Chapter Twenty
The guards turned as a huge metallic shape charged through the previously solid wall of the garden. As they watched, a huge form of masonry approached them at speed, a trail of dust billowing in front of it. Then, gunfire took down the guards with shocking suddenness. The shape charged forth, finally rattling to a halt between the gazebo and the remaining troops. A hatch in the top of the shape was thrown open and a familiar face poked through. "Need a lift?" Jordan yelled.
"Sure, why not?" replied Ramius as he helped Lisa climb in. Beyond them, the remaining troops had regained their sense and were now firing furiously at the shape. As Ramius climbed into the hatch, he looked up. In the windows above, he saw the form of Scott Tranous staring down at him. Ramius threw a jaunty wave in the direction of the window, then climbed down and shut the hatch. As the shape, shifted forward again, the masonry fell clear, revealing it for what it was, a German-made Leopard II main battle tank. Gunfire pinging off its sides, the tanks rolled across the garden and through the wall, leaving a trail of dust behind it.
Up in the palace, Scott Tranous had turned at the sound of the tank blasting through the wall. Charging back towards the window, he watched, stunned, as the tank rumbled around the garden before crashing trough the other wall and away. He watched as the tank reached a fork in the road. One fork headed down towards the beach, and probable rescue for the escapees. Instead, the tank headed up, into the mountains, rumbling towards the ICBM launch area. Tranous swore, and grabbed a radio. "I want that tank stopped at all costs," he roared, his calm veneer gone. "Leave nothing!"
The Leopard II rolled along the mountain road, leaving a trail of dust streaming behind. It's mottled green camouflage, while great for blending in with the forest terrain of the European plains betrayed it as it rumbled across the mountains of Mauanui. Every so often, the turret and its 110-mm main cannon would rotate 180 degrees, point behind briefly, before rotating back to point forward once again. Inside, Jordan drove from the lowered drivers console. Lisa sat in the commanders chair, trying to stay out of the way. In the gunners seat, Ramius checked behind them for pursuit. "Nothing yet," he said, "but they can't be far off."
"Now now," tutted Jordan. "Where's the positive 'maybe they'll just give up and go home'?"
Ramius turned in his seat and glared at Jordan, before turning back to the cannon. Jordan chuckled. Peering out of the drivers hatch, he eyed the cliff-tops above them.
Finally, Ramius called out. "Here they come." Behind them, two RPG-armed Ford F150 pick-up trucks roared along the road. The trucks closed fast. In the back of each truck, a trooper held his RPG-7 rocket launcher at the ready, waiting for the range to close. Finally, one trooper lost his patience and fired. The rocket shot off the mark, leaving a smoky trail behind it. With a CLANG, the projectile ricocheted off the sloping armour of the Leopard and shot off into the air. Inside the tank, the impact sounded like a giant had struck a planet-sized gong. Infuriated, Ramius spun the turret around. "Try to damage my hearing?" he roared. "Damage this." He pulled the trigger. The 120mm L55 main cannon roared like thunder. One of the trucks was literally blasted off its wheels by the impact of the shell slamming into it. The other truck tried to dodge the wreckage, but hit a flaming piece of chassis and flipped onto its roof, crushing the trooper in back. In the tank, Ramius rotated the turret back towards the front. "Now that's what I'm talking about," he said.
The tank continued to roll over the mountains on Mauanui. Then, up ahead, the ICBMs appeared. Twenty-five missiles pointing to the heavens, each tipped with the deadly Sansaxo plasma warhead. One was the missile that would be fired at Paris. In the Leopard, Ramius and Jordan looked at each other. "Any ideas?" questioned Jordan.
Ramius thought. "One of those is destined for Paris, but we don't know which one. What kind of fuel does the Marteau missile use?"
"Liquid hydrogen and oxygen."
"Right," said Ramius. "The fuelled missile will be freezing cold then. So we just have to find the cold missile and that'll be it. One shell and the blast will destroy the rest. I'll sneak in, then…"
Jordan interrupted. "Oh no you don't. Not on that leg. It's my turn to be the big hero."
Ramius looked at his friend. "Fair enough. Lisa, give him a rifle."
Lisa obliged. As Jordan started to climb out of the tank, she called after him. "Good luck."
"Keep some for yourself," he replied. "You haven't seen how Ramius drives!"
The guards in the complex were standing at the ready as the tank rolled towards them. Then, as the tank got closer, they opened up with rifle fire. The tank responded with its own 50. cal machine gun that sent the troops diving for cover. In the confusion, no one noticed a figure cut through the fence further down and creep in. Jordan spared a quick glance at the Leopard, raising hell at the gate. Shaking his head with amusement, he dashed towards the missiles.
The Leopard tank dashed nimbly in front of the guards, distracting them from what was going on in the compound. Inside, Lisa wrangled with the controls, while in the turret Ramius strafed the guards with the mounted machine gun. As he did so, he glanced at the ammo counter. Only 45 remained of 50. cal. He sighed and continued firing, occasionally calling instructions to Lisa. "Left!" he shouted, and Lisa rotated the tank to the left. "Right!" and Lisa turned as appropriate. The guards were getting frustrated as the tank shrugged off their bullets, but then their spirits lifted as a large CLANG emitted from the Leopard. Inside, Ramius spun the turret. "What the hell was that?" yelled Lisa.
Ramius found what had hit them. "This isn't the only tank on the island my dear." He shouted as he spotted two T-72 turrets moving along a ridge behind them. "We need to break off and take them out!"
"What about Jordan?"
Ramius was silent. Then, "I can be left unsupervised for a minute," Jordan said over the radio. "Just remember to be here when I need a lift home."
Ramius grinned. "You heard the man. Back down the road"
Lisa did so.
In the compound, Jordan still searched from missile to missile. Crawling up close, he placed his hand on one. The metal was warm to the touch. Jordan grimaced. The further he went into the compound, the further he'd have to go to get back out. He shook his head and moved to the next missile.
One T-72 exploded as Ramius scored a direct turret hit. He grinned and let out a whoop. "Now this is a novel first date, isn't it?" he smiled.
"Slightly more intense than coffee," Lisa smiled back. Both were distracted as a burst of static grated over the airwaves. Then…
"Hello? Is this Terrorist Taxis? I'd like a pick-up please."
Ramius beamed. "You found it?"
Back at the complex, Jordan crouched in front of a missile. He tried to put his hand on it, but the intense cold of the sub-zero fuel stopped him. "Yup. Got it," he replied. "Third row, second from the back."
"Roger that. On our way," said Ramius, just as Lisa let out a scream. He looked forward to see the remaining T-72 in front of them, its turret rotating towards them. He frantically twisted the turret towards the enemy and pulled the trigger. Both tanks fired at the same instant. The shell from the Leopard bored straight into the T-72 and blew it apart like a watermelon filled with nitro-glycerine. The T-72 shell went low and bounced up off the Leopards hull. As it did so, it clipped the barrel of the cannon. The explosion shook the tank on its suspension and blew the barrel into metal fragments. Inside, Ramius and Lisa were thrown about in their seats. When the rocking finally stopped, Ramius tried to regain his senses. "You OK?" he yelled to Lisa.
"I…I think so," Lisa stammered. "That was close."
Ramius tried to think of something flippant to say, but came up with nothing. "Let's go get Jordan," was all he could say.
In the compound, Jordan took cover in the shadow of the missile. As he waited, he looked up at the Sansaxo warhead, trying to imagine what kind of man would consider using this kind of technology against his fellow man. Unable to come up with an answer, he glanced towards the gate just as the battered and damaged Leopard tank rolled through. He rolled his eyes as he saw the shattered stump of the main cannon. "You just can't go for five minutes without breaking something, can you Ramius?" he muttered, before realising the problem they now had. With no heavy cannon, they had no way of using the tank to destroy the missile. Jordan looked about, and spotted it. Dashing out of cover, he ran to pick up an abandoned RPG. Turning, he pointed the weapon at the ground, not wanting Ramius to get too trigger-happy and mistake him for a Global Anarchy trooper. A minute later, the Leopard rolled up beside him and the hatch was thrown open. "Need a lift?" called Ramius.
"Oh shut up," growled Jordan. "You broke my tank!"
"Look, you want a lift or what?" Ramius retorted.
Grumbling and muttering comments about Ramius and his driving skills, Jordan climbed into the tank and closed the hatch. The heavy vehicle rumbled across the compound and crashed through the far wall. Behind them, G.A. troopers pursued on foot. Finally, 300 metres downrange, the tank came to a stop. Ramius popped out of the hatch, RPG on his shoulder. "Third row, second from the back, right?" he asked.
"Don't screw it up," replied Jordan. "Only one shot."
"Fine," muttered Ramius as he took aim. "This is for my Jaguar," he said as he pulled the trigger. The rocket-propelled grenade shot out and blazed towards the missiles, over the heads of the Global Anarchy troopers. Ramius quickly tossed the launcher away, ducked back into the tank and slammed the hatch shut.
He was just in time.
The grenade crashed into the fully fuelled ICBM, detonating on impact. The explosion ruptured the body of the missile, igniting the hydrogen fuel inside. The fuelled missile, all the unfuelled ICBMs, the compound, the troops and everything within a 400 metre radius was incinerated.
Well, almost everything.
As the fireball broke free of the ground and climbed into the tropical sky, it left scorched earth behind. Scorched earth and a scorched Leopard II battle tank, the air around it shimmering from the thousand-degree fireball it had survived. Inside, Ramius, Jordan and Lisa sat in the air-conditioned cabin, protected from the outside heat by the atmospheric control system of the Leopard. Ramius whistled. "Well, that was interesting."
"It also solves our ICBM problem," replied Jordan.
"So it does. So it does."
Lisa's eyes were wide as she looked out at the devastation. "Can we go home now?"
Ramius nodded. "Yeah, I think we should get out of here. We're going to be persona non grata with a certain terrorist leader."
Seconds later, the tank grinded into gear and headed for the coast. Nobody was watching as an Apache Longbow hovered over the ridge and started to follow.
Out to sea, the fireball had been visible for miles. As it had climbed into the sky, observers in the harbour spotted it and radioed in. Within seconds, a ship cleared the dock and headed out past the breakwater. On the bridge, the ships captain sat in his chair. "Report," he barked.
"Large fireball over the missile storage," replied a technician. "It appears the ICBMs have been destroyed."
"Dradle Industries, I'll guess," muttered Pedro. "Those filthy land troopers couldn't stop them. We will."
As the ship sailed along the coast, the sun reflected off the waves, revealing its name. Perdedor.