Armored Warrior Panzerter: Eve of Battle by T. E. Butcher

Author:T. E. Butcher [Butcher, T. E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-06-11T16:00:00+00:00

12

While Meyer collected her notes for the call, Irving found herself unable to focus. Woody Pete is planning something. Up to something. What is he doing? Did he let himself get captured? I doubt Kennedy butt stroking him across the face was part of his plan.

“Irving! Do you have that spreadsheet? The one for ammo count by Battalion,” Meyer said. Irving’s cheeks flushed red.

“I apologize, Comrade Colonel, It’s right here,” she replied. Meyer took the spreadsheet without another word. After eyeing it over a couple times, she set it down, took Irving by the hand, and led her to a corner of the room.

“What’s going on?” she whispered. As far as Irving knew, Meyer was the only person on the planet to whisper to get her point across. “You haven’t been right since we took that partisan prisoner, I know Chaney put a non-executable tag on him, but maybe he can have an accident…”

“I would very much appreciate that,” Irving said. “Something isn’t right about him, how we got him, or what he’s said since coming here.”

Meyer gave her a warm smile and patted her on the shoulder. “We’ll take care of it, after this conference call, now if you can set up the host we can-” She stopped cold.

That’s weird, is someone whistling? Fortunately for Irving, Meyer recognized the sound. The older woman struck her like a speeding car and dove under a table with her. Then someone tossed the world into a blender.

She tried to run. Tried to crawl away. However, the amazon woman with her held her firmly on the floor. Irving screamed, but she couldn’t hear her own voice. She lost it in an orchestra of destruction.

When the world began to still, her head rang. Everything rang. The walls of their wing of town hall had been blown away. Thick smoke drifted into gray skies outside the range of her vision.

Blinking, she realized her eyes stung. She felt something in her leg. As she tried to sit up and look, Meyer pushed her back to the floor.

She couldn’t hear her commander’s words, but she knew she didn’t want her to look. Meyer signaled to her to “be still” and she tied a tourniquet made from her sleeve onto Irving's leg. Then she darted off, possibly seeking help, possibly establishing order, likely both.

Irving closed her eyes. She worked her mouth and felt her ears. Her left, the one facing the blast, bled while the other didn’t. As her hearing slowly came back to her, she heard cries of pain and shots all around her. Beneath her pain, perhaps as a method of preserving her sanity, her tactical mind kicked into gear.

Why did they hit us with artillery? How did they know we were here? Are we about to receive a follow up attack? She glanced over to a broken monitor. In its cracked reflection, she could see over the fallen wall next to her. She also saw the long piece of rebar pinning her leg to the ground.

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