Free Peace World by Steven L. Hawk Page A

their next move.  He did not keep them waiting.
    Seeing no immediate threat from either of the buildings to their flanks, Grant angled toward the one on the right.  When it was comfortably hugging their right flank, they proceeded north in single file along the broken street. 
    As the team moved, Grant's head was on a swivel, constantly checking his surroundings for threats.  He observed the arrival of the other carriers and watched as the infantry offloaded and rushed to join the movement north.  Always north. 
    Within minutes, the squad encountered their first intersection and Grant held up a fist, indicating a halt.  He peered around the corner of the building and was greeted with an expected, pleasant view as forces from street four made their way toward his location.  Several teams of tired infantry led the procession and, upon reaching the street where Grant waited, turned north and joined the forces of street three.  Behind the infantry, he spied the artillery carrier and a single tank bringing up the rear. 
    Granted waited for the tank to arrive, and then jumped up on the vehicle and pounded on the hatch.
    He was greeted by one of the crew.
    "Where's the other tank?"
    "Didn't make it, General.  What you see here is what you get."
    Grant offered a single nod and sent the tank on its way with a simple, "All right, troop.  Carry on."
    The last of the reserve units had arrived and were assembling in the middle of the street.  Grant rushed to them and ignored a salute from the sergeant leading the group of twenty.
    "Sergeant, all of our forces on this street are to your north.  You and your team are our rear guard.  Watch our asses for any Minith trying to get behind us.  But be ready to engage enemy to the north.  When we need you to move up to the front, you'll know.  Questions?"
    "Where are you going to be, General?"
    Grant aimed a thumb back over his shoulder. "That way, soldier.  Everyone is that way."
    He clapped the sergeant on the back before gathering Conway and her team and rushing off again. 
    Grant continued to receive radio updates and issue orders to the pilots and ground commanders as he made his way to the front lines.  He had lost communication with Titan and the Telgorans, and struggled to reach them so he could alert them of the masses of Minith waiting ahead.
    When he did reach them five minutes later, Titan, the Telgorans, and every other soldier, pilot, and driver already knew.  Grant watched with dread as the flashes of red that represented Minith incoming fire grew from the occasional to the constant.  They had reached the initial wall of the enemy, and their advance had slowed to a crawl. 
    The crawl quickly became a stall when two of their tanks were destroyed by a heavy concentration of Minith fire.  The enemy had learned that their weapons, useless against the tanks when used singly, were very effective when grouped together.
    The advancing infantry recognized the threat and redoubled their efforts to defend the final tank.  But the result was inevitable.  Scores of enemy weapons were successfully turned on the armored vehicle.  When it exploded, the remaining wave of infantry and Telgoran dindin warriors were left naked and vulnerable. 
    The jet pilots did their best to make up for the loss of the armored ground units, but the battle had shifted.  The same concentration of enemy weapons that took out the tanks now focused on the fast, but low-flying, carriers.  His pilots were swatted from the sky with ease. 
    From a distance of forty meters behind the lead elements, Grant watched helplessly as the enemy quickly chewed up his forces.  The reports he was receiving from the units on the next street over were no more positive.  The numbers of Minith they faced were just as great. 
    Grant finally acknowledged it was now just a matter of when they would die, instead of if they would die. 
    His anger raged.  Not at his forces, not at the Minith.  But at himself.