"Which way are we going to go, sir?" the technician asked.
The display lurched violently back to the southward.The image jumped as Ran-son shrank the map scale, focusing tightly on la Reole. The numeral "I" overlay the main bridge in the center of the town. The symbol was flashing yellow.
"Which bloody way do you think we're gonna go?" Ortnahme snarled. "You think we're pushin' babycarts? There's only one tank-capable bridge left on the Santine till you've gone all the way north t' bloody bumfuck! And
"W-warrant Leader Ortnahme? I'm sorry, sir."
Blood 'n martyrs.
It musta been lonely, closed up in the driver's compartment.
The Lord knew it was lonely back here in the turret.Wonder if the background whisper of a voice singing in Tagalog came through the intercom circuit?
"S'okay, kid," Ortnahme muttered. "Look, it's just—ridin' on air don't mean we're light, you see? There's still a hundred seventy tonnes t' support, even if the air cushion spreads it out as good as you can. And there's not a bloody lotta bridges that won't go flat with that much weight on 'em."
Ortnahme stared grimly at the screens. Besides la Reole, there were two "I" designators—bridges of unlimited capacity—across the lower Santine, as well as four Category II bridges that might do in a pinch. Updated information from the drone had colored all six of those symbols red—destroyed.
"'Specially with the Consies blowing every curst thing up these coupla days," he added.
"Isee,sir,"the technician said with the nervous warmth of a puppy who's been petted after being kicked. "So we're going through la Reole?"
Ortnahme stared glumly at the screen. The bridge designators weren't the only updated symbols the reconnaissance drone had painted on the map from the Slammers' database.
"Well, kid," the warrant leader said, "there's some problems with that, too . . . ."
"Tootsie Six to Slammer Six," June Ranson said, loading the cartridge that would be transmitted to Firebase Purple in a precisely calculated burst. "Absolute priority."
