Finally, Atlantis turned to the large windows behind him; he strode over to survey the resource operation.
“I want the gathering to be stepped up. Work the slaves to death. We need to get as many resources through the portal as possible.”
The Aryan officer in the room saluted and then radioed through the orders. Immediately the men below got to work. All available slaves were rounded up and ferried out from the base. They were to collect as many materials as they could carry. Anyone who was deemed too weary to get into the Lorries was shot on the spot.
A ghostly blue glow periodically punctured the air as Die Glocke transported the precious materials through the gateway. The light could be seen from miles away.
The base looked like a ants nest with activity going on in all sectors, the medical staff was ordered to turn as many of the population into living batteries as they could manage. Any person who was deemed not of the correct physiological standard was to be executed immediately.
Vehicles crisscrossed the tarmac as they transported the resources into the conveyor belt next to the large golden acorn. A large group of Aryan soldiers then quickly inspected each package and once they were satisfied they sent it through the portal.
Chinese Blue
A squadron of Xian H-6 bombers flew in above the low cloud cover across the San Francisco Bay. The Chinese heavy bombers were loaded with high explosive bombs. They were being called in to assist the beleaguered ground forces that were in danger of being overrun and losing the beachhead.
The ground troops were being cut to shreds by the 11th Panzer division which was mainly made up of the Maus super heavy tank. These tanks were supported by mobile infantry that held key positions across the city.
The 3rd Army had so far been unable to break out and as the day drew on they were close to collapse.
A small formation of Patton medium tanks was holding back an entire flank but their numbers were steadily diminishing.
“Where is that goddamn air support? We are getting our asses kicked out here.” Commander William Leete bellowed through the radio. He looked to his men and told them to lay down as much suppressing fire as they could muster.
The Browning machine guns on the tanks’ turrets spewed another six hundred rounds at the advancing Aryan soldiers; the few that were caught in the open were cut down quickly but there seemed to be no end to their numbers.
The rumble of engines could be heard from somewhere above them and then the distinctive whistle of bombs falling could be heard above the whine of plasma fire. The bombs hit their targets and explosions rippled through the area.
The first Patton tank to be hit went up in a plume of grey smoke, the infantry supporting the tanks were killed instantly whereas a few men that were slightly further back we burned to death.
The bombs continued to fall and all around him, Commander Leete could hear the screams of his dying men.
“Hold your fire god damn it, blue on blue in sector 62, repeat hold your bombing runs blue on blue in sector 62.” But it was too late the Chinese bombers overhead had been disorientated by the low cloud and were sure they were on target.
By the time the chain of command had got the message through to them the destruction they had caused was terminal.
William Leete had taken shelter in his Patton tank when the bombing had begun; he lay there for a good few minutes after the bombing run had finished. He finally plucked up the courage and opened up the cupola to survey the damage, his bald head peering gingerly over the top.
What he saw sickened him to the pit of his stomach, the charred remains of his men lay scattered around the area. Houses had collapsed and crushed some of his support staff, a burnt limb pointed out from the rubble.
Burning tanks were smoking where they lay, the men inside had been cooked alive. Leete sunk back into his tank and got onto the radio. He tried to signal any survivors but the frequency was dead.
The flank was now undefended so Leete slowly moved his tank back through the devastated buildings towards the fallback position near the docks. Leete fully expected the enemy to be pursuing him but no fire came in his direction.
“Maybe they were taken out by the bombers as well,” Leete said to himself, he thanked the lord for that small saving grace.
A technician turned to Atlantis, “Commander the 1st Panzer army is requesting Kugelblitz support. They believe the enemy has changed tactics and the huge waves of bombers are causing problems for our ground forces.”
“What about the 262’s?” Atlantis growled.
“They are being engaged by fighter escorts sir, a lot of them. They are MiG-21 and MiG-19’s and they are proving themselves to be flown by skilled pilots in close quarter battles.”
Atlantis smiled, “Ok permission granted for five Kugelblitz divisions to be sent to the Western front.”
The room went quiet, “Five sir?”
“Yes lieutenant lets inflict such great losses that they will not be able to mount another assault.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Atlantis watched the situation map change in the East, his units were pushing hard.
“Lieutenant order the 3rd Panzer army to withdraw from San Francisco.”
“But Sir they have nearly crushed the scum.”
“Just do it.” The commander barked.
“Sir!”
Atlantis had something special in mind for the American Pacific fleet. “Send three Kugelblitz divisions to the East. I want the Chinese air force destroyed. Those vermin do not deserve such technology.”
“Yes Sir, that will leave us dangerously light of anti aircraft divisions here.”
“I am well aware of that Lieutenant but we have one division in reserve and keep the 1st air force on standby. But I doubt we will need them.”
The Aryan commander was impressed that the vermin that inhabited this planet could work together so quickly and effectively. Although he only needed another twenty-eight hours to gather the remaining resources; Atlantis had decided he was going to teach these scum a lesson that they would not forget.
‘Then they will fear me and when the time comes for me to return and finish the job they will not dare oppose me!’ he thought to himself and then let a sickening laugh escape his normally calm demeanor.
Serum
Brooklyn Jnr had just received the green light to land at an abandoned airfield barely five hundred miles north of Dayton. The talented pilot eased the heavy Phantom down onto the dust-covered runway and powered down as he gently taxied to the refueling area.
The airfield had been swept by paratroopers several hours early and had been reinforced by chinooks dropping over a small division of Chinese Type 62 light tanks. The airfield had been abandoned several weeks earlier.
The paratroopers had created an all-around defense and were ready to provide cover fire for the incoming chinooks. The chinooks also delivered several large fuel containers and then flew off fast and low when they had finished.
Brooklyn Jnr and the five other Phantoms that had landed were ordered to refuel and then wait for the green light to attack. Brooklyn was uneasy while he was on the ground but he had to follow orders.
At the first sign of trouble, no matter how minor, the Phantoms were instructed to get air born as fast as they could. The Paratroopers were to hold the airfield as long as they could no matter what the cost.
A missile attached to the belly of Brooklyn’s Phantom glistened as it caught the sun, the dark liquid inside swirled in unnatural patterns.