Taylor drew out a flashbang from his armour and held it for just a second while he gave out his orders through their comms. “Flash, then forward.” It was simple, but he knew they would understand exactly what he meant. He threw out the grenade, and the vast room was lit up with a blinding glow. He knew many of their attackers would have had time to get to cover, but it was better than nothing. He leapt out with his shield held before him and rushed forward.
As he closed the distance, he could see the cover they were using also limited the arc of fire of their enemy, and he was heading for just two enemy combatants. It was enough to spur him on in the knowledge his shield would protect him. As he ran, he threw a frag grenade with all the strength his suit would afford him. It bounced along the floor in front of him. One of the soldiers leapt for cover, but the other had not noticed.
The Colonel was little more than five metres from the grenade when it ignited. The soldier disappeared in the blast. Taylor felt the impact halve his pace and almost cause him to be thrown from his feet. He reached the source of the blast where the body of the fallen soldier was sprawled out across the ground and riddled with shrapnel, but as he turned to find the other, his helmet connected with a gun barrel.
“Don’t move!”
He tilted his head just a few millimetres, enough to see hit attacker. The rifle barrel was touching his face and would be enough to kill him, should the soldier fire. He looked down at the man’s uniform to see he was a member of Col Moshin, the 9th Parachute Assault Battalion. He had heard of the Italian Special Forces but never met them. It got questions rolling around in his head about their mission, but he knew he must first deal with the matter at hand.
Taylor wanted to reveal who he was and try to plead with the man to see sense, but he knew he could not. His identity must remain a secret for as long as possible.
“What are you doing here?” asked Taylor. “Do you want to see whole cities wiped out by these weapons?”
“Put down your weapon!” the soldier replied.
“You have to know you’re on the wrong side in this war?”
“Put down your weapon!” he yelled, just a few decibels higher.
A man who stuck to his principles, something which could be respected in all other walks of life, except when they were Taylor’s enemy. Harris rushed into view with several other of his platoon. The Italian soldier pulled Taylor in close, using him as a human shield.
“Let him go!” screamed Harris. His faceplate was raised from where he was clearly trying to get a little more air than his suit was providing. Taylor wished he could have such a luxury. Harris looked ready to fire at a moment's notice, and that was never going to endear the Italian to them.
“Put down your weapons or he dies.”
There was no option left but for Taylor to get out of it himself. His rifle was slung on his back and out of reach, and he could not stretch across his Assegai or reach down for his sidearm without raising attention. His shield was still attached to his arm, and he knew it was his best bet. He looked down to see the Italian’s foot beside him, and in one quick action smashed the shield down onto his foot.
The impact was hard enough it cracked the cap of the boot and crushed several bones in the man’s foot. He screamed in pain as he fell back, and his rifle fired a single shot that went only a few centimetres high of the Colonel. Taylor swung the shield around. He smashed it with both hands into the man, knocked him off his feet, and launched him into the air until his head connected with a support beam. His body passed beneath, snapping his neck, and he dropped limply to the floor.
He turned back and could see Harris looking impressed, although he would never admit it. He was surprised the action had been over so quick.
“How many were there?”
“Four.”
“Four? That was it?”
He knew in that moment that they were good. They had presented the image of a much larger threat than they really were, and against most other units it would have worked. But Taylor was either too experienced or too desperate to have been stopped by the danger.
“What the hell are they even doing up here? Special Forces on a guard duty?”
“I don’t think they were sent here to guard anything. I think they were sent to hunt whoever came aboard, and I’d be willing to bet we’ll see plenty more trouble coming our way before this is over.”
* * *
“How much longer do we have to hold?”
“Until the job is done, Parker!” snapped Jones.
He rose up from their barricade and fired a few more shots. As he ducked back down, he was suddenly struck with how bizarre it felt to fight an enemy who were fearful of advancing and scared of death.
Fighting humans isn’t all bad, he thought to himself, but he soon realised he didn’t believe it. Parker slid back her visor to let some air in.
“Think Taylor made it?”
Jones wanted to believe he had, the same as the rest of them.
“If anyone can do it, he can.”
At least it was what Parker wanted to hear.
The gunfire from their enemy suddenly stopped, and with it, so did their own as they no longer had any targets. Jones knew they hadn’t beaten their attackers, so it only made him feel uncomfortable.
“What are they doing?” asked Herrera.
“Whatever it is, it can’t be good,” replied Parker.
As she said it, they heard the familiar heavy footsteps of Mech soldiers stomping towards them. Parker shook her head in disbelief. “Not this again.”
Gunshots rang out before she’d even finished, and they were quick to respond. Jones took aim when he saw dozens of Mechs were pouring towards them. As they knocked a few down, they could see human soldiers behind, using the Mechs as a screen to cover ground. Explosions rang out, hitting all around them, and they were soon engulfed in smoke used to further screen the enemy advance.
Seconds later, a Mech rushed through the smoke over their barricade and came at Jones, firing and with no intent to stop. Jones leapt out of the line of fire and smashed the Mech’s weapon aside with the barrel of his own, but it was not enough to stop the charge of the creature. It tumbled into him and knocked him to the ground, toppling onto him and almost crushing him to death.
Jones struck forward at the faceplate of the Mech’s armour, but his hardest strike was not enough to break through. He tried to reach for his Assegai, but he was pinned under the alien and its weapon. It raised itself up for just a moment so that it could strike down with a thunderous blow towards his head. It would have been enough to crush his helmet and kill him instantly.
He took the split second opportunity he had to kick up with his legs and throw the Mech sideways. The creature's fist smashed into the floor barely a few centimetres from his head and dented the floor beside him. He drew his Assegai with his left hand and thrust it into the creature’s stomach. It recoiled in pain, but then spun around and struck out with its last breath. The strike hit Jones’ helmet and knocked him out cold.
* * *
Taylor was still on the move and every second praying they could make it in time. It was still a long way to the centre of the vast facility when they came up against warning signs of high explosives. He stopped; they were inside a vast missile silo.
“These go off with gunfire?” he asked.
Sergeant Herbert shrugged his shoulders, as none of them knew for sure.
“All right, we can’t take the chance. Rifles down. Nobody fires a shot until we’re free and clear.”
He let his rifle hang down at his side and drew out his Assegai.