The Complete Hammer's Slammers, Vol. 2 полностью

As Peres' driver kickedDixie Dykeforward, Des Grieux's gunnery screen marked a target with a white carat. The barrel of a Hindi gun was rotating to bear when Peres' tank exposed its belly. Excellent camouflage concealed the motion from even the Slammers' high-resolution optics, but the magnetic anomaly detector noticed the shift against the previous electromagnetic background.

Gangbuster II's turret traversed four degrees to starboard on its magnetic gimbals. The cupola tribarrel snarled up at incoming artillery fire,but the only sound within the fighting compartments was the whine of the turret drive motors and the whistling intake of Des Grieux's breath as he prepared to kill a . . . .

The target vanished in the blue-white glare ofHoney Girl's bolt. Broglie had beaten Des Grieux to the shot again, andfuckthat the target was inHoney Girl's primary fire zone.

"Blue Three,"Broglie ordered with his usual insouciant calm."On command, advance two, I repeat two, dikes. Remaining elements, look sharp."

"Driver," Des Grieux ordered, "you heard the bastard."

Medrassi fired, but he didn't have a bloody target for a main-gun bolt, therewasn'tone. A section of dike flash-baked and blew outward as ceramic shards, but Via! what did a couple Hindi infantry matter?

Des Grieux ordered, "Booster, echo main screen, left side of visor, out," and pulled up hard on the seat-control lever. The seat rose. Des Grieux's head slid out of the hatch just as the cupola rotated around him and the tribarrel spat three rounds into the western sky with an acrid stench from the ejected empties.

"Blue Three,go!"

"Goose it, driver!"Des Grieux said as he unclipped the shoulder weapon from his seat and feltGangbuster IIrise beneath him on the thrust of its eight drive fans to mount the dike.

The Han advance was proceeding in reasonable fashion, though at least a score of APCs hung back at the start point. Several laser-vehicles were moving also. The inaction of the rest was more likely the bog than cowardice, though cowardice was never an unreasonable guess when unblooded troops ran into their first firefight.

One laser-vehicle balanced on top of a dike. The fore and aft axles spun their tires in the air, while the grip of the central wheels was too poor to move them off the slick surface. Hindi skirmishers lobbed their buzzbombs at long range toward the teetering vehicle, but the anti-tank guns contemptuously ignored it to wait for a real threat.

To wait for the Slammers' tanks.