The armoured column head across the ground, smashing their way through wrecks and having to drive over the bodies of many who had fallen. The guns fired on the move and pounded their positions as most of the defenders took cover. The first RAT launcher fired and bounced as its target turned and glanced the shot off its hull.
"Fuck, fuck, take them out!" yelled Taylor.
The second fired, and the same tank was blown apart. Cheers rang out across the line as a volley of the launchers fired and another four vehicles were knocked out, and the rest began to fall back.
"We held? We held!" Silva shouted.
It was a surprise to Taylor as well, and he got up to survey the scene. The enemy casualties were horrific, but he looked back to the obliterated street they had fought from, seeing just how few defenders remained. There were only a handful of casualties from Inter-Allied. They now had more in number than the Regiment initially deployed to defend the city. He looked around for his closest friends and found Parker attending to a casualty.
"That was good timing," stated Jones.
"My timing is always impeccable, is it not? Stay put and do what you can to get the wounded out of here," he added.
Taylor retraced his steps to Anders. She was lying sprawled out against a pile of debris. For a moment, he thought she was wounded, but she turned to face him as he approached. She looked exhausted, both physically and mentally.
"I don't know how much more of this I can take," she whispered as he grew nearer.
"You'll do just fine. Are you in charge here?"
She nodded. "Nobody else left for the job. Only officers who aren't dead, wounded, or missing is the Lieutenant over there and myself."
"You've done a hell of a job to keep it together."
He could tell it meant a lot to her, but she tried to pretend it didn't.
Before he could carry on, he looked down at a small light flashing on the display of the Mappad on his arm. It was an incoming call. He quickly tapped to answer and found Dupont before him once again.
"Taylor, how are things there?"
"Bad."
"They are all over. At least you haven't given any ground. The south is faring much worse. Can you redeploy to assist down there?"
"I don't think so, Sir. Not much left to defend this city, bar a few stragglers. Without us, it won't hold."
"That's not the kind of news I need."
"Tell me about it."
"Can anyone else hear this?"
"Affirmative."
He got the message and walked over to a quiet spot.
"You can talk freely now, Sir."
"The honest truth, Taylor, is that we are in trouble. Big trouble. We're stretched thin, and the UEN just keep hitting us. The Mechs are what are making the difference. They're advancing and taking ground without any fear. Their losses are high. We keep knocking 'em down, but more come right back at us."
"Well aware of that, Sir," he replied, thinking it was strange it even needed saying, considering he was on the frontline and witnessing it with his own eyes.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Stay put, do what you're doing. I'll see what I can do in the south."
The communication cut off, and he strolled back to the Captain.
"Something wrong?" she asked.
"Nothing you don't already know. Keep your chin up, Captain. Think like a winner."
He carried on back to Jones. Most of the casualties were gone or being moved as he approached. Taylor slumped down beside him and reloaded his rifle.
"Any news?"
"Nothing good, Charlie."
"Well, what is it?"
"South is taking a beating. Dupont wanted us to head down there and help."
"We can't leave here. It'll fall before we even get to the south."
"That's what I told him."
Jones shook his head, and as he so frequently did when there was a lull in the fighting, drew out his small stove to brew up. Taylor couldn't help but laugh; as he was reminded of the last time he had seen Grey do the same.
"What's so funny?"
"Ah, nothing, nice to see some things never change."
Jones carried on making his brew when Taylor finally asked what he'd been meaning to for a while.
"Any news on Dubois?"
He nodded. "She's gonna make it, but she won't be joining the fight anytime soon."
"Good, she's been through enough."
"Haven't we all?"
As he watched Jones prepare his tea in his ritualistic fashion, they suddenly became aware how quiet the scene was. Gone were the sound of tracked vehicles, of explosions and screaming wounded. There was barely a sound left. Every single boot step could be heard for thirty metres around, and despite being in the middle of a warzone, Taylor felt calm and relaxed, even peaceful.
"Strange isn't it?" he asked.
"What's that?"
"How quiet it is out there."
"Yes, but don't get too used to it. It won't last."
He was right. There seemed little hope of holding the UEN back. Now all he could hope was that his appeal to the World's population would make a difference.
Chapter 8
"Incoming!"
A huge pulse of light soared through the sky and struck a building no more than twenty metres along from Taylor. It burst through and struck the road behind. Screams rang out, and as he looked up, he could see a few walking wounded stumbling around. He saw five dead in the crater that was left. They were just like the pulse artillery they saw the Mech armies use. Jones looked as horrified as he did when another two pulses smashed into their positions.
"Take cover!"
He jumped into the corner of the building he had been using as a firing position and huddled into a corner with Jones as low down in the structure as they could get. They knew all they could do now was hope for the best. The ground shook all around them, and they counted several dozen impacts smash their position. Finally it was over.
"Look!" someone cried excitedly.
Taylor couldn't believe anything good could be in sight, but he got up anyway. Hundreds of craft were soaring through the sky, but they were not coming from the east.
"Those aren't UEN," Jones said, standing up beside Taylor.
Mitch lifted his rifle and zoomed in the scope for a better look.
"My God, they're British."
Jones had to see for himself.
"Can't be!"
"It better be," replied Taylor.
A wave of ground attack craft smashed the enemy positions a few clicks east, and they could just make out troops dropping into the fight after them. A dozen craft came their way and put down out in the open plain of crippled vehicles and dead troops.
"Everyone stay put!"
Several of them looked at him puzzled.
"I want to know their intentions before anyone breaks cover!"
Five troops came out of one of the copters. An officer stood between and walked confidently towards Taylor's line. It was Commander Phillips.
"Colonel Taylor!" he called.
"Yeah! What's the deal here, Sir?"
"We just joined this war. We're in this together!"
Taylor couldn't believe his luck. He’d wanted it to be true from the moment he saw the aircraft but had become wary of getting his hopes up. He stepped out from the hole in the building to greet the Commander.
"You look like hell," said Phillips.
"I'm used to it."
"I'm sorry we couldn't come in on this sooner, Colonel, but we're here now."
Jones stepped out to join them, and Phillips looked astonished.
"Well, I'll be. You came back to us? What on Earth did Taylor have to promise you to get you back in the fight?"
"It doesn't matter," he replied, "but I am back for good."