The east side was lightly held, because most of the Consie forces across the Santine were concentrated on Kohang. The Marine Unit in la Reole could probably have broken out—but in doing so, they would have had to surrender the town and the crucial crossing point. Somebody—somebody with more brains and courage than any of the Yokels at Camp Progress—had decided to hold instead of running.
Lavel had two high-explosive shells, one target solid, and a firecracker round remaining. He chose three east-side bunkers for the HE and the solid. The solid was intended to test the air-defense system of friendly units, but its hundred and eighty kilos weren't going to do anybody it landed on any good. He set his firecracker round to detonate overhead ten seconds after the others splashed.
The console chittered, then glowed green.
Green for ready. Probably the last time Chief Lavel would ever see that message.
He sighed and slapped execute.
The door to the crew compartment was open.Craige wasn't wearing a commo helmet, but she got her hands to her ears at the
The seven-second ROAR-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R! of the sustainer motor shook the world.
The remaining four rounds blasted out at one-a-second intervals like beads on a rosary of thunder.Their back blasts shoved the howitzer down on its suspension and raised huge doughnuts of dust from the surrounding soil.
All done. The fire mission, and the last shred of meaning in Chief Lavel's life.
There was still a green light on the ready-use indicator.
"Booster!" Lavel snapped. "Shell status!"
"One practice ready," said the console in a feminine voice. "Zero rounds in storage."
Lavel turned, rising from his seat with a face like a skull. "You!" he said to Craige. "How many rounds did you load this last time?"
"What?" said Craige. "How . . .? Six, six like you told us. Isn't that—"
"
All the displays of
