a soldier who would have looked more at home by Taylor's side than in a war room. Their vehicle came to a halt twenty metres back from the welcome party. As they climbed off, they saw General White step off one of the ships and approach Heath. Taylor continued right on up to them, and White quickly turned to address him.
"Colonel Taylor, this is General Heath, US Army."
Heath looked to be in his early fifties and stood eye to eye with Mitch. His face was pot-holed and rough, as if it had been riddled with shrapnel. He was in fighting shape and wore full Reitech gear, being an almost mirror of Mitch himself, though his helmet was off and revealing his almost bald head that had just a little grey hair either side.
"Of all the places we could have met before, Colonel, I can't think of anywhere I would rather have had you on side if a shit storm comes our way, than right here now!"
Taylor smiled.
I like this General already, he thought.
"We have no more time for pleasantries. Gentlemen, please follow me."
He stopped for a moment and looked to Jones.
"Captain Charlie Jones?"
"Yes, Sir," he quickly replied, with a puzzled expression.
"Follow me also."
With that, the General turned and quickly strode towards the entrance to a bunker that was set into the ground. Jones looked to Taylor for answers, but he had none as they stepped down below the surface. It wasn't long before they were standing around a map of the area in Heath's war room, just as Taylor had been so many times before. He never liked it. He was a field officer and never wanted to be anything more.
"Any moment we should be hearing from General Dupont, who I know you are familiar with."
"Yes, Sir," replied Taylor, "but how, may I ask?"
"We have a number of emergency lines set up directly to key installations around the World. We learnt a lot from the last war, and being in the dark again is not something I want to experience. I was here in Baltimore last time we took a stand here, and I can tell you it wasn't pretty."
Taylor could tell Heath had been a fighting man back then. There was no way he’d sat at a desk during that war, with the way he held himself and talked.
"You gave 'em quite a fight."
"I was a Major back then. When I got out, I had less than fifty men still walking and under my command."
A light flashed on the display beside Heath, and he quickly answered before Taylor could even think of a response to his comment. An image of Dupont was projected, and Taylor could already see the pained expression and pale face of a man who was hanging by a thread. He began to open his mouth but stopped and stared at Taylor.
"You made it?"
"I don't die that easy," replied Mitch.
It brought a smile to Dupont's face and the faintest of hope back to his eyes.
"What can I do for you, General?" asked Heath.
"I am sorry to say, and I must be blunt about this. This is a plea for help. Our lines are crumbling. Our armies in the south have broken and have been scattered to the wind. We are on the ragged edge. Will you come to us in this time of need?"
Heath took a deep breath and sighed.
"General Dupont, I assure you I would give you all that you require, would it be even possible. I cannot make that decision, nor could I rightly weaken the defences here in Baltimore. I am sorry to say it, but we aren't fairing much better. We're digging in to weather this storm."
"Then we are alone?"
"You must be able to get support your side of the water? Where are the Spanish, the British?"
"In the same boat, I am afraid. And many of the UEN nations are in open civil war since the arrival of Erdogan's forces."
Dupont went silent and for a few moments and was close to weeping. He finally looked back at them. "This is like nothing we have faced before. I'm getting reports of technology we have never experienced, and lines are breaking easily. I don't know how much longer this can go on for."
"You just keep up the fight, and we'll do the same. Give them all we’ve
"Colonel Taylor, this is General Heath, US Army."
Heath looked to be in his early fifties and stood eye to eye with Mitch. His face was pot-holed and rough, as if it had been riddled with shrapnel. He was in fighting shape and wore full Reitech gear, being an almost mirror of Mitch himself, though his helmet was off and revealing his almost bald head that had just a little grey hair either side.
"Of all the places we could have met before, Colonel, I can't think of anywhere I would rather have had you on side if a shit storm comes our way, than right here now!"
Taylor smiled.
I like this General already, he thought.
"We have no more time for pleasantries. Gentlemen, please follow me."
He stopped for a moment and looked to Jones.
"Captain Charlie Jones?"
"Yes, Sir," he quickly replied, with a puzzled expression.
"Follow me also."
With that, the General turned and quickly strode towards the entrance to a bunker that was set into the ground. Jones looked to Taylor for answers, but he had none as they stepped down below the surface. It wasn't long before they were standing around a map of the area in Heath's war room, just as Taylor had been so many times before. He never liked it. He was a field officer and never wanted to be anything more.
"Any moment we should be hearing from General Dupont, who I know you are familiar with."
"Yes, Sir," replied Taylor, "but how, may I ask?"
"We have a number of emergency lines set up directly to key installations around the World. We learnt a lot from the last war, and being in the dark again is not something I want to experience. I was here in Baltimore last time we took a stand here, and I can tell you it wasn't pretty."
Taylor could tell Heath had been a fighting man back then. There was no way he’d sat at a desk during that war, with the way he held himself and talked.
"You gave 'em quite a fight."
"I was a Major back then. When I got out, I had less than fifty men still walking and under my command."
A light flashed on the display beside Heath, and he quickly answered before Taylor could even think of a response to his comment. An image of Dupont was projected, and Taylor could already see the pained expression and pale face of a man who was hanging by a thread. He began to open his mouth but stopped and stared at Taylor.
"You made it?"
"I don't die that easy," replied Mitch.
It brought a smile to Dupont's face and the faintest of hope back to his eyes.
"What can I do for you, General?" asked Heath.
"I am sorry to say, and I must be blunt about this. This is a plea for help. Our lines are crumbling. Our armies in the south have broken and have been scattered to the wind. We are on the ragged edge. Will you come to us in this time of need?"
Heath took a deep breath and sighed.
"General Dupont, I assure you I would give you all that you require, would it be even possible. I cannot make that decision, nor could I rightly weaken the defences here in Baltimore. I am sorry to say it, but we aren't fairing much better. We're digging in to weather this storm."
"Then we are alone?"
"You must be able to get support your side of the water? Where are the Spanish, the British?"
"In the same boat, I am afraid. And many of the UEN nations are in open civil war since the arrival of Erdogan's forces."
Dupont went silent and for a few moments and was close to weeping. He finally looked back at them. "This is like nothing we have faced before. I'm getting reports of technology we have never experienced, and lines are breaking easily. I don't know how much longer this can go on for."
"You just keep up the fight, and we'll do the same. Give them all we’ve
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