Wager turned at last. "We're putting the name on our tank," he croaked.
Wager's vacant expression turned to utter malevolence. "She's ours and we can call her anything we bloody please!"he shouted hoarsely."They're not takin' her and givin' us some clapped out old cow instead, d'ye hear? Not even the Old Man's gonna take her away from us!"
The warrant leader looked at the tank that had only been a call sign until now.
The turret had taken at least a dozen direct hits, most of them from armor-piercing shot. Ortnahme wondered if any part of the sensor array had survived.
One round had blasted a cavity in the stubby barrel of the main gun. It hadn't penetrated, but until the tube was replaced, firing the 20cm weapon would be as dangerous as juggling contact grenades.
Even a layman could see that the tribarrel's ammunition had chain-fired in its loading tube, vaporizing the weapon, the hatch, and the cupola itself. The warrant leader knew what a layman wouldn't: that when the bloody ammo went, it would've reamed its tubeway as wide as a cow's cunt, seriously weakening the turret forging itself. The whole bloody turret would have to be replaced before Ortnahme would certify
Plus, of course, the fan nacelle. Pray Lord it was the only one gone when he and Simkins got underneath to look.
"No argument from me, snake," Henk Ortnahme said mildly. "I figure you guys earned the right to ride whatever you bloody well please."
Simkins had to keep moving for another half hour or so. Ortnahme nodded to the tankers, then walked on slowly with the technician's hand in his for guidance.
Behind them, Wager painted the last letter of
Suzette, Lady Kung, wore neat fatigues and a look of irritation as she glanced over her shoulder toward the commotion by the door.
"Suzi!"Dick Suilin called,past the sergeant major who blocked him and Cooter from the dignitaries milling in the conference room.
His sister's expression shifted through blank amazement to a mixture of love and horror. "Dick!" she cried. "Dick! Oh good Lord!"
She darted toward Suilin with her arms spread, striding fast enough to make her lustrous hair stream back from her shoulderblades.
The sergeant major didn't know what was going on, but he knew enough to get out of the way of the governor's wife. He sprang to attention and repeated in a parade-ground voice what Cooter had told him: "Sir! The representatives of Task Force Ranson."
