Morgan & Rathbone
The next day at the castle was a break from the routine, normal training activities were suspended and instead everyone was expected to muck in getting the Fast Alien Response Teams ready. Everyone that is except Morgan, he just had to watch everyone else being busy and he noticed something odd. When saw an opportunity to assist he followed Lieutenant Rathbone who was inventorying ammunition. After a while he plucked up the courage to ask about what was bothering him.
“Look Sir I don’t get it. All the trainees and the new recruits are bouncing off the wall excited but you and the old hands just seem glum. Why is that?” Morgan asked whilst carrying big boxes of ammunition over to a collection of mortars. Rathbone indicated a place to put them then whilst trotting over to get the next set started to explain.
“They can land anywhere on earth is the problem. We are just going to have to put all this stuff back when they land somewhere else like the abo wastes or finally attack Antarctica and waste everyone’s time looking for penguins. The point is we have to do this but the odds are it is a waste of time”. Morgan looked at all the bustle and then shook his head slowly.
“So Sir we are going to do all this, then put it all back just on the off chance they land near enough for us to get in our jeeps and drive there before they go?” Rathbone nodded then pointed to where to collect from next. While they carried boxes labelled with strange acronyms he asked the next question without thinking “so they land in civilian areas, kill a bunch, spread unknown bio weapons, hide behind shields and then leave”. Lacking a question Rathbone made no comment, Morgan continued “Sir have they ever had proper pitched battle? That we know of?”
That got a response. Rathbone stopped and nodded. “Twice as a matter of fact, the earliest was in Algeria when a local warlord got his troops there. There was chaos and nobody was in overall charge. The aliens left in good order but it was the first sample of blood – I should be precise – untyped internal bodily fluids of the aliens obtained. The second was in Oklahoma six years later and has been called the charge of the rednecks. They landed at or near some sort of off road driving event, as soon as the bombardment ended pretty much everyone there produced some sort of gun and ran at them. A lot of them died but those are the only two times the aliens left sharpish out of 162 hard landings. Apparently local hunters still joke about finding exotic scat”
He grinned at Morgan “The key thing is we can fight them but we are scrabbling for clues about what works. We could fight and die to a man and if at the end of it we have a set of tactics it was worth it. So why are we glum? Because if this is not a waste of time then our generals are going to send us into a meat grinder just to see if our bones can break the cogs” . Morgan decided not to spend much more time asking questions and instead helped him inventory. It was work his experience as a shipping factor actually suited him for.
That night he could not sleep, Marie snored gently and Annie had closed her door much earlier. This was all getting real to him and he did not like the feeling of helplessness that it provoked. Sleep when it came was troubled.
Corporal Patel
Helen laced the boots again. British army boots were designed to deal with all sorts of battlefield conditions. They polished up to a really beautiful shine. What they did not do was come in a size best described as diminutive Indian lady. This was a constant problem and her eventual solution had been to cheat, Helen had gone and bought a custom made pair which she loved. They sat there mocking her at the other side of the room while she put on a pair of regulation issue clodhoppers.
The orders though had been clear, for this test she had to only use regulation kit. Apparently that would make the results more representative and thus more useful. Helen snorted as she thought about that, a quick straw poll had told her most of the non-coms had at least one piece of non regulation equipment that they routinely used. This objection like all the others had fallen on deaf ears and now here she was.
Ignoring the boot slippage when she walked the Burgan was placed on a side table and she moved backwards into it before securing the straps. At sixty kilos it was nearly heavier than she was and physical augmentation was only so much help when you kept falling over backwards. Checking her rifle was unloaded she took it and started walking round the room in circles making sure she would not embarrass herself later on the tactical advance to battle (TAB) exercise. Moving the rifle to port arms position she fell over as the momentum destroyed her precarious balance.
Lying on the floor she looked at her clock. Gritting her teeth she got up and started again. For some reason her duty lay not in preparing for battle but in spending the next day finding out what one squad could do. Stupid annoying and not a task she would give anything less than her best to.
Training company wood were used to strange disturbances in the basic training. Depending on your point of view they were either cursed or blessed to have been assigned together with Oxbridge and had become sucked up with the confusion around what he could do. They had been blessed with even more abilities than the standard SCAR recruit but because of that the training regimen had just been shot to hell. They would be lucky if they avoided being recycled through basic and today showed no signs of helping. Instructed to fall in with full battle kit they were now waiting for an explanation. As Corporal Patel approached the sense of expectation was combined with some amusement watching her carry a rucksack that looked actually bigger than her. None of them were foolish enough to think she could not handle it, just amused at the spectacle.
Corporal Patel marched up confidently and put her Burgan down on the ground while indicating everyone to gather round. When they did she started to explain.
“Ok everyone. You have all done tactical advance to battle drills but just to remind people who might have tried to avoid it, Simmons that means you should pay attention, advance at speed to a battlefield environment and then perform an accuracy test. The accuracy test is to fire ten rounds each into targets at thirty, fifty and eighty metres. You must hit eight out of ten rounds in each target and complete the firing within five minutes of completing the march. However good news we are special!”
As she knew it would that brought a groan, those words always led to some extra work. That was a trend that she was not going to change today. Helen continued “With us all having gained superhuman strength and endurance the army is keen to see what we can do. We will spend the next couple of days performing various TAB drills. The first few will be to see how fast we can do a standard TAB distance and still pass the battlefield test. Obviously the bright boys in the science building think they know what we can do but this is the army! Why work it out when you can send privates to wade through mud. What that means and again Simmons I am looking at you is that we do have a target standard and if you fall below it you will have to explain why you are shirking. Any questions?”
There was a general shuffling of feet and groans then Brody voiced the feelings of them all “so we just run between target ranges in full battle rattle and the reward for doing it well is being told to do it again faster?” .
Helen grinned “Bright boy – thought I might have to dumb it down for you. If its any consolation I have to do it with you”. The squad ignored that whatever positive message that was meant to convey and started to help each other put the Burgan’s on.
Foxwell approached her to help and while doing that whispered to her “Corp the bastards are looking to drop somewhere in Europe and we have to shoot targets?”. Helen whispered back “James this is a training unit – what did you expect. Look I promise if they land in front of us orders be damned we’ll gut em, ok?”. A quick grunt was her only response and he left to put his own kit on.
Major Channing
Waiting was the one part of the job where Colonel Faulkner had to exert tight discipline over himself. The initial tracking had localised landing spots to north Europe but he had been waiting for a more precise estimate. It was the one occasion when the mountain of paperwork the army seemed to generate was useful, it gave him a chance to look useful rather than climbing the walls. Luckily that particular wait was over.
Colonel Faulkner looked up from to the memo being handed to him by Major Channing. The man looked ready to explode with glee and given the nature of his predilections that meant someone was about to have a bad day. He had rushed past Rupert and having declared that he had important news was now waiting for consent to continue. Waving his hand he sat back and waited. The wait was not long as Donal immediately started to talk, maybe even babble. “Sir the tracking is in, on the raid ship, trackings in they are coming here.” Faulkner jerked up “What, England? Where?”.
Donal just waved his arms all around and repeated “Here sir. Here”. Faulkner felt his pulse quicken “What you mean they are going to land close enough for our response teams?”. “Sir yes sir” Channing replied “and within the hour if they keep the same insertion profile as they normally do”. Faulkner sat back now sharing the same grin “Well saddle up then and good hunting”. Channing saluted and then heel turned leaving the room. Faulkner called to Rupert “Get me the MOD on the line. Were about to spend some money!”
Channing left the office and headed to the comms office. Barging in he shouted “Sound general quarters. Get the fast alien response teams on the line, its time to earn the jokes”. With a perfectly straight face one of the privates asked “Sir how many farts do you want in the room?”. Channing ignored the sniggers “All of them. Oh and soldier, three days AP for every one of them that dies today. Anyone else want to give me guff?”. It took six minutes to get five hard looking men into the room.
A map had been laid out on the table and circles had been drawn on a clear sheet. Channing and the five squad leaders stared at the map and finally a hulking man with a moustache that he must have spent ages grooming said what they were all thinking. “Wow. We are right in the middle of that circle. How confident are we about these landing areas?”. Channing shook his head “It would be mad for them to land here. I mean nice for us but mad for them to land here. Ok we are about to have a hard landing no earlier than 40 minutes and no later than fifty two minutes from now” While they all looked at watches he continued “Civilian authorities inside the green circle have been notified but you gentlemen be ready to deploy. Standard rules of engagement for a drop. It is a free fire zone with the priority to render the hostiles unable to continue. Of secondary concern is artefacts for the boffins and engineers. Lastly minimise casualties. You have your orders. Go.” They left at a run and Channing moved onto the next problem.
Ten minutes later whilst authorising the release of live ammunition to all base personnel he got orders to return to the Colonel. Looking round he pointed to a lieutenant “take over, the boss wants me” and he ran to the Colonels office waved through by Rupert. Inside was a scan tech with the revised landing information that Channing had been waiting for, suppressing irritation he glanced at it then ignoring protocol walked over and snatched it out of her hands. The circle had got small, really small. About ten miles across. The only thing inside the 50% circle was Pederville castle. Ignoring what others were saying he also noted the text above it “Three bogeys? Its always one, how can there be three bogies?”. Colonel Faulkner shook his shoulder “Damn it Donal pay attention. I see you have the most important information. I have been ordered to evac with the science teams and I’ll be taking an escort. Everything else is yours. You’re in command. Revised landing time soldier?” The tech jumped and looked at her pad “twenty six minutes sir plus or minus ninety seconds”. Faulkner gripped him on the shoulder “Good luck, good hunting, give em hell” and then left. Channing watched him leave “What the fu..” with an effort he stopped himself then looking at Rupert “I’m really in charge?” Rupert looked round then looked back uncomfortably “apparently”.
The first thing he did was issue the evacuate to safety order for all non combatants. He closed his eyes for a second then issued his next order “Anyone including the recruits who has passed basic marksmanship gets live ammo. Then everyone goes to ground. I doubt if they are coming in triplicate they will forget to soften up the target first like they have done every other hard landing. Everybody to the command in the basement. Chop chop now folks” Clapping his hands the room burst into action and he called out to one” Rathbone, mortars. I want twenty tubes ready for orders. Get EWS and HiEx. Ignore frag”. For the next few minutes Channing stood amid bedlam directing the chaos. Eventually Rupert waved his arm pointing to a wristwatch and they emptied the room going to a secure bunker.
Morgan
Morgan woke before the rest of the household, he had not had much sleep but that was just what he was going to have to deal with. Annie woke first and hogged the bathroom much to Marie’s annoyance. Eventually the squabbling was resolved and they both left for the day. Stacking plates in the sink he stopped and decided to follow Annie. He did not want her alone today, she would have to put up with being moithered by her Dad. He set out leaving the dirty dishes behind him.
There was a hodge podge of people who had gathered around in Alan’s Snackbar chatting and stressing whilst ordering just enough to avoid getting thrown out. Morgan was actually relieved that people had come here to worry, joining them gave him an excuse to be near Annie. It did mean he had to listen to everyone telling him how things were either going to go or supposed to go. At the moment Poppy was wearing a helmet proudly emblazoned with CSDO and explaining how vitally important she was. “Oh yes everyone in the civilian support committee agree I should be the door officer, its the most important job. I close the bunker doors to keep biological agents out. I’m very important” Nodding agreeably he let her burble on; looking round he realised he was looking at a who’s who of the officers’ wives association. More that most of them were carrying well stuffed tote bags and those that were open included helmets just like Poppy’s though with different lettering.
Realising he may have misjudged the mood he looked round again, they still all looked tense but rather than worried they looked impatient. What they were impatient for was revealed when a siren sounded giving five short blasts with a short pause then repeating. All the ladies started to put helmets on and produce whistles, it appeared to be mayhem but they split into six teams of three and left the cafe in two minutes. A group of eight people remained behind including himself, Alan, Annie, Carly, Poppy and three he did not recognise. Carly took charge.
“Right Alan, open the emergency stores and take them with you to the bunker. Poppy doors, open them and take names as they enter.” She reached into her bag and threw some keys at one of the ladies unknown to Morgan “Annabelle armoury keys. Take charge of weapons. Rachel get in now and vermin sweep each room” Everyone named started moving and Carly pointed to Him and Annie “you two help carry supplies to the bunker” and then she swept out presumably to carry out some sort of pre planned task.
Looking at Annie he shrugged and they joined Alan loading up on food and water.
Morgan had no idea how many non combatants made Pederville home but there was a steady stream of people heading towards the secure site. Nobody dawdled and many of them looked up, Morgan wondered if he was behind on the rumour mill. Ahead he saw Wendy supervising some walking wounded into the bunker while an RN gave names to Poppy who was wielding her clipboard like a shield.
Annie stopped twenty paces from the entry “No” was all she said. Alan kept on bringing the supplies in and waving to Poppy but Morgan grabbed Annie by her arm and started to pull. She resisted “Dad no, I’m not going there” wrenching her arm free.
Morgan stopped and looked round. Wendy was approaching holding something behind her back but he asked her instead “what’s the problem, we need to get into shelter and fast”. There was a rising tone of panic in his voice which made the calm patience of her reply discordant.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Annie smiled and said “Rookie mistake Dad. People die in bunkers. I’ve seen it, people die in bunkers. I won’t die in a bunker it’s that simple”. His mind racing he was relieved to see Wendy approaching, this surely was something she could talk her round on. Quickly would be good.
Wendy smiled at Annie as she approached “ok I can see you are scared, do you remember the breathing techniques? Box breaths, keep the count”. She approached warmly and giving a confident smile lashed out with the syringe filled with enough sedative to tranc an elephant. There was simply not time for this shit. Unfortunately Annie was not as out of it as she had looked, and with her one good arm grabbed the syringe.
Morgan watched them approach each other and then start to wrestle he approached hesitantly trying to work out who he should be helping. While he approached a clang sounded to his right, all three stopped and turned to stare at the bunker door locking. Poppy Mouthed “sorry” through the glass and then left the door. Annie sighed in relief, Wendy ran to the door syringe forgotten and started to hammer on it screaming the word bitch, Morgan looked up frowning watching lines in the sky forming, coming closer.
“voice – please project on my vision projected impact points” he said, neither of the two ladies paying attention. A second after that he grabbed Annie and carrying like a huge rag doll ran at Wendy. He grabbed her round her midriff and tossed them both with considerable force behind a concrete planter filled with flowers. Throwing himself on top of them the world went white.
Corporal Patel
The first TAB had been simple enough, even non specials could TAB 6 miles in ninety minutes. The second had been easy as well even though the permitted time had been dropped by ten minutes. Each repetition had dropped the time by the same interval and after doing it three times they now had less than an hour to run cross country and perform the fire test. The complaints were just starting to shift from good natured quiet grumbles onto normal speaking tones with not so good natured snide remarks at people being accused of not pulling their weight. Helen was just getting ready to interject when MacAdam stopped and pointed up.
“Corp are those what they look like?” he asked. Helens insides started to roil as she saw something that she had only seen once before in her childhood. Vapour trails coming straight down and lots of them. The whole squad had stopped and were looking at the trails, only Helen and James had got past the shock and started to try to guess the impact points. They both worked it out at roughly the same time and it would have needed some sort of referee to know who first started to shout “GET DOWN”.
Helen had the responsibility for the squad and so unlike Foxwell did not dive for the ground instead grabbed Brody who was slow to react and threw him down shouting some obscenities about having cloth ears. The shock wave caught her knocking her off her feet and to the ground. Combining the shock wave and the slide in the slick grass she ended up a metre away from Brody lying on her back arms and legs kicking futilely as the Burgan kept her off the ground.
There were several other flashes but they were oddly quiet, when Ronnie and Issac came over to help her up and she could not hear them the silence made sense. Pulled to her feet it appeared as though Foxwell was pulling them together – his experience in the regular army was paying dividends with her incapacitated – so she scrambled over.
Ignoring the attempts to talk to here she shouted “EARS BLOWN. I CANT HEAR ANYTHING RIGHT NOW. LETS GET BACK TO BASE SEE IF WE CAN BE USEFUL”. Foxwell seemed to want to argue but shrugged and started everyone moving. As she set off at least nominally in charge she watched the drop ships appear in the sky. Her mind refused to accept what her eyes were telling her, the aliens were trying to eliminate SCAR with a drop right on Pederville.
For a normal squad a two mile cross country sprint into a combat zone was just a dumb idea, wood squad were looking to do it in ten minutes. Not only was that looking realistic the time was giving Helen time to get her hearing back. Her enhanced senses were not at full peak but they allowed her to be the first to spy the landed dropship right ahead of them with Aliens streaming out.
Helen looked at Foxwell then grinned “well I guess I promised”.
Major Channing
Channing felt the impacts starting as he came in the secondary command room. Everything shook but nobody got scared or flustered. This is what they were here for. Wild fire was not going to scare them. The bombardment was mercifully short though whether it felt that way to those without shelter did not bear thinking about. After it stopped there was a moment of silence then somebody started talking demanding damage reports, suddenly everyone was on a radio getting reports on casualties and damages. For some reason Rupert seemed to have attached himself to Channing so he turned to him and said “you know these bombardments always puzzle me – they do remarkably little damage overall.” Rupert looked incredulous “Do others share that analysis sir. I mean it looks impressive to me sir” Channing nodded “Yes it looks impressive but if you compare it to what you could do it is very much minor. Its a standard part of the officers training course these days to speculate why they go to such lengths to do something so utterly ineffective” .Three great booms in rapid succession filled the room and Channing nodded “Ok here we go”
A map of the estates had been found and displayed with the ever present clear overlay and somebody was marking on unit locations. Looking at what he had with grim satisfaction he said nothing until the location of the first landing craft was marked. Asking for his response team locations and the nearest regular units he then ordered them to hold fire until the other two sites were confirmed. The other two locations were marked in the next twenty seconds and he started to issue orders. “Ok mark these sites as Tom Dick and Harry. Convey the fire co-ordinates of Dick to the mortar teams, on my mark they are to fire three rounds, EWS followed by two Hi-Ex then fall back and await counter battery. Response teams one, three four and five go to Tom and engage once mortar fire begins. Response team two will go to Harry and avoid engagement until we have reports on efficacy of mortars and some idea of how things are going at Tom.”
As radios were activated and orders conveyed Rupert stared blankly at the map, Channing took mercy and explained “EWS – electronic warfare smoke. Confuse sensors. Drop High explosive rounds on them while they try to work out what’s happening then run away from the mortars in case they are good at this and fire back. Each response team has different weapon loads and the current doctrine is high speed passes in armoured vehicles firing into them with evaluation being performed by observers in cover. We know they have force fields but they have occasionally reacted by retreating from sustained fire, the assumption is they can be overloaded. Our task is to find out if specific effects are more productive – the different load outs on each response team – or if just sheer overwhelming force is required. The mortars. Does that make sense?” Rupert nodded and asked “Team two?” and Channing grimaced. “They are equipped with flame throwers. Absurdly close range and really only feasible on foot. The chances of them surviving the test are, well lets leave that test to last. Until then keep observations on the enemy”.
Blanching Rupert looked round and observed “everyone seems almost cheerful. I get professional and calm but happy?”
Channing nodded “everyone here has spent years dreaming, planning and scheming about how to get these feffers into a kill box. Then they land in the middle of our base. I feel like going to church. We are either going to slaughter these things so quickly its embarrassing or we genuinely can’t do anything to them .My wager? Crispy critters.” The laughter round the room made Rupert realise that perhaps he had not been the intended target of that speech especially as the major made no attempt to stop it.
Forward observers at each site had set up video feeds and it appeared that the aliens were following there usual doctrine. They had exited the landing crafts at speed and gathered together in groups of sixteen whilst one waved its arms about. It was assumed to be a boss giving orders but many of the people in the command room seemed almost disappointed by it. Channing was on a radio haranguing somebody when he suddenly said “ok we cant wait any longer Mortars fire on Dick. Tom engage, team four will have to join in when they get there. Tally Ho, Tally ho”.
Corporal Patel
Patel had led the squad to cover in a nearby gully and they were now all lying down observing the landed alien vessel. Trying hard to think of a description Helen could only really think of a swiss roll on a plate. The ship looked like a disc with a round pod off centre that looked like a series of rings inside rings. As strange and inefficient as that looked to her eyes it had adequately landed and disgorged a group of aliens roughly twenty strong. They had all rushed into a clearing and now appeared to be standing around doing ... nothing. And that was what was causing problems.
Helen kept her head down even whilst trying to furiously glare at Foxwell and MacAdams. “Both of you get back. We will fight as a squad not as vigilantes or thugs” she hissed at them. The problem was they were not taking her orders as orders and had started to debate.
“look corp” MacAdam hissed in reply “I understand the ships valuable I really do. Its just this is payback y’know. We can kill a few and you can take the ship. No harm no foul” .
Helen pulled back in shock “you really think that? Leaving your post, abandoning your squad during a battle. That’s called desertion in the face of the enemy. I may not have leaves on my shoulders or pips on my collar but I am the ranking person present and I have given you an order soldier”. She glared at them both but despite this being the most extreme thing she could do short of shooting them they just weren’t listening.
Foxwell shook his head slowly “Corp. I don’t think you mean it. I just don’t. And its a chance I will take. MacAdam you’re on my left ten metres”. They left stooped low running towards the assembled enemy. Brody whispered with horror in his voice “did they just fix bayonets?”. Helen raised the rifle sighting on MacAdam and left it there for a few seconds before giving up with a sigh.
“Ok we were going to plan but our timetable just got shit on. Dorcastle, Smith you two are with me. We are going to rush the door. Hargreaves, Simmons and Williams you will hang back here setting up a fire point and prevent any Aliens from interfering in our assault. Everyone the rules of engagement are this is a free fire zone. There is no such thing as overkill, we cannot be sure targets will fall when hit. Now just give me a minute”. Helen reached down and took her boots off, looking round at the confused faces she grinned “live long enough and I will explain that. Die and you will never know”.
There really was no time for anyone to complain and they dashed to the ship Dorcastle easily outpacing Patel and Smith. When they got closer the details of the ship were clearer, there was a single Hatch with an alien outside who seemed to be arranging what looked like coloured bin bags into piles. Oblivious to what was going on round it Dorcastle ran past it and running to the hatch pivoted round dropping to one knee fire two bursts into the Alien. His momentum allowed him to keep sliding and his enhanced reactions allowed him to smoothly stand and run to the hatch pressing the button that seemed to be the only control. Nothing happened. He tried again. Again nothing happened. He turned round to ask for instructions and saw an alien looming over him two enormous energy blades in its hands.
Smith though also an enhanced speed type was keeping pace with the corporal, he was using his time to pull items out of his personal storage spaces. For the purpose of the exercise it had been deemed that dimensional storage spaces should be at least two thirds full and all sorts had been thrown in there. Certainly far more than Smith had kept track of so he was drawing stuff out and trying to work out whether he could use it before either returning it to the space or throwing it away. When he saw Dorcastles flashy move he initially thought about clapping – that was cool as F. But then both he and Patel saw that he had not checked the target was down. Worse the target was getting back up. Even worse the target had got back up and now seemed to be creating energy swords? Not light sabres they made him think of pirate swords.
Smith put on a burst of speed, stretching his abilities in a way he had been nervous to do before and ran straight into the Alien from behind pushing it forward squashing it and Dorcastle against the hull. It made some sort of whistling noise and then one of its arms grabbed him and threw him bodily a few feet back. The Alien rippled seeming like it was shaking itself and then oriented on Smith approaching and raising its blades.
A circular two metre round barrier about three inches thick appeared between the alien and Smith as Patel finally got close. The alien recoiled for a second and then cut into the barrier with its sword. The barrier split easily down the side slashed and a burst of glowing energy washed over the Alien while Patel turned round and ran the hell away.
The alien stood there. It just stood there, and then one of its swords disappeared. A leg started to wobble but it was a different one that gave way. When it collapsed the other sword disappeared and it lay there twitching. Dorcastle stood up the effects of being squashed visibly healing and with a confused expression waved his hand at the alien “Whats happened to it?” he enquired to the world at large.
Patel shouted her answer “My barriers-Low dominance so easy to slice through. Bad news unless you put multiple full intensity radiation sources inside and then let them all discharge at once through a sudden hole in the barrier. Channing reckoned they would be booby traps for Aliens”.
Smith shouted “Clever. Why did you run over there?” .Patel shouted back “better question, why are you hanging round multiple lethal sources of radiation?”. Any further comments were drowned out by the sounds of either a small artillery or large mortar barrage on the Alien group nearest to them. Diving to the ground and hoping no strays came near Patel stayed down for ten seconds after the sound of the barrage stopped and took a look around. Smith and Dorcastle ignoring the barrage had gone to the hatch and were trying to open it. Idiots. More confusing Hargreaves, Simmons and Williams seemed to have got out of position and were walking casually over.
As they approached Williams shouted “they got em, nobody to provide covering fire against, not any more”. Patel felt like weeping, they were recruits admittedly but they should be smarter than this.
“none THAT YOU KNOW OF. Any possibility in all that smoke you might have missed something. By all the gods. By all the gods”. The three of them suddenly looked uncertain and after some dithering started to turn back until she shouted them to stop “you’re here now. Go get the Alien and search him for a key or badge or something to open that door. Oh and if I forget or buy it get checked for radiation later”.
Major Channing
Mortar fire is rarely precise but it looked like Rathbone had outdone himself today as sixteen of the twenty smoke landed amidst the gathered aliens and the four strays were all within twenty metres. As the multi coloured smoke billowed out Channing muttered “I should have specified colour” but the almost pretty rainbow cloud was dispersed by explosive hell. This salvo was not as precise but the next salvo started arriving just as the screen cut out. The private at the feed anticipated the query “Sir the EWS is blocking our signal, we cant see anything now”. Channing nodded and looked to the screen showing pictures of Tom. A group of four jeeps with some sort of huge machine gun mounted at the rear were roaring towards the assembled aliens. When they opened fire two went down, one was injured and one was unconcerned by bullets ploughing into the ground in front of it. Despite the initial successes that was all the team managed to achieve as observers reported bullets seemed to be hitting some sort of barrier a few inches away from the Aliens. As they drove away reports from Dick came back. There were no remaining aliens standing and two squads had been assigned to check the area. This time when people started cheering Channing exploded “QUIET – WE STILL HAVE MORE TO DO, GET BACK TO YOUR JOBS”. Turning back to the cameras at Tom he watched the next team go in, again vehicle mounted weapons this time it appeared to be some sort of miniature artillery. All they managed to do was die as the shells again hit the barriers but at least a few of the aliens had the presence of mind to return fire. Team three were entirely without force fields and only two of the four jeeps managed to withdraw.
Channing called over a lieutenant “Do you think more firepower is going to help” he asked. The lieutenant stood silent for a moment then “The mortars worked. Was it the EWS? Might have interfered with the forcefield. Sir I know we are taking casualties but finding out what works is what this battle is for. I say stay the course and test it all. We all know the army needs to save on pensions. Sir even if we achieve not another jot you do realise this is the first time, I mean absolutely the first time these bastards have taken casualties? We have proven it’s possible. That’s a big deal sir. Keep your nerve”. Channing dismissed him with a nod and then glanced at Rupert “Did you get all that?”. Rupert sounded confused “What do you mean?”. With a shake of his head Channing picked up a radio “Stay the course, next sortie please”.
The next two sorties from team five (short range lasers) and then four (multiple belt fed grenade launchers) who had eventually arrived were similarly unsuccessful. The aliens at Harry had started to approach the castle but stopped when the mortars had wiped out the group at Dick and now appeared to be shouting at each other. Whistling tunelessly Channing looked at screen Harry at them milling about and mused out loud “how long will they stay in such a nice tight group. Its nice to see what panic looks like isn’t it. Somebody get Rathbone and give him that grid reference, lets see how they react to bed wetting terror. Same loadout, lets not argue with success”.
Lieutenant Rathbone
Rathbone was elated, being part of the first group to ever kill these raiding bastards simply had to get him laid. The mortar teams were all trying to remain professional but much alcohol was going to be sacrificed to their vanity it was obvious. They all braced themselves to dash to the mortars they had left behind running for cover earlier. It was time to prove that it hadn’t been a fluke. Rathbone dropped his hand and they all started to run. The Ground shook and there was an enormous beam of light coming down from the sky for several seconds. When it was over a hole fifty metres across had been dug down for several metres in the area covering the mortar emplacements. The mortars and the people were all gone mixed with the dust in the air.
Major Channing
Channing was quiet when he got the report of the alien death ray. He stared at the floor then looked around ‘Ok, they have the high ground and we have to assume are in contact. From now on we either hug the enemy or go to concealment. Talking about close quarters order team two to engage group Harry’ Somehow in the hubbub this was enough to cause a moment of silence but the orders were issued and the noise levels resumed. They were professionals, they would mourn later.
