The Complete Hammer's Slammers, Vol. 2

"Go ahead, Tootsie,"said the voice of Slammer Six, hard despite all the spreads and attenuations that brought it from Firebase Purple to June Ranson's earphones. "Over."

"Lemme check yer shoulder,"said Stolley to Janacek beside her."C'mon, crack the suit."

"Roger," Ranson said as she checked the positioning of her force in the multifunction display."We're okay, no casualties, but there was an ambush at the Strip settlement just out the gate."

Blue One was ghosting along 200 meters almost directly ahead of

Warmongerat sixty kph. That was about the maximum for an off-road night run, even in this fairly open terrain.

One-one and One-five had taken their flanking positions, echeloned slightly back from the lead tank.The remaining four blowers were spaced tank-car,tankcar, behindWarmonger

like the tail of a broadly diamond-shaped kite.

Just as it ought to be . . . but the ratfuck at Happy Days had cost the task force a good hour.

"We couldn't 've avoided it," Ranson said, "so we shot our way through."

If she'd known,

known,there was a company of Consies in Happy Days,she'd 've bypassed the place by heading north cross-country and cutting east, then south, near Siu Mah. It'd 've been a hundred kilometers out of their way, but—

"Look, bugger off," said Janacek. "I'm fine. I'll take another pill, right?"

"Any of the bypass routes might 've got you in just as deep,"said Colonel Hammer, taking a chance that, because of the time lag, his satellited words were going to step on those of his junior officer. "It's really dropped in the pot, Captain, all the hell over this country. But you don't see any reason that you can't carry out your mission?"

The question was so emotionless that concern stuck out in all directions like barbs from a burr. "Over."

"Quit screw'n around,Checker,"Stolley demanded."You got bits a'jacket metal there. I get 'em out and there's no sweat."

Ranson touched the scale control of her display. The eight discrete dots shrank to a single one, at the top edge of a large-scale moving map that ended at Kohang.

Latches clicked.Janacek had opened his clamshell armor for his buddy's inspection.A bullet had disintegrated on the shield of Janacek'stri barrel during the run through Happy Days; bits of the projectile had sprayed the wing gunner.

Ranson felt herself slipping into the universe of the map, into a world of electronic simulation and holographic intersections that didn't bleed when they dropped from the display.