Time War: Onslaught Read online

Page 2

"What about the Major and his people? If they are rumbled by our actions, they'll be shot up in seconds."

  Corwin grimaced. He didn't want to cause their deaths if he could avoid it.

  "Then we don't move on the destroyer until we know they are aboard."

  "And you're relying on that freak animal to take down a boat by himself?"

  "I trust him with it more than I would you, Porter. Now come on, all of you out of sight," replied Corwin.

  He placed Lecia's rifle and his Bren gun inside the bridge, picked a thick long coat from the rack, and threw it over himself. "You all know what you have to do. You don't wait for my order. If you get the chance to board that ship undetected, you take it. Let's do this right. You've seen the guns on that thing, could fuck us up in seconds."

  He turned and left to take up position beside Lecia.

  "You look convincing," she joked.

  "More so than a woman seeming to be in charge?"

  "That is the last thing they'll be thinking when we come into sight," she replied as she pulled her coat off to strip down to her tank top. In the dark of the night her striking hair was not noticeable. She almost looked like the period pinups she was pretending to be, as she pushed out her chest and lowered her chin, looking up at him with big eyes.

  "Wow, I didn't know you could act so well."

  "When I have a need."

  They fell silent for a moment as they watched the tugs ahead of them approach their targets.

  "You know if they don't buy this, they'll probably shoot us where we stand?" she finally asked.

  "Yep," he said with a sigh.

  "And that you have just removed the weapon from my hands that could make all the difference."

  "They turn those turrets on us, and that little shooter ain't gonna do nothing to save us. Wait, you're not scared, are you?"

  "Facing death without a weapon in hand? Maybe a little."

  "You've got a weapon."

  She looked at him as if to ask what as she raised an eyebrow.

  "Yourself."

  She understood what he was saying and appreciated it.

  "We pull this of, I expect a few drinks in return."

  "I can cope with that."

  Corwin raised his binoculars and could see the tugs had reached their targets now. He turned back to the bridge cabin and slammed his fist into it.

  "That's it. Take us in."

  "You sure about this? You know that is a destroyer before us?"

  "Yes."

  "And that we are defenceless if they turn on us?"

  "I'm ambitious, not an idiot. Now get us moving."

  Their pace soon picked up, and as they closed the distance, it became apparent just what a giant the destroyer was compared to their modest vessel.

  "Act distressed, like you are lost and in need of help," he said to Lecia.

  "Poor helpless little girl who can't handle her boat?"

  "Something like that."

  As Corwin watched Gus' team go about their work, he remembered Frasi and turned to check on the boat he had gone after. He could just make out someone perched on the roof of the boat. It could only be the feral one of his own squad, his mission complete and watching and waiting for events to unfold. Corwin sighed with relief.

  "He did it, fucking good work."

  "You doubted he could pull it off?"

  "Frasi isn't really like us. He never recovered from the horrors he was forced to live through. He is a special breed. An enemy you never want to have to meet. I think he could slit any or all of our throats in the night, and escape before anyone was the wiser."

  "And you trust him still?"

  "Of course. He's never given me reason to believe he would ever do it. You have to trust someone."

  She shrugged. He could tell she wanted to agree, but that her stern persona would not allow her to publically. Finally, they were within visual range of the destroyer crew. Even with their lights off, Corwin could see through his binoculars that one of the crew was squinting to make them out.

  "Okay, here we go. Time for you to work your magic."

  He lowered the binoculars and sat down casually on a nearby container. A sharp and aggressive call was shouted to them in German. It meant nothing at all to Corwin, but it was pretty obvious what he was asking for. Lecia suddenly erupted into speech with a loud and soft toned French accent. It didn't even sound like her.

  How on earth does she do it, Corwin thought.

  She kept rambling as the sentry continued to yell commands in German at her. But she kept talking over him and throwing her arms about as if in distress and irate over something or other. The German sailor appeared to be beckoning for them to stop their approach, but Lecia threw up her arms as if she didn't understand as they turned to come alongside the moored destroyer.

  Corwin could see they still did not perceive much of a threat. The sailor had made no attempt to alert the rest of the crew, and only two others had come to the railings, though they were carrying rifles. Their little vessel turned to starboard and floated in towards the destroyer to come alongside. The German was still shouting at them, but clearly there was nothing to be done to stop the two craft coming together. They had slowed to a fraction of their pace and almost came to a stop before coming to rest beside the ship; with just the lightest of contact to the fenders that would go unnoticed to the two thousand seven hundred-ton armoured behemoth.

  The two armed Germans had still not even raised their rifles. The three of them seemed more interested in Lecia, and the skin she was showing, than any potential threat that their vessel and her crew might pose. It was in this moment that the German who had been heckling them lifted up a cup and threw it back merrily. It was clearly alcohol, and he was swaying a little.

  Fuck me, he really did make it happen!

  Corwin remembered the plan Gus had laid out. It all seemed to be going too well when he noticed a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned quickly to see Harland rush out onto the deck and take a running leap up to the railings of the destroyer. He cleared the boundary and landed on deck with his Bren in hand and firing on full auto. The first guard was riddled with bullets, but the game was up.

  "Ah, fuck!" Corwin muttered.

  He didn't even have time to go back for his Bren. He threw off his coat and drew his Colt, quickly putting two shots into the German who had been conferring with Lecia. A bullet ricocheted off the hull beside him. The second guard was cocking his rifle as he went to take a second shot, but it was too late. The others had heard the gunfire and had stepped out on deck to join the affray. Rane opened fired with his Vickers machine gun as he advanced towards the railings. Bullets struck all around the position of the German, and he ducked down for cover.

  "I guess the subtle approach is over," said Corwin.

  He rushed forward and took a leap towards the vessel. He soared over the railings and smashed into the bulkhead, just beside the body of the man who had been yelling at them. Propped against the wall beside him was his weapon. It was a wooden stock submachine gun, with a horizontally fixed magazine and a bandolier of spare magazines on the deck beside it. It looked horribly antiquated to Corwin, but it was a substantial improvement over the pistol that he was carrying. He holstered his sidearm, took up the weapon, and threw the bandolier over him. Chas leapt in beside him, far more nimbly and with more grace than he had done.

  "Don't stop. Keep going until this is done," he said to her.

  She smiled like she was a kid in a toyshop. He still never understood her mentality, but while she continued to operate and show no fear in the most extreme of situations, who was he to question her? Harland dropped in a second later and smashed clumsily into the bulkhead.

  "It's fucking on!" he yelled excitedly.

  "You're a fucking maniac you know that, right?" asked Corwin.

  He only smiled in response, much the same way Chas had as they continued onwards. A siren began to ring out. It was ear splittingly loud to the level
that everyone on the island would be able to hear it. Corwin could already imagine the cursing words that would be coming from the Major's mouth, but there was no time to worry about it now. He hurried onwards and soon found two Germans rushing out from one of the hatches. He immediately squeezed the trigger. The low calibre weapon barely recoiled at all in his firm grasp, but the two men were riddled with bullets.

  He rushed on to the entrance and stopped, peering inside because he could hear several people approaching. He pulled out a grenade, primed it, and launched it inside. Before he could go in, Porter burst in through the entrance firing as he went, so Corwin kept going. He looked to the bow to see three crewmembers run into the massive double barrel gun turrets, seemingly unnoticed by the others. He charged on after them. He hadn't seen those guns fire but could only imagine what devastation they might cause.

  Gunfire and grenades resonated all around, and he could hear a Bren still firing on full auto. In between bursts he heard the wicked laugher of its user. He turned back and saw Harland at the entrance to the bridge. Bullets ripped through the glass windows as muzzle flashes lit up the interior. Harland still had his cigar in his mouth and puffed away, as he fired from the hip and cut down the bridge crew with merciless joy. Corwin never understood how he could get so much gratification out of it, but he was a good soldier for it, so he could not complain. He carried on towards his target. Halfway a hail of bullets landed all around him, and he rolled into the cover of a lifeboat.

  A heavy machine gun was tracking him, and bullets struck all around his position, pinning him down. The weapon went silent for a moment when it could not find a target. He peered out to get line of sight before once again its muzzle flash lit up the sky. It was a fixed emplacement weapon with no shielding, but he had to duck back for cover before he could even hope to get off a shot. The turret was being brought around now, and he had no doubt it would tear their vessel apart. He hadn't got on well with the crew but didn't want to see them dead, but neither could he think of a way to break from cover. But in that moment he was given an answer.

  A single shot rang out from their vessel. He noticed the flash and made out the silhouette of Lecia's hair. He peered around the lifeboat; the gunner was slumped dead over the weapon. He looked back and gave her a little salute before jumping out from cover and making a beeline for the turret. It had just lined up on their craft, and the guns began to lower as he reached it. The entrance had been left open in the panic and rush of the crew, a small mercy. He leapt inside; carefully firing a three-shot burst into each of the crewmembers and took a sigh of relief. His momentary calm was broken when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun around with his finger on the trigger. Vi stood before him.

  "Nice work," she said, but she pulled him out and pointed to the torpedo boats in the bay, "We have a few more problems to deal with."

  "Give me a hand, will you?" he replied and stepped into the gun turret. He took hold of the nearest body and threw it out onto the deck and did the same for the second. Vi took the third. He looked back and studied the controls. All the markings he could see were in German and made little sense to him.

  "You can't seriously think you can work this?"

  "Can't be that difficult."

  The two large brass casing artillery shells were resting on the loading tubes from where he had killed the loaders moments before. He rammed the first home and slammed the breech shut and sealed it. Vi was quick to follow suit on the other.

  "All right, let's see what this thing can do," he said, taking a seat on the blood stained gunner’s chair.

  He pivoted the turret around and raised the gun barrels slightly until he had the first torpedo boat in sight and squeezed the triggers. They felt everything around them shake like an earthquake as the thunderous guns rang out and smoke bellowed out around them. Two huge impacts landed on the surface of the water just in front of the boat and splashed it with water. For a moment they both were frozen with shock at what they were dealing with.

  "Not exactly small arms, are they?" Vi asked, and she began to laugh.

  "Come on, help me reload," he said as he got to his feet.

  He opened the breeches, and the brass casings ejected. Corwin reached for another on the rack, quickly slammed it in, and took his seat once again. Vi did the same. Taking aim, he could see the torpedo boat just begin to move and the frantic crew running about its deck.

  "All right, you fuckers, let's see how you like this," he said, smiling as he took aim and confidently pulled the trigger. The guns thundered once again, and one of the two shells scored a direct hit in the centre of the hull. It penetrated and went right through, splitting the craft in two with its immense power.

  "Holy shit, right on!" Vi yelled. They watched the two parts break open and begin to sink. They quickly set about loading more shells and fired at another that succumbed to a similar fate, but as they loaded again, they saw the crewmembers of one of the other vessels jumping overboard. He fired anyway and watched the boat become engulfed in flames. They loaded one last time and pivoted the guns around to the final boat. It was making a break for open water. He fired and watched the shots fall short.

  Vi rushed to the gun breeches to reload, but Corwin held up his hand to stop her.

  "No, enough. They're finished, but we aren't. Let's get this ship locked down!"

  He picked up his submachine gun and rushed out onto the deck, finding three more bodies of crewmembers who had tried to reach them and been killed by Lecia's exceptional sharpshooter skills.

  "She sure can handle herself."

  "Got that right," replied Vi.

  He knew she meant more than just shooting, but he had more to worry about than that and rushed back towards Harland. He found a lowly officer stumbling drunkenly out of one of the hatches with a small pistol in hand. He was firing erratically, but to Corwin's amazement, one of the shots struck the armour on his chest. The little 9mm bullet was no match for his 22nd century technology armour, and the shot ricocheted off, but it shocked him for a moment. He held the trigger down and emptied the magazine of his SMG, carrying on as he drew it out and fed in a fresh one.

  "That was sloppy," said Vi.

  He'd hoped she hadn't noticed.

  "Still here, aren't I?" he snarled.

  They reached the entrance to the deck and found it to be a bloody mess. Eight crewmembers lay dead in a pool of blood. Harland stood over the last survivor, about to plunge his knife into the man's neck from above as he knelt cowering on the deck.

  "Stop!" Corwin ordered.

  Harland looked up at him with contempt and looked back down as if to continue.

  "Don't you fucking dare!"

  "Do what you want, but when you're done, he's mine," replied Harland. He pushed the man aside and stood back.

  Vi looked impressed for him having saved the wounded man, and it pleased her to see Harland put in his place. Corwin never understood his sadistic nature, but it came invaluable in much of the work they did. The German was slumped on his knees and looked up at Corwin. His face was splattered in blood, both his own and his comrades, and he had a gunshot wound in his shoulder.

  "You speak English?" Corwin asked.

  The man nodded.

  "You got some kind of loudspeaker on this thing?"

  He nodded in agreement once again.

  "Then put me on, and don't say a fucking word."

  He reached forward and hauled the man to his feet. He glared at him until he finally reached forward and pressed a few keys, handing Corwin a wired microphone. He didn't say a word, only nodded to acknowledge that he had done as requested.

  "My name is Captain Corwin, and I claim this ship in the name of King George and on behalf of His Majesty's Royal Navy. Lay down your weapons and surrender, and no harm will come to you."

  They heard a few more gunshots ring out, and finally all fell silent.

  "You did it. You took the fucking ship!" said Vi.

  Corwin stepped out of the bridge to
the open deck. A tug was heading to go past their bow with one of the transport ships in tow. At the bow he could see Major Sykes-Gathany looking at him through a pair of binoculars. He put the glass down and was shaking his head in disbelief. Finally, he lifted his right hand and gave Corwin the thumbs up. He turned his attention back to the coastline and could just make out the shapes of hundreds of German sailors and marines at the edge. Some hurried to get aboard small boats. Others simply stared in horror at the defeat they had been dealt.

  "We open fire on that town, and we could wipe it off the face of the Earth," said Harland.

  "We could, but there are civilians out there. Civilians who helped us make this happen. We have won this day. Let's take what we have won and move. Raise anchor and get us the hell out of here."

  He turned to Harland who looked disappointment by the lack of blood spilt.

  "Man the aft guns. If any of those boats get anywhere close, I know I can rely on you to sort them out."

  CHAPTER 2

  Hotwell took a sip from his tea and sat back. He propped his feet up on his desk and picked up the morning newspaper that he had not had a moment to read. He was trying to stay calm while he read the headlines, but it was grim news that only made him more anxious. He took a deep breath and finally leapt from his seat, throwing the paper down. He felt useless.

  "Should have gone with them," he muttered.

  He paced back and forth around the empty operations room, not knowing what to do with himself.

  "No bloody use sitting around here."

  He cursed and sighed.

  "Why? Why am I even talking to my..."

  He stopped, realising how crazy he sounded.

  "Oh, sod it," he said, as he picked up his cap and walked out of the room.

  "Any news on Hunter?" he asked a passing orderly.

  "Nothing yet, Sir. He is stable, at least."

  "Right, then, but keep me up to date on his condition."

  "Yes, Sir," replied the man as he hurried on past.

  Hotwell still couldn't believe the kid had survived, but it was just one more fact about the Luckers that seemed impossible and implausible. He stepped out of the building and looked towards the high security wing to the south where he knew Robak was being detained. He still wanted to get some time in with the enemy soldier that could only be described as a creature.