The Complete Hammer's Slammers, Vol. 2

Later—there was plenty of time later to figure out what had happened—they decided that the standoff mine had been set almost three years before. It'd been intended to hit the lightly armored vehicles the Yokels had been using in the region back then, so its high-sensitivity fuse detonated the charge 200 meters from the oncoming tanks.

Birdie's tanks didn't have—noneof the Hammer's tanks had—its detection apparatus set to sweep that far ahead,because at that range the mine's self-forging projectile couldn't penetrate the armor even of a combat car. What the motion sensor had caught was the warhead shifting slightly to center on its target.

The mine was at the apex of an almost perfect isosceles triangle, with the two tanks forming the other corners. It rotated towardWidowmakerinstead ofDeathdealer.

Both tank commanders' minds were reacting to the dirty, yellow-white blast they saw in the corner of their eyes, but there hadn't been time for muscles to shift enough to wipe away DJ's grin when the projectile clanged againstWidowmaker's sloping turret and glanced upward. It was a bolt of almost-molten copper, forged from a plate into a spearpoint by the explosive that drove it toward its target.

DJ wore ceramic body armor. It shattered as the projectile coursed through the trooper's chest and head.

As Birdie Sparrow hosed the countryside with both his tribarrel and main gun, trying to blast an enemy who'd been gone for years, all he could think was,Thank the Lord it was him and not me.

"Look, y' know it's gonna happen, Birdie," said DJ's ghost earnestly. "It don't mean nothin'."

His voice was normal, but his chest was a gaping cavity and his face had started to splash—the way Birdie'd seen it happen three months before; only slowly, very slowly.

DJ had a metal filling in one of his molars. It glittered as it spun out through his cheek.

"DJ, you gotta stop doin' this," Birdie whimpered. His body was shivering and he wanted to wake up.

"Yeah,well,you better get movin',snake,"DJ said with a shrug of his shoulders almost separated from what was left of his chest. The figure was fading from Birdie's consciousness. "It's starting again, y' know."

shoop

Birdie was out of his shelter and climbing the recessed steps toDeathdealer's turret before he knew for sure he was awake.He was wearing his boots—he hadn't taken them off for more than a few minutes at a time in three months—and his trousers.