"David Drake - Hammer's Slammers 13 - The Sharp End" - читать интересную книгу автора (Drake David)


"You said you wanted to send out one of the tanks with a patrol," Bradkopf said, his memory
unfortunately quite accurate. "For communications."

For stiffening, actually, but the lie was a harmless one.When he'd gotten down to serious planning, he
realized that he didn't dare saddle Frisians тАФhis troops тАФ with any of the National Army units in the
fortress. The locals lacked noise discipline, fire discipline, and target identification skills. A Frisian combat
car was the largest thing around and therefore the most likely target for the National troops who did
manage to shoot.

Furthermore, the locals lacked guts.

"Isaid I'd think about it," Bradkopf said, "and now I find you've stripped me of all my protection! Are
you a traitor?"

"No sir," Coke said, "I'm not a traitor. I тАФ"

Iscrewed up badly,but Bradkopf wasn't the man to admit that to. Coke had taken the chance that the
Marquis wouldn't notice the two combat cars тАФ not tanks тАФ normally parked near his quarters were
missing. If Bradkopf hadn't decided to shoot off flares for his party, Coke would have gotten away with
it.

If.

Coke couldn't quarrel with Bradkopfs assumption that the commander of an 8,000-troop base was
unprotected if two foreign combat vehicles left his presence. It was just that protectingthis commander
was in no sense a military priority for Coke.

"Six, this is Four-Four,"Sergeant Dubose reported tensely through Coke's commo helmet."The troops
are moving out of Three in civilian trucks and wagons. Over."

"General Bradkopf!" Coke said. "Association forces are maneuvering to attack this base tonight."
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html




Not in a few days: in a fewhours.

Fear of a bad rating in his personnel file had turned Coke's skin hot and prickly. The prospect of
imminent combat washed him cool again. Major Matthew Coke was a professional and an employee;
but first of all he was a soldier.

"What?" blurted the Marquis, sounding amazingly like the gunner on phone watch at Battery 7. "An
attackwhere? Have you gone mad?"

"Six,this is Four-Two"Sergeant Lennox reported. There was a lilt, almost a caress in her voice despite
the flattening of spread-band radio communication."The rocket pod's moved out of Two. It's being
pulled by a tractor, now, I'd say it was time, boss. Over"