"How d'ye mean?" Kuykendall asked.
Her voice came over the intercom channel. She'd slipped back into the driver's compartment.Most drivers found the internal hatch too tight for use in anything less than a full buttoned-up emergency.
"They've got calliopes up there,"Des Grieux explained as he scanned the bleak silence of Hill 661. The Republican positions were in defilade. Easy enough to arrange from their greater height.
"If it was me,"Des Grieux continued,"I'd pick my time and roll'er up to direct fire positions. They'd kick the cop outa this place."
"They're not going to bet 3cm calliopes against tank main guns, Sarge," Kuykendall said carefully.
"They would if they had any balls,"Des Grieux said.His voice was coldly judgmental, stating the only truth there was. He showed no anger toward those who were too stupid to see it. "Dug in like we are, they could blow away the cupolas and our sensor arrays before we even got the main guns to bear. A calliope's no joke, kid."
He laughed harshly. "Wish they'd try, though. I can hip-shoot a main gun if I have to."
"There's talk they're going to try t' overrun us before Task Force Howes relieves us," Kuykendall said with the guarded nonchalance she always assumed when talking to the tank commander.
Des Grieux's two years in the Slammers made him a veteran,but he was scarcely one of the longest-serving members of the regiment. His drive, his skill with weapons, and the phenomenal ruthlessness with which he accomplished any task set him gave Des Grieux a reputation beyond simple seniority.
"There's talk," Des Grieux said coldly.
The tribarrel roused, swung, and ignited the sky with a four-round burst of plasma.A shell from Hill 504 broke apart without detonating.The largest piece of casing was still a white glow when it tumbled out of sight in the valley below.
The sky flickered to the south as well, but at such a distance that the sounds faded to a low rumble. Task Force Howes still slugged it out with the Republicans who defended Route 7. Maybe they were going to get here within seventy-two hours. And maybe Hell was going to freeze over.
Des Grieux scanned Hill 661, and nothing moved.
The only thing Des Grieux knew in the instant he snapped awake from a sound sleep was that it was time to earn his pay.
