"I didn't know you were going to be here when I took the transfer to Hotel," Des Grieux blurted.He hadn't planned to say that; hadn't
"Figured that," said Broglie, nodding. He looked toward the horizon, then added,"You belong in tanks,Slick.They're the greatest force multiplier there is. A man who can use weapons like you ought to have the best weapons."
It wasn't flattery; just cold truth, the way Des Grieux had admitted that Broglie was a dead shot. It occurred to Des Grieux that his personal feelings about Brogue were mutual and always had been.
He said nothing aloud. If the company commander had come to talk, the company commander could talk.
"What's your tank's name, Slick?" Broglie asked.
Des Grieux shrugged. "I didn't name her," he said. "The guy I replaced did. I don't care cop about her name."
"That's not what I asked," Broglie said. "Sergeant."
"Right," said Des Grieux. His eyes were straight ahead, toward the horizon in which the far wall of the valley rose. "The name's
"Glad to be back in tanks?" Broglie asked. His voice was neutral, but it left no doubt that he expected answers, whether or not Des Grieux saw any point in giving them.
"Any place is fine," Des Grieux said, turning abruptly toward Broglie again. "Just so long as they let me do my job."
The anger in Des Grieux's tone surprised even him. He added more mildly, "Yeah, sure, I like tanks. And if you mean it's been five years—don't worry about it. I haven't forgotten where the controls are."
"I don't worry about you knowing how to handle any bloody weapon there is, Slick," Broglie said. They stared into one another's eyes, guarded but under control. "I might worry about the way you took orders, though."
Des Grieux swallowed. A billow of dust rose around
Des Grieux let the grit settle behind them before he said,"Nobody has to worry about
"A soldier's job is to obey orders, Slick," Broglie said flatly. "The time when heroes put on their armor and went off to single combat, that ended four thousand years ago. D'ye understand me?"
