Gunheads(科幻战争)-第59章

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explain　his　impromptu　retreat。
One　of　the　ork　trucks　spat　a　great　gout　of　flame；　and　von　Holden’s　Chimera　was　knocked
sideways；　slewing　to　a　halt。　The　high…explosive　round　had　shredded　her　right　tread。
Von　Holden　checked　himself　for　injuries。
“I’m　all　right；”　he　gasped。　“By　the　Throne；　I’m　all　right！”
He　didn’t　see　the　dark　shadow　in　the　sky　above　him。　It　dropped　something　small　and　oval。
Seconds　later；　the　burning　debris　of　his　Chimera　rained　back　to　the　ground。
Janz　von　Holden　was　dead。
Without　Katz；　Bergen　was　having　a　hard　time　monitoring　all　the　vox　traffic　from　his　regimental
commanders。　He　had　taken　on　a　temporary　aide　by　the　name　of　Simms；　a　youngster　from　one　of
Captain　Immrich’s　support　crews。　All　things　considered；　Simms　wasn’t　doing　a　bad　job。
Over　the　noise　of　stubber　fire　rattling　off　his　Chimera’s　armour；　Bergen　heard　Captain
Immrich’s　voice　in　his　right　ear。　Simms　had　patched　him　straight　through。　At　least　the　boy　was　a
quick　learner。
“We’ve　practically　wiped　out　their　tanks；　sir；”　said　Immrich。　“They　looked　tough；　but　they　were
a　bunch　of　junkers。　Half　of　them　blew　themselves　up。　Just　a　few　left　now。　Companies　one　through
four　are　tackling　the　static　defences。　I’ve　ordered　them　to　ram　the　gun…towers　rather　than　waste
ammunition。　Those　things　look　ready　to　fall　over　in　the　next　breeze　anyway。　There　are　other
garrisoned　structures　here；　so　I’m　hitting　them　with　high…ex　shells。　Companies　five　to　ten　are
already　mopping　up　the　last　of　the　artillery　pieces。　However；　six　and　seven　took　heavy　losses　on　the
way　through　the　horde。　The　orks　are　employing　short…range　RPGs　and　magnetic　mines。　Warn　the
Armoured　Fist　units　not　to　get　as　close　as　we　did。　I’m　ordering　my　Exterminators　and　Executioners
to　push　through　and　join　us。　With　my　armour　on　this　side　and　the　infantry　on　the　other；　we　can　really
start　to　punish　them。”
Bergen　was　about　to　respond　when　a　terrifying　sound；　halfway　between　a　scream　and　a　roar；　cut
across　the　noise　of　the　battle。
Captain　Immrich　had　heard　it；　too。　Then；　apparently；　he　saw　it。
“Holy　frak！”　he　voxed。　“That’s　big。”
By　the　Golden　Throne；　thought　Bergen。　Don’t　let　it　be　what　I　think　it　is。
“What　can　you　see；　captain？”　he　demanded。　“What　the　hell　is　it？”
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CHAPTER　THIRTY…ONE
Immrich　was　absolutely　frozen　in　his　seat。
An　armoured　behemoth　lumbered　into　view　around　a　towering　mountain　of　rusting　scrap　metal。
It　was　easily　twenty　metres　tall　at　the　shoulder；　almost　thirty　with　its　heavily　armed　howdah。
This　was　no　rickety　ork　contraption。　It　was　a　living　thing；　a　member　of　the　ork　race；　but　so
gigantic；　so　utterly　different　in　physical　form　from　its　smaller　kin　that　it　seemed　a　different　species
altogether；　unrelated　in　anything　other　than　skin　colour　and　temperament。
“Squiggoth！”　Immrich　gasped。
“Damn；”　voxed　Bergen。　“Did　you　just　say　squiggoth？”
“I　did；　sir。　But　I’ve　never…　It’s　gargantuan；　sir！　And　it’s　not　happy　to　see　us。”
With　a　calmness　Immrich　did　not　feel；　he　added；　“You’ll　have　to　excuse　me；　sir。　I　think　my
tankers　and　I　are　about　to　be　very；　very　busy。”
*　*　*
Wulfe’s　mouth　hung　open　as　the　biggest　living　thing　he　had　ever　seen　filled　his　forward　vision
blocks。　It　was　a　nightmare　of　armour…plated　muscle　and　teeth。　Its　scaly　skin　looked　as　tough　as　rock。
Each　of　the　jutting　lower　tusks　was　easily　as　long　as　a　Vanquisher　cannon　barrel　and　many　times
thicker；　and　its　eyes；　those　giant　glistening　red　orbs；　burned　with　all　the　rage　and　insane　bloodlust　of
its　kind。　The　squiggoth　shook　its　massive　head　and　bellowed　a　challenge　at　the　Cadian　tanks。　Wulfe
felt　his　whole　turret　vibrating。
“By　the　bloody　Throne！”　exclaimed　Beans。
“You　can　say　that　again；”　Metzger　replied。
“Siegler；”　said　Wulfe；　still　unable　to　blink。　“High…explosive。　Load　her　up。　Beans；　draw　a　bead　on
that　thing　and　make　it　fast。　You　can’t　miss。”
To　the　left　and　right；　other　turrets　were　already　turning。　Surely　together；　thought　Wulfe；　with　all
our　firepower　combined；　we’ll　be　able　to　put　the　bastard　down。
It　was　Lieutenant　Keissler；　recently　appointed　second…in…command　of　the　regiment；　who　was　the
first　to　issue　the　fire　command。　Flame　licked　out　from　the　muzzle　of　his　tank；　The　Damascine。　The
first　shell　struck　the　beast’s　armour…plated　shoulder　with　a　burst　of　fire　and　smoke。　The　squiggoth
made　an　angry　rumbling　noise　deep　in　its　throat　and　turned　to　face　Keissler’s　tank　full　on。　It　wasn’t
even　scratched。
“Frak；”　muttered　Wulfe。　“That’s　just　made　it　angry。”
Over　the　intercom；　he　said；　“Metzger；　get　ready　to　run。　You　understand？”
“Already　ahead　of　you；　sarge；”　replied　the　driver。　He　began　rotating　the　hull　away　from　the
squiggoth；　rolling　one　tread　forward；　the　other　one　back。
“Beans；”　said　Wulfe。　“Hit　it　somewhere　soft。”
“Belly　shot；”　said　Beans。　“I　think　I　can　get　one　under　the　skirts　of　the　howdah。”
Other　tanks　began　blasting　away。　Most　of　the　shells　struck　the　howdah；　and　the　orks　onboard
began　firing　back　with　rockets　and　heavy　stubbers。　Their　aim　was　terrible。　Bullets　stitched　the　dirt。
The　rockets　corkscrewed　and　exploded　harmlessly　in　the　air。
Then　the　howdah’s　gigantic　main　gun　fired。
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The　sound　made　the　squiggoth　buck　and　rear；　throwing　off　most　of　its　passengers。　They
plummeted；　hit　the　sand　hard；　and　lay　there；　twisted　and　unmoving。
A　Destroyer　on　Wulfe’s　left　was　suddenly　swallowed　in　a　great　ball　of　fire。　Tiny　metal　pieces
rained　down　on　Last　Rites　II。
“Frak；”　exclaimed　Metzger　over　the　intercom。　“We　have　to　move。”
The　other　tanks　were　pounding　it；　but　the　squiggoth　wasn’t　even　bleeding。
It　clawed　at　the　dirt；　preparing　to　charge。
“What　are　you　waiting　for；　Beans？”　Wulfe　demanded。　“Fire！”
“Brace！”　shouted　Beans。
Last　Rites　II　kicked　and　sent　a　glowing　round　towards　the　squiggoth’s　belly。
There　was　a　burst　of　fire。　The　monster　brayed。　When　the　smoke　cleared；　its　belly　scales　were
blackened；　but　undamaged。
That　damned　thing’s　skin　must　be　thicker　than　our　bloody　hull；　thought　Wulfe。
The　squiggoth　had　had　more　than　enough　of　the　tanks。　With　another　deep　bellow；　it　lumbered
towards　them；　kicking　ork　huts　and　squig　pens　out　of　its　way；　trampling　everything　unlucky　enough
to　get　in　its　path。　For　the　most　part；　this　meant　squigs；　orks　and　gretchin；　but　one　of　the　tanks　from
Lieutenant　Czurloch’s　3rd　Company　wasn’t　quick　enough。
It　had　stalled。
As　Last　Rites　II　accelerated　away；　Wulfe　looked　back　to　see　the　unlucky　tank　and　its　crew
crushed　almost　flat　by　a　massive　clawed　foot。
“That　thing　must　weigh　a　thousand　tonnes！”　he　exclaimed。
Tanks　were　scattering　in　every　direction；　and　officers　started　shouting　over　the　vox；　trying　to
keep　their　companies　together；　to　maintain　some　kind　of　discipline。　Turrets　turned　to　fire　back　at　the
enraged　beast；　but　shot　after　shot　burst　on　its　armour；　only　serving　to　enrage　it　further。
Immrich’s　urgent　voice　cut　across　all　the　panicked　chatter。　“Listen　up；　tankers。　Switch　to
armour…piercing。　High…ex　isn’t　doing　a　damned　thing。　And　try　to　draw　it　onto　the　rear　ork　lines。　It’s
mad　as　hell。　We　can　use　that　to　our　advantage。”
Wulfe　took　half　a　second　to　survey　the　rest　of　the　battlefield。　Much　of　it　was　obscured　by　dust
and　smoke；　but　what　he　could　see　was　an　absolute　maelstrom；　the　fighting　insanely　fierce　in　every
quarter。
Once　Immrich　had　dropped　the　link；　van　Droi’s　voice　came　through。
“You　heard　the　captain；　Gunheads；”　he　voxed。　“Stick　together。　Follow　1st　Company’s　lead。　And
keep　firing；　for　Throne’s　sake。”
“That　idiot　captain　is　going　to　get　us　all　killed；　lieutenant；”　said　a　voice　that　made　Wulfe　scowl。
“We　should　scatter。　Think　about　it。　The　minute　we　crash　back　into　the　rear　ork　lines；　our　speed’ll
drop　by　half。　That　big　beast　will　stomp　us。”
“Do　as　you’re　bloody　told；　Lenck；”　van　Droi　barked　back。　“That’s　an　order！”
Wulfe　cursed。　He　could　picture　Lenck’s　snide　face。　That　piece　of　crap！　He　would　put　his　own
survival　first　every　damned　time。　Maybe　van　Droi　would　see　that　now。
Wulfe　looked　out　and　saw　that　the　giant　squiggoth　was　giving　chase。　The　ground　shook。　Every
footfall　was　like　a　miniature　earthquake。
Last　Rites　II　bounced　and　swayed　as　she　crashed　over　the　orks’　backs；　Metzger　keeping　her
speed　as　high　as　he　could。
“Armour…piercing　up　the　spout；　sarge；”　reported　Siegler。　“Locked　and　lit。”
“Line　her　up；　Beans；”　said　Wulfe。　“You’ll　have　to　fire　on　the　move。　Just　do　your　best。”
Beans　didn’t　answer。　He　was　concentrating　hard。
“Brace！”　he　shouted。
The　tank　kicked。　The　turret　basket　filled　with　smoke。
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“What　are　they　playing　at？”　demanded　General　deViers。　“I　want　that　damned　thing　killed　this
instant！”
A　wind　had　picked　up；　dragging　the　smoke　and　dust　away　from　the　battlefield；　improving
visibility　with　each　passing　moment。
Brave　men　were　fighting　for　their　lives　all　around　his　Chimera；　but　it　was　the　squiggoth　that　held
the　general’s　eye。　It　was　the　biggest　threat　on　the　battlefield；　and　that　made　it　the　biggest　threat　to
his　success。　He　saw　his　chances　for　victory　thinning。　Already；　the　beast　had　crushed　or　kicked　apart
eight　of　the　Imperial　machines；　and　Captain　Immrich　was　leading　the　damned　thing　back　towards
the　Cadian　lines。　What　in　blazes　was　he　thinking？
“Gruber；”　he　yelled　at　his　adjutant；　“get　me　Bergen　on　the　vox；　right　now！”
Something　explosive　hit　the　side　of　his　Chimera　and　set　her　rocking　on　her　suspension。　He　heard
the　rattle　of　stubber…fire　as　it　struck　her　glacis　plate　like　a　hard　rain。
“Nothing　to　worry　about；　general；”　his　driver　shouted。　“No　breach。　No　warnings　lights　on　the
board。”
“Bergen　here；”　said　a　crackling　voice　in　deViers’　ear。　“Go　ahead。”
“What　the　devil　are　your　tankers　playing　at；　Gerard？　If　they　lead　that　monster　back　towards　us；
it’ll　run　rampage　through　our　infantry。　We’ll　be　slaughtered　wholesale。”
“Captain　Immrich　knows　what　he’s　doing；　sir；”　replied　Bergen　icily。　“Right　now；　the　beast　is　out
of　control。　They’re　baiting　it。　They’ve　got　it　charging　straight　over　the　orks。　It’s　killing　hundreds　of
them；　as　I’m　sure　you　can　see　for　yourself。”
“I’ve　seen　eight　of　our　tanks　get　crushed　by　the　bloody　thing。　Tell　me　again　that　your　damned
Captain　Immrich　knows　wh