A cheer went up, my own team joining in. “Quiet,” I warned, glancing back at them. That was just the first casualty. We couldn’t celebrate yet.
Two more shots echoed, ringing over the buildings. “Shit,” hissed another sniper, one I didn’t recognize. “Dodgy bastards. Anvil Six, they’re coming in fast.”
“Storm,” Martin snapped. “Get ready. When you see the targets, light them up.”
A chilling scream rang out, making my blood run cold, as several dark, winged shapes appeared through the clouds. Eyes glowing silver against the black, they dropped from the sky with shrieking battle cries and swooped toward the armory.
DANTE
“We’re taking fire!”
On the screens, lights flared, illuminating the darkness. The distinctive white streaks of gunfire.
“They’ve got machine gunners on the roofs,” someone called out, as if he hadn’t expected anything like that. I considered firing him on the spot. It was St. George; how could he not expect they would be ready for an attack made by dragons? This was precisely why I wanted to send in the first wave, to gauge their defenses and fortifications and test what kind of surprises they had waiting. None of this was unexpected.
“Sir, we’ve got snipers,” called another human, staring intensely at the screens. “Coming from the chapel and the headquarters roof, I believe. Alpha one-three and one-seven are down, and one-nine has been severely wounded. Should I order it to return to base?”
“No,” I said calmly. “If it’s going to die soon, there’s no reason for it to return.” I swept a hand toward the screen. “Have Alpha one-nine ram the chapel tower. Hopefully that will get rid of at least one shooter. The rest of them should take out the machine gunners and the other snipers.”
There was a moment’s pause. I could feel the eyes of the rest of the team on me, wide and stunned. “Are my orders unclear?” I asked softly.
“No, sir!” The man quickly turned and spoke urgently into his radio, and the rest of the team averted their eyes. Casualties were to be expected, I told myself. The vessels were tools. Bred to fight, kill and die. And when they died, they should take out as many enemies as they could. I was commander, and victory was nonnegotiable. The life of a single vessel, a dozen vessels, didn’t matter. They existed only to ensure that the battle was ours.
“Sir,” said another human, “what of the armory? We’ve got shots coming from that building, too.”
“Ah. That would be their headquarters,” I mused. “Their bunker for this attack. If we destroy it, the fight is ours.” I raised a hand. “Send in flight two,” I ordered. “Have them concentrate fire on the armory.”
GARRET
The scene outside dissolved into utter pandemonium. Metallic-gray dragons swooped through the air, breathing flame and lighting up the darkness. Turret fire roared, and the occasional bark of sniper rifles could be heard over the cacophony. Dragons tumbled from the sky, falling to the ground or crashing into the sides of buildings. We seemed to be holding our own, but I knew this couldn’t be the whole strike force. Talon had to be holding something in reserve, just as we were.
Behind me, I could feel the tension in my squad, watching the screaming chaos through the windows, their hands on their RPGs. I saw several looks shot my way, wondering when they would receive the order to fire, to aid the rest of the base. Not yet, I thought at them. Hold your ground, it’s not time yet. We get only one shot, and we have to make it count.
Voices crackled over the radio—Martin calling orders to his men, the other squad commanders responding in turn. I listened, helpless to do anything else, knowing our time was coming but not yet. I heard Storm commander snarling defiantly at the dragons swooping by, heard the chatter of machine gun rounds, before his voice abruptly cut out over the radio. Martin called out to him, demanding his status, but he didn’t respond.
And then, Tristan’s voice, oddly calm, like he was watching a head-on collision but couldn’t do anything about it. “Oh, shit—”
With a streak of metallic scales, a dragon slammed full speed into the chapel tower with a boom that shook the ground. Wood and plaster flew everywhere, splinters raining to the earth as the steeple wall collapsed with a groan and a snapping of timber.
“Tristan!”
Someone behind me hissed a curse. I ignored him, putting a hand to my helmet as I snarled into the headset: “Longshot Six, come in. Longshot, this is Scorpion. What’s your status?”
Nothing. The buzz of static and the echo of gunfire were the only answers to my repeated calling. Numb, I closed my eyes, fighting the helpless rage within. Dammit, Tristan. You weren’t supposed to die on the front lines. You were the one who was supposed to survive this.
Outside, the fight continued. A gunner frantically tried shooting down three dragons at once, but another swooped in from behind and landed on his back. Narrow jaws snapped, and the soldier slumped lifelessly over the gun. As I watched, a second dragon flew straight into the hail of machine gun fire, didn’t stop and crashed headfirst into the turret, crushing both the gun and the soldier operating it.
“Sir,” one of my men growled. “More dragons incoming.”
I looked up as another wave descended from the clouds and swarmed the armory. Jets of flames erupted from their mouths as they swooped past, strafing it again and again, and I could feel the immense heat even from here.
“Ready to fire, sir,” the soldier said, hefting the weapon. “On your order.”
“Hold,” I snapped, and his jaw tightened. “Not yet,” I told him and the rest of the team. “There are too many dragons in the air. If we move now, we’ll be wasting our shots and giving away our position. Our orders are to wait until we’re sure we can do the most damage possible. Until that time, we stay put.”
Johnson glared at me with suspicion and defiance. “Are you sure we’re holding back because of orders, sir?” he asked, his tone softly dangerous. “And that you’re not feeling sympathy for the lizards?”
Any other time, I might have hit him. Dragons were attacking, the base was being destroyed and I’d just watched my best friend die in front of me. I was not in the mood for insubordination, and laying him flat on his back was a viciously tempting thought.
Instead, I turned and calmly pointed the muzzle of my sidearm in his face. He froze, as did the rest of the squad, and I smiled coldly.
“Not yet,” I said, my voice flat and dangerous. “We hold position until I say it’s time. Is that clear, soldier?”
He glared for a moment, then dropped his gaze. “Yes, sir.”
I returned to watching the battle, a cold lump settling in my gut. Talon was still holding back. I didn’t know how many more waves of dragons were coming, but I did know they weren’t done, not by a long shot.
I had the sinking feeling that they were just getting started.