“Going in hot without any fire support or armour, Colonel?”
“Got a better idea, Captain Grey?”
They both knew he was making it up as he went along, but neither could see any other options. They were down to improvising and overcoming all that was presented to them.
“This isn’t going to be pretty,” Spears whispered quietly.
They took a sharp turn into one of the open landing bays. There was only emergency lighting on and it cast long shadows. They could see glimmers of movement below, but nobody fired. It was clear no one had yet identified them as friend or foe, but Mitch couldn’t bear being stuck in the metal coffin any longer.
“Put us down!”
Spears obliged, and they descended quickly to a bumpy ride and slid to a halt.
“Nice…” stated Grey.
“Hey, you want to fly next time, be my guest,” cracked Spears.
Herbert was first at the door and punched the release switch. His face was still covered in his own blood, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. He was eager and raring to go. He leapt out first and Taylor was close behind.
“What are we looking for?” asked Grey.
“Wherever all hell is breaking lose. That’s where we’ll find Jones.”
That wasn’t much to go on, but he got the idea. Taylor was still surprised nobody had started shooting at them. There was still a little movement further on down the bay, but the lighting was too low for them to be made out.
“We’re in luck.”
Grey shook his head. “You call us lucky, Colonel? I call us mugs.”
Taylor got going, hoping in desperation that some of his marines were still alive. Although he was with comrades there and then, the closest of all his friends were somewhere deep inside the vessel and in God knows what state.
“You think they’re still alive?”
“Of course, Jones, Jafar, Parker, Silva? They wouldn’t go down lightly."
They all wanted to believe it was true, but none of them were immortal, no matter how much the World called them such. The room narrowed to a corridor barely a few people wide, and as they approached, they heard footsteps from a merging corridor. Taylor stopped and rested easy while the others held their rifles ready to fire. A few German marines appeared at the corridor merging with theirs and heading the same direction.
“You! Stop there!”
They did as Taylor had ordered, to everyone’s surprise.
“Where are you heading, marine?”
The man looked uneasy, but looked at Taylor’s rank and clearly felt compelled to answer.
“We’re still fighting on F23L, Sir. They’re dug in, and we haven’t been able to shift them. We have been drafted in from the Bremen to assist.”
As he was about to finish, Taylor drew his pistol, put it to the man’s head, and grabbed him into an arm lock. The rest of his marines seemed too shocked to respond when Grey and several others jumped into view with rifles held ready to fire.
“I am Colonel Mitch Taylor of the Inter-Allied Regiment. This fight is over. It is over because I said it is. And any man or woman who decides to stand in my way will be killed, like all others who do so! Lay down your weapons and return to your ships!”
It was a gutsy approach, but he could only hope his fearful reputation might mean something. Not one of the marines had even raised a weapon to fight back. They had no will to fight. Taylor could see they were utterly demoralised by the war already and had no willpower to fight.
“Turn and walk away is all I ask!”
He holstered his pistol and let the marine go.
“Thank you,” the man replied, “We will not interfere.”
Taylor watched as they turned and left with weapons still in hand. It gave him hope that humanity might yet unite once again.
“How on Earth did you pull that off?” asked Grey.
“Some of us have it, Captain, and some of us don’t,” he replied smugly. “Come on, let’s move.”
They knew where to go now, and Taylor was rushing through the corridors and ramps without any concern for his own safety. Herbert was starting to wonder if anything mattered to him in life besides their Regiment.
“You know what he did back on that defence platform?” he asked Grey.
“I got some idea. Doesn’t sound smart to me, but what do I know? I wasn’t there, and I didn’t know the options he faced. Have faith in the Colonel. He’s seen us through this far.”
“It’s not faith in the Colonel I lack; it’s faith in our ability to handle what’s coming next.”
“What do you mean?”
“Erdogan.”
Grey’s face turned to stone at the name.
“You saw him?”
“A hologram, yes.”
“Then he’s here, and we’re in deep shit.”
Grey spoke nothing more of it, knowing they must focus on the task at hand, but he could not let the feeling go at the back of his mind that they were in for a world of hurt like they had never known before.
Erdogan? Taylor thought. How could we ever be so stupid to think he wouldn’t come for us? If Earth is really the paradise they seek, why would they not come?
Shadows appeared ahead of them, and it made Taylor tighten his grip on his rifle. He stopped for a moment and took aim, but the figures continued to run towards him. He could see no weapons. Then they came into view, and he could see it was two pairs of medics. They were carrying stretchers with wounded. He looked down and both casualties were German marines. It brought a little smirk to his face, as he knew who was the cause. But it soon dissipated when he thought of the casualties their own side must have suffered.
They passed on through corridor after corridor and descended many levels until they heard gunfire. They knew they were getting close. Taylor just prayed there were enough left to save.
“Stop right there!” a voice boomed.
He could see an officer at the head of a platoon.
Don’t make me do this.
His own battle-hardened troops were far better armoured than their opponents and quickly took up positions. Taylor sighed; he was wary of announcing his presence and not getting the response he wanted, but he thought it was worth a chance one last time.
“I am Colonel Taylor of the Inter-Allied Regiment, European Alliance. You are ordered to stand down!”
“Taylor? We’ve been fighting Taylor the last hour, so who the hell are you?”
The officer stepped forward to address him and looked down at his uniform with Jones’ name.
“What kind of trick are you playing here, Captain? Taylor is in there, and it’s our job to capture him, alive if possible.”
Taylor could see the man was a Captain of the Nassau’s Marine detachment. He was now looking with more interest at Taylor’s nametag.
“Captain…Jones. You are with them. You are under arrest. Lay down your weapons!”
“Listen to me!”
“There is nothing to listen to, Captain. You are under arrest!”
“Arrest? This is a war, you fucking idiot. You ain’t arresting AWOL idiots.”
“Take aim!” ordered the Marine Captain.
Without hesitation, Taylor ripped his pistol from its holster and fired three shots from muscle memory. The room went silent again, and all they could hear was the distant gunfire. The Captain fell forward into his arms, and he lowered him to the floor. A few shots were fired from the German side, and Taylor could do nothing but lift his shield and wait it out while his own side returned fire. Gunfire zipped back and forth for two minutes until all was silent once again, and he got to his feet.