt utterly lost. Being locked up was bad enough, but knowing his friends were being led by such murderous bastards was too much to bear. This can’t go on forever, I have to get out!
“Have you seen these co-ordinates, Captain?” asked Silva.
Friday looked up with a grim expression. He knew exactly the meaning of the Sergeant’s query.
“We have our orders, Sergeant.”
Silva took several quick steps to come up beside the Captain and out of earshot of the platoon who were checking and readying their equipment.
“A scouting party three clicks east for an engineering company to get to work, and two clicks back. We might as well walk towards their guns.”
“Dupont wants us to start gaining ground and moving our positions forward. They will work under the cover of the main lines while we are there to give a heads up in case of any trouble.”
“Sir, a few dozen of us with this old kit in no man’s land. Tell me that isn’t suicidal. Tell me this isn’t a death sentence to punish us.”
Friday knew that the Sergeant was right, but he also knew there was little to be done about it.
“What am I to do? We follow the chain of command.”
“Major Taylor didn’t,” snapped Silva.
“And look where it got him.”
Friday sighed. He hated his current position.
“Look, I am not saying what the Major did was wrong. I would have done the same in a heartbeat, but if we want to get him back, we need to pave the road for his return. Schulz is not beyond punishing all of us for a single deed.”
Silva spat on the ground beside him. He was utterly disgusted by their leaders.
“Why the fuck are we fighting for such assholes?”
Friday continued to check his weapon over and answer the question as the Sergeant became angrier. His heavy breathing over the Captain finally forced Friday to look up and answer.
“We aren’t fighting for them, Sergeant. We are fighting for ourselves, and for each other and every poor bastard on this world who can’t fight for themselves. The masses wouldn’t stand a chance. So we have to deal with obnoxious Generals. How is that any different to any other period in our history? There are some damn fine officers in this army and some damn bad ones.”
“Army, thought we were marines, Sir?”
“We are whatever we need to be. We live in the most uncertain times that anyone has ever known. We can keep fighting against each other, or we can move forward to take the fight to the invaders. The time will come when the brass will remember how much they need Taylor.”
Silva nodded as he took in what the Captain was saying. He had let his anger over the Major’s detainment cloud his judgement and deter him from the tasks at hand. Friday could see in Silva’s face that the Sergeant was beginning to come to his senses.
“You have been the best NCO I have had the pleasure of serving with, Sergeant. Your cool headedness and efficiency has kept us alive through the worst of it. Stay the course. Do exactly as you have been doing, and we’ll be fine, as will the Major.”
“Yes, Sir,” he replied.
Friday could see some relief in the Sergeant’s face. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and he had calmed substantially. Friday was just as frustrated at the Major’s imprisonment as any of them. They had been best of friends from just a few months after enlistment. A German soldier rushed up and stopped to speak with the Captain.
“Sir, the engineers are ready to move forward, ready when you are.”
Friday turned to Silva.
“Be sure the platoon is ready to leave, Sergeant. We go in five.”
“Ma’am, is it correct that Captain Friday has been sent out over the top?” asked Yorath.
She nodded with a sullen and begrudging expression.
“Did his platoon get the Reitech gear issued?”
Chandra shook her head.
“What? They were sent out there with fuck all? No armour, no decent gear. Who the hell gave that order?”
She continued to look out into the ruined wastelands that stood between their lines and the enemy.
“This is yet more punishment isn’t it? Schulz can’t get over Major Taylor’s rescue mission?”
“I thought that much was clear weeks ago, Lieutenant,” she replied.
“Fuck sake. When is he going to start thinking like a soldier and not like a selfish bastard?”
She smiled. It amused her that the young officer was surprised at the General’s response.
“How could it ever have been any different, just because Taylor did the right thing? There are consequences to every action. Taylor knew that, as did we all. I will happily pay any price Schulz can levy at us, in knowing that we left no one behind.”
“If only I could get my hands on that bastard! Taylor should be running this army. We’d be half way across France by now.”
Chandra turned in surprise.
“Careful what you say, Lieutenant. Even the suggestion of such could be enough to warrant you a cell opposite the Major.”
“Fuck it, I don’t care anymore. We have done nothing but our very finest to fight this enemy. We have given everything, and Taylor more than anyone. How can anyone lock him away now? This army needs him!”
Chandra said nothing and continued to stare into the distance. The plain before them was largely flattened by the weeks of brutal combat. The twisted wrecks of armoured vehicles of both sides littered the ground and fallen burnt trees lay among them. Finally, she turned to Yorath with a smile.
“You’ve still got me, Lieutenant.”
Friday advanced cautiously across the uneven ground. The shelling of the area had created huge craters in the terrain. They made slow progress weaving in and out of debris and clambering up and over the ruined fields. The German engineer crews had already got to work behind them. They could make out other similar scouting parties far off in the distance.
“The General must be trying to advance the whole line,” whispered Silva.
“You didn’t think it was just us, did you?” replied Friday.
Silva smiled. They both assumed they’d been given a uniquely shit mission.
“Nice to know we aren’t the only ones on the shit list, hey?” Silva jested.
They continued onwards as ordered through the rubble of no man’s land until they could no longer see the other scouting parties on their flanks. The barren wasteland that had been the battleground for Ramstein was over two kilometres wide. The humans recovered their wounded where possible, but the Mechs seemed to care little for their casualties.
The bodies of the invaders were scattered across the ruined land amongst torn apart vehicles. The heavy artillery on either side had reduced much of what attempted to cross it to little more than shrapnel. A few metres away, Captain Friday could see a French soldier’s helmet and half of a weapon, but there was little sign of any body.
“Jesus, this place is like a fucking scrap yard,” whispered Silva.
The cool wind had carried away much of the foul stench that had inhabited the battlefield, but it couldn’t make the air fresh or barely more than tolerable. Silva could see a Mech that had been torn in half and bled out while still in its armour. Its blue blood had dried and hardened to an almost black oily texture.
The soldiers had been through hell, but never had they inhabited the same battlefield for such a prolonged period. They hadn’t ever had to awaken to the sight of sheer destruction every morning. Friday caught the sound of a craft darting across the sky, and he looked up in surprise to see a small plane flash across at high speed. He could just make out the shape as a Eurofighter XB. A split second later, an enemy fighter blasted past on its tail.