THE ZONE 02 Blind Fire by Blind Fire

Author:Blind Fire
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-12-21T16:05:19+00:00

EIGHT

The Soviet column was still travelling fast, making no concession to changes in the terrain or its surroundings. One after another, Revell watched the huge tanks and self-propelled guns thunder into his sights, saw the crosshairs centre first on their broad frontal armour, then on their threshing tracks and mud-spattered road wheels. He was counting, ticking off each one in his mind and waiting for the first of the personnel carriers.

Every component of the building’s fabric shook as the steel Leviathans pounded past. The last few shards of glass tinkled from the trembling frames and plaster fell from the walls and ceilings.

Twenty. Damn it, it had to be soon. Twenty-one, any moment now... the range was insanely short ... it was a hell of a gamble ...would the missile’s thirty-two miniature thruster rockets lift it high enough after it popped from the tube ...would it climb close enough to the line of sight on which he was aiming to score a vital hit?

Twenty-two. A long gap that time, sloppy station keeping. Twenty-three, another confounded self-propelled gun. Twenty-four... this was it His thumb crushed down hard on the firing button and he felt the heat of the back blast

Filling the shop with dust, the roaring tongue of recoil-cancelling gas and flame sent a great cloud of it billowing out into the street. The Dragon’s position was instantly betrayed, but for the APC it was already too late.

Twin threads of wire unreeling behind it, the. anti-tank round skimmed the road towards its target, climbing and accelerating as it went. Revell had the command unit aligned on the vehicle’s front, just below the sharp angle made by its hull top and glacis plate: actual impact was a metre to one side of that, on its left track.

White smoke, giant orange sparks and flying fragments filled the street, and throwing its severed track out behind it the disabled vehicle slewed across the road and smashed into the front of a bank. Huge chunks of masonry fell on to the hull.

‘Go get ‘em, Major.’ Cohen snapped a reload into place as a second carrier raced out of the smoke, pumping high explosive shells indiscriminately from its turret gun and spitting tracer from every weapon port.

There was hardly time for Revell to aim. At even closer range than the first shot, there was little chance of the powerful warhead impacting against the APCs hull, and it didn’t. He watched it spurt into the dark gap between the road and the vehicle’s belly plate. The result was as spectacular as it was unexpected.

With a shattering report the APC was lifted high off the ground, to fall back and lurch a couple of metres on distorted track and buckled wheels, then stall and present a perfect sitting target. It was an opportunity the major wouldn’t pass up.

As hatches flew open and the escaping crew and infantry were met by a hail of machine gun fire, Revell took his time and, with the front feet of the Dragon tripod packed to give extra elevation, fired a third round.

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