"E. C. Tubb - Dumarest 15 - Spectrum of a Forgotten Sun" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tubb E. C)

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The tide of battle had moved to the south, gunfire echoing from the
area of warehouses huddled close to the field, flames rising from burning
houses, some lurid with the writhing colors of fuming chemicals.
Swathes of green and orange, darts of blue and amber, a golden haze
shot with the searing brilliance of burning magnesium which obliviated
the need of flares and sent shadows dancing over the torn street and
shattered buildings. An eruption of violence wasteful in its extravagance
for, as he knew, the battle was over, the victory assured to the other side.
But war did not have a tidy ending and armed men, fearful of their lives,
would take no chances.

As his hand fell from the dead man's throat Dumarest heard the scuff
of a boot, a sharp, metallic sound, and was moving as gunfire tore the air
and missiles threw gouts of dirt from where he had knelt.

"Captain! I've got one! Here!"

The gun fired again as Dumarest rolled, the man holding it too
excited to take careful aim. Bullets sprayed the ground, one tearing at the
heel of a boot, another ripping through armor to graze a shoulder, the
impact like the kick of a horse.

"Captain!"

Dumarest felt the jar of his helmet against stone and flung himself
behind a sheltering mass of fallen debris, moving towards the end as
bullets sent chips whining through the air. From cover he peered up and
outwards, seeing the figure silhouetted against the lambent glow. A man,
young from the sound of his voice, wearing the black and maroon of the
opposing forces, a sub-machine gun cradled in his arms. A raw recruit on
his first mission, forgetting elementary precautions in his excited desire
to kill. A veteran would have taken cover, aimed with care, counted his
shots, and Dumarest would now be dead. Instead the fool stood in full
view, firing wildly, the gun failing silent as the magazine exhausted itself.

As he reloaded Dumarest rose, his own gun lifting, leveling, his finger
checking on the trigger as a deep voice called from one side.

"Lorne! Down, you fool! Down!"

To fire now would be to betray his position, to invite answering fire
from the man who had called. A veteran, this, knowing better than to
show himself, one who would not miss.

"Captain! He's over there! Behind that stone!"

"Down, you fool! Hit the dirt!"

"ButтАФ"