General Gristin indicated to the officer beside him, ‘Anything further to add?’
The younger field commander nodded, eager to join his men in their forward fox holes, ‘We have two hundred Fahimian commandoes as a mobile reserve sir…their commander has requested they are permitted to join the initial assault.’ The officer shook his head, stifling a grin, ‘I have declined as they are few in number and may be targeted directly by the enemy, but their commander then requested I bring the question to yourself…they are a very determined race and want revenge…’
The general considered the request, then shook his head grimly, ‘I agree with your initial decision…no…their soldiers are on the way to earth, supporting our lines to the east of Morasat and their pilots are protecting Alexion One…they cannot do everything.’ He grinned as the excitement rose within him, ‘Send their commander to me…they should have a representative with my command post.’ He nodded back to the older officer, ‘We will move up with the mobile artillery unit…the Red Leopards are always near the fight, even in command…’
The adjutant coughed slightly, indicating to the north, his voice strained with adrenalin, ‘We have limited time now sir…Alexion One is about to open fire…’
Several officers stiffened, their right fists slamming against left chest plates as the commander nodded, ‘Go to your units…we are ready. Today, the Morgons taste defeat!’ The general saluted formally as most of the officers prepared to run back to their units, his voice rising, ‘Our time is now!’
Chapter Twelve: A journey into West London
The blue Jaguar limousine swept through the darkened gates of Osterley Park, two police motorcyclists before it, their blue lights flashing as the tyres crunched over rough gravel. Behind the saloon, a dark Range Rover of the armed protection unit with four occupants swerved through the wide opening. The driver acknowledged a group of camouflage uniformed soldiers stood to the left before a low wall, several smoking, their assault rifles slung over their shoulders. Several more troops on the right scrutinised the vehicles and darkened windows suspiciously, an officer waving as the car and Range Rover sped past.
The bikes slowed to the side as the Jaguar continued onwards, pulling right and drawing to a halt at second military checkpoint, two soldiers stood before the vehicles with semi-automatic rifles across their chests. To either side of the soldiers were two tents, a low wattage glowing spotlight above attached to the overhanging trees and flickering illuminations inside the military tarpaulin, shadows moving across the waxed canvas coverings.
Further to either side there were several porta cabins and other tents, all covered with camouflaged netting strung across the overhead branches with additionally attached foliage, several armed silhouettes stood on guard or staring suspiciously towards the new arrivals. The armed limousine passenger in his thirties looked out into the darkened field before them in curiosity, shaking his head in disbelief as he whispered, ‘All this security and we can’t see a damn thing…is this where this ship is meant to be?’
The driver grinned at the squeal of leather upholstery behind, the passenger in the back seat leaning forward, his strained face lined with weariness as he chuckled, hands clasping the shoulder rests of the seats in front, ‘Perhaps you would like to come inside…it’s the least I can do for all your efforts.’
The protection officer in the passenger seat swallowed, his cheeks flushing upon realising his error, the rear passenger having slept for most of the journey, ‘Erm…sorry sir…not my place to have said that…’
A further low chuckle came from behind them, the admiral slapping his shoulder playfully, ‘Don’t apologise…I was once a soldier myself…’ He smiled in recollection, ‘A lot younger then of course…but I recall an unfavourable comment I made in front of a general…a far worse breach of protocol, so don’t worry young man.’ Admiral Karladen shook his head as he stared up wearily into the rear view mirror, their eyes meeting, ‘I got lashes…I think we can arrange a warm meal for you and the others and perhaps some refreshments instead?’
The driver’s window lowered, a Royal Marine officer bending to glance inside, his eyes widening as he recognised the dark blue uniform in the rear of the car, then the figure, his head nodding in respect as a gloved hand rose to his helmet, ‘Admiral Karladen…welcome back and good evening sir. The men would like to thank your crew for the extensive use of the facilities, excellent food…and all are very grateful for the enhanced medical treatment.’
The senior Trevakian waved his hand, forcing a smile, ‘That’s the least we can do after what has happened…’ He leant forward once more, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, ‘They like the food then?’
The officer at the window nodded enthusiastically, ‘Oh yes sir…the meats and poultry rations are exceptional…our quartermaster is extremely jealous and dumbfounded at the quality of taste and nutritional benefits.’ The Royal Marine captain grinned, ‘The men wait for each meal with relish…I have even had to arrange a rota as to who goes first and it’s the first time we have ever had eager volunteers for sentry duty…thank you, sir.’ He nodded, stepping back and waving for the soldiers to let the Jaguar through, his face turning to the driver and pointing to the left, ‘Pull over next to the Land Rover…that’s our secretive little reference point for one of the side doors that the crew prefer…’ The officer stepped back, stiffening and saluting as the Jaguar moved forward slowly, the gravel of a new track crunching once more beneath the wide tyres of the lavish car.
Admiral Karladen grinned to himself, the car pulling to a halt as he spoke softly, ‘You two men cannot
