Their Darkest Hour Read Online Free Page B

the latest in communications and coordinating gear.  He hadn't been too impressed with the entire concept when he’d first heard of it – the command vehicle wasn’t even as well-protected as the wretched Snatch land rover – but it might have proved itself useful today.  A pair of operators, both looking as if they were on the verge of panic, glanced up at him in relief.
     
    “Report,” he barked.  “Who the hell hit us?”
     
    “Sir, I don't know, sir,” the lead operator said.  He looked far too young and nerdy to serve with the army, but his skills at pulling information out of the ether were remarkable.  “All of our communications links have gone down!”
     
    Gavin swore.  They had a laser link to the British-owned satellite communications network and various NATO systems.  If they were all gone, it meant that their unknown opponent had somehow taken them all out seconds before launching the attack on Salisbury Plain.  It was simply impossible to jam a laser signal, or even detect it.  He keyed the radio and cursed when a wash of static blasted from the speakers.  They were being jammed.  His unit – and every survivor from the garrisons – had been cut off from higher authority.  They were on their own, unable to coordinate with PJHQ or the MOD in fighting off the attack on British soil.  But who were they fighting?
     
    There was another screech of static, followed by a sudden shift into the BBC.  “...Receiving reports of massive explosions in London,” a voice said.  “We have been unable to reach...”
     
    The signal washed out of existence.  For a moment, Gavin was sure that he could hear voices hidden in the static, but he couldn't make out what they were saying.  The BBC had been unable to reach whom?  The Government?  He’d met the Prime Minister during a meeting at PJHQ and he hadn't been too impressed, but he was legal authority.  And if they were at war...Dear God, just who the hell were they fighting?
     
    He jumped out of the command vehicle and sighted a number of soldiers being alternatively bullied or cajoled into work by Sergeant Gibbon.  A handful of men wearing French uniforms were with them, some badly wounded.  The French hadn’t been the only ones hit on the training area, he noted absently.  It was easy to see which British units had been hit as well.
     
    “Sir,” a soldier yelled.  It took Gavin a moment to place him as the commander of a Rapier missile launcher that had been deployed to provide some protection to the tankers.  If they’d had armed weapons...but no one had expected an attack from nowhere.  “Sir, we got some data before they hit us!”
     
    Gavin looked over at him.  It was hardly the proper way to file a report, but under the circumstances he didn't care.  The Rapier was supposed to be monitoring every aircraft flying over the range, including a handful that had been tasked to play enemy aircraft during the exercise.  They should have picked up something...
     
    “Sir, the attackers came out of nowhere,” the soldier said.  “But just before they started firing and we lost the network, the UKADR sounded an alert.  So did the NATO network.  Sir...some of those craft seemed to come from outer space.”
     
    “ Aliens ?”  Gavin said, in frank disbelief.  It was impossible.  And yet it made a certain kind of sense.  Who else would have the power to take out the satellites, drop bombs – kinetic strikes, perhaps - onto the garrisons and presumably hit London as well?  It was impossible, but...he pushed his doubts aside.  “Sergeant, pass the word.  We’ll regroup at Point Alpha – get the military police to sort out who we have left alive and what equipment we have that still works.”
     
    “Sir,” Sergeant Gibbon said.  There was a pause.  “What about civilians, sir?”
     
    Gavin winced.  Salisbury Plain was a designated place of natural beauty, which meant that civilians could and did get underfoot