The female escort sniffed."Its luck ran out.Took as hell down the open hatch. All they gotta do now is jack up what's left and slide a new tank underneath."
"Dunno how anybody can ride those fat bastards," the other escort muttered. "They maneuver like blind whales."
"Glad you could rejoin us, Sergeant," Major Steuben said. He gave the data terminal in his left hand to a lieutenant beside him. His voice was lilting and as pretty as Steuben's appearance, but it cut through any thought Des Grieux had of snarling a response to the combat-car crewman beside him.
"Sir," Des Grieux muttered. The Slammers didn't salute. Salutes in a war zone targeted officers for possible snipers.
"Would you like to explain your actions during the battle last night, Sergeant?" the major asked.
Steuben stood arms akimbo. His pose accentuated the crisp tuck of his waist. The fall of the slim right hand almost concealed the pistol riding in a cut-out holster high on Steuben's right hip.
The pistol was engraved and inlaid with metal lozenges in a variety of colors. In all respects but its heavy 1cm bore, it looked as surely a girl's weapon as its owner looked like a girl.
Joachim Steuben's eyes focused on Des Grieux. There was not a trace of compassion in the eyes or the soul beneath them. Any weapon in Steuben's hands was Death.
"I was winning a battle,"Des Grieux said as his eyes mirrored Steuben's blank, brown glare."Sir. Since the relieving force was still sitting on its hands after three weeks."
Broglie slid his body between Des Grieux and the major. Broglie was fast, but Steuben's pistol was socketed in Broglie's ear before the tanker's motion was half complete.
"I think Sergeant Des Grieux and I can continue our discussion better without you in the way, Mister Broglie," Steuben said. He didn't move his eyes from Des Grieux.
The White Mice hadn't bothered to remove the pistol from the holster on Des Grieux's equipment belt. Now Des Grieux knew why. Nobody could be that fast . . . .
"Sir,"Broglie rasped through a throat gone dry."Warrior did destroy both the Rep firebases. That's what took the pressure off here at the end."
Broglie stepped back to where he'd been standing.
He looked straight ahead, not at either Des Grieux or the major.
"You've named your tank Warrior, Sergeant?" Steuben said. "Amusing. But right at the moment I'm not so much interested in what you did as I am in why you disobeyed orders to do it."
He reholstered his gorgeous handgun with a motion as precise and delicate as that of a bird preening its feathers.
"You got some people killed, you know," the major added. His voice sounded cheerful, or at least amused."Your lieutenant and his driver, because nobody was dealing with the shells from Hill 504."
He smiled coquettishly at Des Grieux. "I won't blame you for the other one. Hawes, was it?"
"Hawes, sir," Broglie muttered.
"Since Hawes was stupid enough to leave his position also," Steuben went on. "And I don't care a great deal about Federal casualties, except as they affect the Regiment's contractual obligations."
The pause was deadly.
"Which, since we have won the battle for them, shouldn't be a problem."
"Sir," Des Grieux said, "they were wide open. It was the one chance we were going to have to pay the Reps back for the three weeks we sat and took it."
Major Steuben turned his head slowly and surveyed the battered Federal encampment. His tongue went tsk, tsk, tsk against his teeth.
Warrior was parked alongside Broglie's Honey Girl in the center of the hill. Warrior's bow skirts had cracked as well as bending inward when 170 tonnes slammed down on them. Kuykendall had earned her pay, keeping the tank moving steadily despite the damage.
Des Grieux's gaze followed the major's.Honey Girl had been hit by at least three buzzbombs on this side. None of the sun-hot jets seemed to have penetrated the armor. Broglie had been in the thick of it, with the only functional tank remaining when the Reps blew their way through the bunker line . . . .
The Federal gun emplacements were nearby. The Fed gunners had easily been the best of the local troops. They'd hauled three howitzers up from the gun pits to meet the Republican assault with canister and short-fused high explosive.
That hadn't been enough.Buzzbombs and grenades had disabled the howitzers, and a long line of bodies lay beside the damaged hardware.
"You know, Sergeant?" Steuben resumed unexpectedly. "Colonel Hammer found the relief force's progress a bit leisurely for his taste also. So he sent me to take command . . . and a platoon of Alpha Company, you know. To encourage the others."
He giggled. It was a terrible sound, like gas bubbling through the throat of a distended corpse.
"We were about to take Hill 541 South," Steuben continued. "In twenty-four hours we would have relieved the position here with minimal casualties. The Reps knew that, so they made a desperation assault . . . which couldn't possibly have succeeded against a bunker line backed up by four of our tanks."
Joachim's eyes looked blankly through Des Grieux.
"That's why," the delicate little man said softly, "I really think I ought to kill you now, before you cause other trouble."
"Sir," said Broglie. "Slick cleared our left flank. That had to be done."
Major Steuben's eyes focused again, this time on Broglie. "Did it?" the major said."Not from outside the prepared defenses, I think.And certainly not against orders from a superior officer, who was—"
The cold stare again at Des Grieux. No more emotion in the eyes than there would be in the muzzle of the pistol which might appear with magical speed in Joachim's hand.
"Who was, as I say," the major continued, "passing on my orders."
"But . . ." Des Grieux whispered. "I won."
"No," Steuben said in a crisply businesslike voice. Moods seemed to drift over the dapper officer's mind like clouds across the sun."You ran, Sergeant.I had to make an emergency night advance with the only troops I could fully trust—"
He smiled with cold affection at the nearest of his White Mice.
"In order to prevent Hill 541 North from being overrun.And even then I would have failed, were it not for the actions of Mister Broglie."
"Broglie?" Des Grieux blurted in amazement.
"Oh, yes,"Joachim said."Oh, yes, Mister Broglie. He took charge here after the Federal CP was knocked out and Mister Lindgren was killed. He put Susie Q's driver back into the turret of the damaged tank and used that to stabilize the left flank. Then he led the counterattack which held the Reps on the right flank until my platoon arrived to finish the business."