Beyond Armageddon V: Fusion by DeCosmo Anthony

Author:DeCosmo, Anthony [DeCosmo, Anthony]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-03-04T06:00:00+00:00

Alexander led Trevor and JB to the shaded park off the terrace at the Hotel le Parc. There—and on the streets nearby—mustered a column of military vehicles. The knowledge imparted to Trevor from his DNA database found entries for most.

He identified a pair of French-built Panhard AML armored cars with the fading remains of “U.N.” paint, one sporting a 90 millimeter barrel the other with dual 20 millimeter weapons for use as an anti-aircraft vehicle; three MOWAG Eagle military cars—based on American Hummer chassis—with what appeared to be anti-tank weapons mounted atop; four six-wheeled Finnish Sisu-Pasi amphibious armored personnel carriers, one of which sported some kind of homemade mortars; two Spanish Pegaso BMR APCs; and a dozen SUVs, some towing small artillery pieces and all hauling soldiers.

It occurred to Trevor that the vehicles ran on wheels, not treads. Alexander had left the Leopard tanks in the motor pool, choosing speed over outright firepower.

Their host led them to one of the half-dozen Sherpas at the rear of the convoy. The one they entered lacked a roof; the others brandished heavy machine guns.

Trevor noticed that Alexander kept closing and opening his one free hand (the other carried his ever-present clipboard) in a fist, repeatedly, as if exercising his fingers. He realized that the action came from nerves when Alexander said, “This had better pay off, Trevor. Even with your shipments our fuel resources are scarce. We have carefully shepherded them, preparing for our next offensive.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed. I see that civilians around here walk, use bikes, or ride horses. Very little vehicles.”

“We do not have access to those alien matter transformation machines you possess. Most of our petroleum resources came from Italian shale oil refined through Schwedt, Germany all the way over on the Polish border. Those facilities are still operating but the Duass and The Order have slowed our supply routes to a trickle. In other words—”

“In other words the gas we burn today may not be replaced for weeks, if ever.”

Alexander sat in the passenger seat, Trevor and Jorgie took the rear. A hard-nosed British Royal Marine slid behind the wheel and started the Renault truck. Meanwhile Hauser found a seat in one of the SUVs with a group of English soldiers who spoke his language.

The thump-thump-thump of helicopter blades pulled Trevor’s eyes skyward. Sunlight filtered through the trees in flickers. Rotating blades added to the strobe effect. As the convoy left the shade of the park he saw two helicopters circling overhead. The first was the green Eurocopter 135 transport that wore the iron cross of the German Bundeswehr. Trevor noted rocket pods affixed to the landing struts and an angry-looking soldier with a big gun leaning out an open side door.

The second bird impressed even more so: a 2-seat Tigre attack chopper wearing French colors.

“Look at it, Father!” Jorgie exclaimed excitedly. Certainly plastic soldiers on the table in the basement conference room back home could not compare to this experience.

The convoy picked up speed and moved quickly through Murol.

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