Team Yankee by Harold Coyle

Author:Harold Coyle [Coyle, Harold]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Suspense, Thriller, Military
ISBN: 9780425110423
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 1987-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT.

R and R.

The damned fly kept bothering him. It wasn’t the buzzing so much. Bannon could block that out. It was the fact that the bastard kept landing on the cut on the side of his face and irritating it. He’d no sooner shoo it away with a halfhearted wave of his hand than it would come back and land. How could he get any sleep with that damned fly bothering him. Sleep.

“SLEEP! MY GOD, I’VE FALLEN ASLEEP!” That thought stunned Bannon. His eyes popped open and were greeted by the morning sun. Almost instinctively, his arm shot up to check the time on his watch. 0548. The Team had missed its move-out time by over two hours! Now it was full daylight. Chances of slipping away under the cover of darkness were gone.

Bannon looked over into the loader’s hatch. Newman was sitting upright on his seat sound asleep. A scan of the tight circle of tank and PCs failed to reveal any sign of movement. Instead of being alert and watching their sectors, track commanders were slumped across their machine guns asleep. Infantrymen lay curled up on the ground asleep where they had fallen. Even the wounded were quiet. The calamity was complete. Team Yankee had collectively gone to sleep.

Bannon jumped down to awaken the crew of 55. The gunner was lying up against the main gun. “Sergeant GWENT! Sergeant GWENT! WAKE UP!” Gwent sat up, shook his head, then jumped when he realized he had fallen asleep.

“Oh shit, sir. I fell asleep. Goddamn, I’m sorry.” “Well, don’t feel like the Lone Ranger.

Everyone is asleep. ” Gwent suddenly realized what Bannon was telling him, and that it was light outside. His eyes grew big. “You mean we didn’t pull off that hill yet? We’re still behind enemy lines?”

“Target. Now get the rest of the crew up while I wake the Team up. AND DON’T CRANK THE TANK.”

Without waiting for a response, Bannon climbed out and began to dismount the tank. The spaghetti cord connecting the CVC to the intercom jerked his head back to remind him to disconnect it before jumping off 55. Once disconnected and on the ground, he headed for the first leader he saw, Polgar. Polgar was asleep, leaning against the side of a tree with his Ml6 cradled in his arms. After being shaken a moment, his eyes opened into narrow slits, looked to the left, looked to the right, looked at Bannon, then flew wide open. “SHIT! I fell asleep.”

“Well, Sergeant Polgar, you ain’t alone. Wake up the XO and your people while I get the tank crews. Gather the leadership at 55 when they’re up. AND DON’T START ANY ENGINES.

Clear?”

“Clear.” With that, Polgar was up in a flash, hustling from body to body, waking each one up with kicks, shakes, and curses. Bannon trotted over to

31.

Garger was leaning over backwards, asleep, arms extended and stiff. He looked as if he had been shot. “Gerry! Gerry! Lieutenant Garger! WAKE UP!” His eyes opened in tiny slits.

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