[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]forefinger bent at a fey angle, tapped the key once.
Rotating spear points of flame flickered from the
multiple barrels of the machine gun. The 7.62 mm
rounds punched a cross-stitch pattern in the dirt, the
lines of impact scampering and intersecting with a
pair of the troopers. They were flung around in mists
of blood. The jackhammer roar was muted by the hull
of the OGRE, but the results of its full-auto burst
were not At that range, nothing could survive the
withering lead hail.
Kane tapped the key again and silenced the mini-
gun. "Get us moving. Drive us closer to the monu-
ment "
Dent hesitated only an instant before shifting le-
vers and pressing the gas pedal. The armored vehicle
groaned and bounced along in first gear until the en-
gine hit a high, straining note, then Dent upshifted.
Peering through the port, Kane saw three of the
Battle Class breed run into the path of the OGRE,
waving their rifles over their heads, trying to flag the
vehicle to a stop. The pilot eased the pressure of his
foot from the gas pedal.
"Run them down," Kane snapped.
"They're our own men!"
"They aren't men at all. Run them down, I said."
Dent paled but did as he was ordered. He slammed
his foot against the accelerator, flooring it The
OGRE surged forward.
The troopers turned to run. One of them managed
to leap out of the vehicle's path, but the prow of the
OGRE slammed into the other two, knocking them
down, crushing them beneath the ponderous, clatter-
ing treads.
The OGRE chugged its way up a slope, through a
stand of sagebrush and down into an arroyo. As the
deeply fissured and creviced base of Mount Rush-
more filled the ob port, the pilot asked, "Where are
we going?"
"Not much farther," Kane replied. "Just until
we're in range.'' I'll you know."
Dent cast him a worried glance, but said nothing.
After another minute of steady forward rumbling,
Kane said, "Stop us here."
The pilot stamped on the brakes hard, and the
OGRE lurched to a squealing halt. Kane kept the
blaster trained on the man, smiling a knowing smile.
He had expected Dent to try to throw him off balance
and so had braced himself against the copilot's seat.
"Now what?" Dent was starting to show some
attitude.
Kane's left hand deftly played over the keys of the
fire-control board, realigning the mortar launchers,
configuring the targeting scanner. The graven image
of Adolf Hitler swelled within the scope, and Kane
centered the crosshairs on his granite mustache. Then
he brought his finger down hard on the key in a sav-
age, stabbing motion.
The mortar tubes erupted with flame, smoke and
noise. He launched them all, more or less simulta-
neously. Dent shrieked, his eyes bulging in hysteria.
The huge visage of Hitler disappeared beneath
tongues of yellow flame and billowing puffballs of
smoke. Chunks of rock erupted, rattling down on the
OGRE's hull, beating like outraged fists. The pilot
screamed with each detonation, clawing at his face,
his gaze glued to the targeting scope. After the last
warhead exploded, Kane waited silently for the
smoke to clear.
Hitler's likeness was completely unrecognizable as
either the leader of the Reich or as a man. Huge
smoking craters dotted the massive face, completely
obliterating his features. A pattern of cracks was
riven deeply through the sculpture, and Kane figured
the next half-decent storm would cause what was left
of it to collapse.
"Do you think that's enough?" Kane asked. "Or
should we give him a light once over with the Blitz
cannon?"
Dent buried his face in his shaking hands. He made
retching noises. "You bastard...you bastard..."
Kane rapped him smartly on the back of the head
with the barrel of the Sin Eater. "Shut up. Get it
together and get us moving back to the base."
Groaning between clenched teeth, Dent threw the
machine into gear and steered away from the mon-
ument in a ninety-degree turn. Kane yanked the
power cables from the radio set and put them in a
pocket
"Keep following my orders," he said, "and you'll
live through this. Disobey a single one, and I'll leave
you here for what's left of the Roamers to find."
He pointed to the unconscious, bloodied copilot
"The same thing goes for him when-or if-he
comes around."
He pushed the button to raise the door and stepped
down into the personnel compartment Salvo chose
that instant to hammer the butt of a Sturmgewher into
his groin.
Chapter 24
Grant and Brigid went for their side arms at the same
time. Before either one had their weapons more than
halfway out of the holsters, Thrush was aiming his
own pistol directly at them. Grant froze, staring
dumbfounded. He had only the briefest of impres-
sions of a blur of movement before the Sin Eater
sprouted magically from the end of Thrush's arm.
"Oh, yes," Thrush said quietly. "I am that fast.
Surely your compatriots must have informed you of
that."
Shoving his pistol back into the holster, Grant said,
"I saw it for myself."
Thrush cocked his head questioningly. "Indeed?
When or where was that?"
"Nearly two hundred years ago, in the basement
of the Russian embassy in Washington. I watched
you murder a man with a nerve poison."
Thrush moved his head fractionally. "Oh, yes, Fe-
lix. So that was you I sensed. I'm able to detect
anomalous electromagnetic signatures, but I'm not al-
ways able to identify them."
"So you're not perfect," Brigid commented.
"I don't recall ever making that claim. But then,
I've made so many claims in so many places it's
possible I might have implied something along those
lines."
Thrush's dark-lensed gaze shifted to Lakesh. "And
I've extracted so many troublesome factors. It be-
comes wearying."
He wagged the barrel of his weapon. "Let us move
along and continue with the tour. I'll take over from
this point onward."
Lakesh displayed no fear whatsoever, not even a
mild anxiety. With a touch of disdain, a whiff of
defiance he inquired, "So you're a silent invader, too,
aren't you?"
"Don't employ my own euphemism against me,
Administrator," Thrush retorted. "I've been here
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]zanotowane.pldoc.pisz.plpdf.pisz.plkajaszek.htw.pl
