"I'd kinda expected to be flying out."
"Rains, what the hell happened up there?"
The pilot shrugged. "All I know is something struck the body of the copter, and two seconds later, bam, no juice. Must be some kind of power jammer."
"And if that thing had hit us in the air?"
"We'd have dropped like a stone."
Acosta's face was one of shock. The scenario terrified him.
"All right, we've got enough to worry about right now," said Taylor. "We're heading for the frontlines from the wrong way, and we aren't exactly inconspicuous."
"I know Dijon is still with us," said Herrera.
"Dijon? Taylor asked. "That's what, a hundred klicks away? Well it's a start."
Border control signs lay ahead, and Mitch could already see armed military personnel manned them.
"How come that Saric isn't on our arse yet?"
"I figure it'll take them a little while to identify this vehicle, Jones, but not too long once we go through this border."
"Any ideas how we're gonna get through?"
There was almost no traffic trying to get over the border, just a single military column stopped off and waiting to pass through in a single lane.
"There’s no way they'll let us through once they see our uniforms, let alone if they recognise us," said Silva.
"Then to hell with it," replied Taylor.
He put his foot to the floor, and the limo surged forward with what was clearly a substantial engine. The heavy beast of a vehicle surged forward towards a gate between two booths. Two of the soldiers turned in surprise and started to swing their rifles off their shoulders. As they did, he heard a clunk on the roof and looked in the rear view. He saw Silva and Herrera step out through a sunroof. The guards took aim but were riddled with shots as the two of them peppered the area around them.
Soldiers all around were rushing to their vehicle to get weapons which had been stowed or laid about as they rested at the side of the road, never expecting to be shot at so far behind their lines. Dozens scurried about to try and stop them, but it was too late. The limo hit the barrier and smashed it aside as though it weighed nothing at all.
Silva turned and fired a burst from where they had passed at two soldiers taking aim and ducked back inside the car.
"Wohoo!" he yelled.
He was like a kid at Christmas.
"Top ten things to do in life, run a border!" he shouted and kept laughing.
He stopped when he saw a column of armoured vehicles ahead; Mechs marched beside them. The sign they passed said they were on the road to Mulhouse.
"Mulhouse? Where the fuck is that?"
Jones was frantically punching buttons on his Mappad, trying to make sense of where they were. They passed the rows of vehicles in the hope no one would start shooting. The dark glass of the massive car was the only protection they had from identification.
"We can't stay on this road," said Taylor. "Only a matter of time till word gets along the line. They're probably putting up road blocks, right now."
"Are we really that important to them?" asked Herrera.
"Well maybe not you, but the rest of us are," replied Jones with sarcasm.
The others began to laugh when Jones shouted out. "Left here!"
Taylor pulled the wheel hard, and the back end of the stretched wheelbase slid around and smashed into a lamppost on the corner of the bend they wanted to take. The post was smashed down into the building beside it, but it had at least stopped the slide.
"Nice driving!" yelled Silva.
Taylor planted his foot once more, knowing they must be drawing attention.
"Where are we heading?"
"This is the road west to Belfort. That column we just saw must be heading for Nancy and all the fighting that's going on up there."
"You sure did your homework since you came back."
"Knowledge is power, Mitch."
Taylor nodded in agreement.
"We gotta get out of this car. Heading in the obvious direction in such a distinctive vehicle, we're on borrowed time. This thing got auto-drive?"
"Yeah, but if we ditch this ride now, we could be overrun on foot," added Silva.
It was a tough call. Use speed to try and outrun, or stealth to try and sneak back to their lines. Taylor was just counting the seconds away until a gunship or drone hit them, and that thought alone was enough to make him want to ditch the car.
They were in a suburb now and could tell they were heading for a scenic route west. He pulled in down a narrow side road and brought them to a halt between two buildings where they would be out of sight. He got out and rested against the car. The others did the same.
"It’s not possible to take the car and go on to Dijon. We can't keep it. Anyone got any great ideas on how to get us back? Preferably yesterday.”
"Get me a bird and I'll take you there in no time."
"And fly over the frontlines without clearance from either side? Eddie, we'd be shot down before we came close."
They all went silent, mulling over the idea. They were so close, and yet it seemed so far from their grasp.
"Get the General on the line and get us evac’d?" asked Acosta.
"It's a nice idea, but he can't reach us here, not without a major offensive, and any transmissions we send out will be tracked immediately. No, we are on our own here."
"Then we go to ground and wait it out a while," said Jones.
They waited for him to continue.
"Think about it. They know our reputation as hard drivers. If they haven't found us in the next six hours, they'll assume we have made it out."
Taylor thought about it for a moment, and he liked the idea more and more.
"It's not a terrible idea."
"Thanks."
"Okay, get that car rolling, and we'll look for somewhere to dig in."
Jones reached in and pressed a few buttons before shutting the door. Moments later the car rolled off smoothly to carry on its route. They all watched it leave. The fifteen-metre luxurious vehicle was hard to let go of.
"That's a damn shame," said Silva.
They all groaned in agreement.
"General Dupont surely knows it’s all gone wrong here. He must do something?" Acosta asked.
"How many times, Private?" asked Silva. "We are a few guys in a big war. Not only that, but this was a dangerous fucking mission to begin with. I thought that was perfectly clear. In this Regiment, when we get into shit, we get ourselves out."
Taylor carried on without another word to a street corner on a small residential area. It had only just occurred to him they had not seen a single soul since taking the bend a few streets back. He had become so accustomed to seeing abandoned towns and cities during the last war it meant little to him.
"Area must have been evacuated when the UEN crossed the border," said Jones.
They carried on down the street that felt like the kind of place you could be ambushed at any moment. A block further down the road, and Silva finally broke the silence.
"What are we looking for?"
As he said it, Taylor stopped and pointed. It was a small local bar.
"If we're gonna be playing the waiting game, we might as well do it in comfort."
"Oh, hell yeah," said Silva.
Taylor went first and opened the door. It was still stocked and tables set up as if they were waiting to open that day. Silva caught sight of a huge leather sofa and rushed over to sprawl out over it.
"Oh, man, this is the life."
Herrera went for the fridges behind the counter. He placed his hand on the door gave out a long sigh.
"No shit, they're still on and ice cold!"
He opened the door and found it lined with bottled beer, but he turned and looked to Taylor for permission to take one. Taylor nodded in approval.