Dinosaur Wars: Earthfall by Thomas P Hopp
***
The tank in NORAD’s entry tunnel burned for almost an hour. General Davis, Major Lewis and several other officers watched the smoke and flames on TV monitors in the command center, thankful that the blaze was keeping the Kra at bay. But as soon as the fire died down, a monitor caught glimpses of enemy activity at the jammed outer door. A group of fighting machines managed to climb across the overturned Bradley and from there nothing stopped them from reaching the inner blast door. A few minutes later, the monitor screen went blank and Davis felt, more than heard, the rumble of heavy explosions he knew were tearing at the inner blast door, or its hinges.
Eventually, one concussion was accompanied by a much louder roar. A voice came over the intercom, “Inner blast door breached.”
“That’s it,” muttered Davis. “Our last line of defense is down.”
Within minutes the command center’s TV monitors showed hallways where NORAD troops were engaging Kra fighting machines, putting up a stiff resistance. Davis had seen to it that soldiers were stationed at every useful fire-point and now they were giving their all, every step of the way. But nothing Davis saw on the screens offered hope of more than a protracted last stand in an underground inferno.
Wearily, he looked at the wall display that had once shown tactical maps of North America and the world. Now the scope of the electronic projectors had been narrowed to map the corridors of NORAD itself. Red lines traced the tunnels already lost to the Kra, while those still held by NORAD were traced in blue. The amount of blue was shrinking by the minute.
Lewis pointed at a monitor showing a Kra machine in flames, cut down while trying to take a heavily fortified position. She smiled bleakly. “At least they’re taking as many casualties as we are.”
“Maybe more,” Davis muttered, “but they keep coming, don’t they? At this rate they’ll overrun us completely before dawn. All that’s left now is to make them pay dearly for victory.”
His voice trembled, in part because he was fiercely proud of his men and women. At every turn of the tunnels, every steel doorway, there was a lethal exchange of fire and both sides were dying valiantly. He glanced around him at the taut faces of his officers and staff.
“Well, people, it seems we’ve come to the end-game. It’s been a privilege to be your commanding officer. I only wish I had led you better.” He looked at the grim faces of the Army, Navy and Air Force and Marine junior officers and enlisted soldiers around him. “I know you’ll account for yourselves well when the enemy comes to this room. Find yourselves some good defensive positions and give ’em hell.”
He picked up an assault rifle from a desk and grabbed a box of grenades, then went toward his office door as the group spread out around the command center, hastily arranging fire-points from file cabinets, furniture and upended tables. There was a round of clicks as they checked their ammo clips. Then a muffled explosion rocked the command center and everyone turned anxiously toward the TV monitor that showed the corridor outside the door. It was filled with billowing dust and against that backdrop were silhouetted the CVC-helmeted heads of several men at a barricade of crates and boxes. Davis recognized one of them: the tank commander, Abercromby, a particularly good soldier. He wished he had taken the time to say goodbye to him.
The glittering silver form of a Kra fighter-walker appeared on the screen, striding out of the dusty haze and immediately raising an arm to fire a laser round. The troops in the corridor unleashed a volley of automatic rifle fire and a hail of sparks peppered the fighter, without effect. The bullets just glanced off its shining metal hide. Then Crom rose up with an anti-tank launcher on his shoulder and let loose an armor-piercing rocket. It traveled straight and true to the Kra machine, striking its nose and blasting it into a ball of flame. A cheer went up inside the command center as the blazing hulk toppled backward to the floor. Davis joined in with the last hurrah, but the cheers faded quickly as another Kra machine strode through the smoke and flame and raked the troops with its laser. The helmeted heads of Crom and the others fell away one-by-one. As they fell, the command center grew silent. The Kra stopped for a moment, pivoting right and left to observe the effectiveness of its fire. Satisfied, it strode forward past the camera’s view.
Lewis had taken a position near Davis’s office, behind a desk with a row of computers on it. She turned to him with a spooked look on her face. “That monitor’s right outside,” she said.
“I know,” Davis replied. He leaned against his office doorjamb, preparing to steady his fire. The thud of an explosion outside made the iron door of the command center reverberate.
Lewis said softly, “It’s been an honor serving with you, Matt.”
Davis glanced at her and she gave him a thin smile. He nodded. “Likewise, serving with you.” Her face looked tired but pretty under her helmet—and scared. Looking at her only made him feel more pain at what was inevitably going to happen to her, to him, to everyone, in a matter of seconds.
“There’s just one more thing,” she said, walking over to him.
“What’s that?”
“A hug.”
He opened his arms and she stepped into his embrace. They clutched each other tightly and he gave her a small kiss on the cheek. “Goodbye, Holly,” he whispered.
“Goodbye, Matt.”
She straightened and saluted. He returned her salute and she went back to her firing position. The door held against a second blast. But a third, stronger explosion bent it inward and a puff of dust wafted past the jamb.
Davis glanced at his watch, noting the time and date. “Five-and-a-half days,” he muttered. “We held out for five-and-a-half days. Not much to write about in the annals of military history.” He checked the clip in his M‑16 and waited for the next blast, which he was sure would bring the door down. The grim vigil seemed to last an eternity. Davis wondered if this was the way it always went. Did time always stand still?
Then his eye caught a movement on a TV monitor. He couldn’t believe what he saw. The Kra machine outside the door was walking away! It was moving back along the corridor the way it came in. There was a moment of stunned silence in the room. People stood up from their cover and watched the retreating machine, staring at the monitor until the Kra turned a corner and was gone.
“They’re leaving,” Lewis murmured. “But, why?”
As seconds ticked by, Davis’s astonishment grew. “What in blazes?” he muttered. “They had us. How do you figure?”
No one had an answer.