Gunheads(科幻战争)-第32部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！


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　what　he’s　doing。　I　want　it　killed　right　now。　We’ve　already　knocked　out
most　of　their　vehicles。　Let’s　turn　the　infantry　battle　around　and　win　this。　What　about　their　air
support？”
“Dealt　with；　sir。　Killian　moved　his　missile　teams　forward　with　the　Tyrok　Fusiliers　and　took　them
out。　All　hostile　birds　are　down。　Is　there　anything　else；　sir？”
DeViers　didn’t　like　Bergen’s　tone。　It　was　dismissive。　Did　he　think　he　was　leading　this　offensive？
If　the　man　lived　through　today；　deViers　planned　to　give　him　one　hell　of　a　dressing　down。　He　had
been　too　easy　on　Gerard　Bergen　up　to　now；　too　eager　to　believe　they　were　on　the　same　page。
It　was　increasingly　clear　to　him　that　they　were　not。
“Just　tell　Immrich　to　kill　that　damned　monster；”　he　said；　and　shut　off　the　link。　“Gruber；　get　me
Sennesdiar。　I　have　to　speak　with　him　immediately。”
Seconds　later；　the　voice　of　the　magos　said；　“I　am　listening；　general。”
“Make　sure　you　are；”　said　deViers。　“I　want　you　to　send　that　damned　beacon　of　yours　up。　Code　in
our　coordinates。　Get　that　Mechanicus　lifter　down　here；　and　tell　your　people　to　load　her　up　with
fighters；　bombers；　tanks…　anything　they　can　send　us。　Anything　at　all。　We　can　win　this　fight　if　we
just　get　some　kind　of　edge。”
“Negative；”　Sennesdiar　replied。
DeViers　exploded。　“Negative？　What　the　hell　do　you　mean　by　that？　Do　as　I　say。”
“General；　as　I　have　already　stated；　I　am　not　part　of　the　Departmento　Munitorum　command
structure。　I　alone　have　the　authority　to　decide　when　the　beacon　will　be　released。　I　will　not　call　down
a　Mechanicus　craft　while　there　is　still　a　significant　threat　to　its　safety。　This　battle　is　not　yet　won。”
“Don’t　you　have　eyes；　you　fool？”　said　deViers。　“My　men　are　fighting　for　their　lives。　Now　send
the　damned　beacon　up　or　I’ll　have　you　shot　for　obstructing　an　Imperial　operation。”
“Eliminate　the　squiggoth　and　all　static　defences；　general；”　said　Sennesdiar　plainly。　“Purge　any
remaining　forces　from　the　settlement　up　ahead。　Find　the　warboss。　When　you　have　achieved　these
things；　the　beacon　shall　be　launched。　Not　before。”
DeViers　heard　the　tell…tale　click　of　the　vox…link　being　cut　from　the　other　end。
“Gruber；”　he　yelled；　“get　me　Gerard　Bergen　again。”
175
Four　tanks；　they　were　all　that　remained　of　Gossefried　van　Droi’s　10th　Company：　his　own　Foe…
Breaker；　Wulfe’s　Last　Rites　II；　Viess’　Steelhearted　II；　and　Lenck’s　Exterminator；　New　Champion　of
Cerbera。
Of　these；　only　Lenck’s　was　firing　on　anything　other　than　the　giant　squiggoth。　His　crate’s　twinlinked
heavy　bolters　were　outstanding　anti…infantry　weapons；　and　they　had　helped　cut　a　bloody　path
of　carnage　through　the　ork　ranks；　but　they　were　little　use　against　something　like　the　insane
behemoth　that　was　chasing　him。　Instead；　Lenck　ordered　Riesmann　to　concentrate　on　keeping　the
way　clear　with　a　torrent　of　fire。　There　was　no　way　he　was　getting　trampled　to　death　like　those　other
idiots。
Damn　that　stupid　Immrich　for　ordering　them　back　into　the　middle　of　the　horde。　Not　only　was　it
slowing　them　down；　putting　them　in　reach　of　the　squiggoth’s　tusks　and　feet；　but　six　tanks　from　the
2nd；　4th　and　7th　Companies　had　been　slapped　with　magnetic　mines　that　blew　them　to　tiny；　spinning
pieces。　Other　tanks　were　struggling　through　the　press　of　bodies　with　dozens　of　orks　on　top　of　them；
all　yanking　hard　at　the　hatches　and　hammering　at　the　vision　blocks　with　the　butts　of　their　blades。　All
the　weight　of　those　hangers…on　slowed　the　tanks　to　a　crawl。　As　Lenck　watched；　the　squiggoth
thundered　forward；　crushing　one　and　knocking　two　others　onto　their　backs。　Broken　ork　bodies　flew
in　every　direction。　In　the　wake　of　the　beast’s　rampage；　however；　more　orks　immediately　moved　in
on　the　upturned　machines。　They　began　trying　to　cut　their　way　through　belly　armour　with　chainaxes
and　blowtorches；　desperate　to　get　at　the　helpless　men　inside。
Lenck　grimaced。　It　wasn’t　that　he　cared　for　his　fellow　tankers　per　se；　but　he　imagined　that　it
might　not　be　long　until　New　Champion　was　on　her　back　like　that。　He　definitely　wasn’t　ready　to　die。
Most　of　the　dolts　around　him　thought　it　was　an　honour　to　die　for　a　so…called　God…Emperor　they　had
never　even　seen；　or　to　die　for　a　planet　that　had　sacrificed　them　to　a　life　of　war　in　that　same。
Emperor’s　name。　Not　Lenck。　He　still　had　scores　to　settle。　He　enjoyed　being　Voeder　Lenck　far　too
much　to　give　it　up　on　some　foolish　notion　of　honour　and　duty。
It　wasn’t　his　destiny　to　die　here。　He　knew　he　would　make　it　through。
Part　of　him　hoped　Wulfe　would　make　it；　too。
Wulfe　watched　two　massive；　ugly；　scar…faced　orks　climb　up　onto　the　outside　of　his　turret　and　start
hacking　at　it　with　their　axes。　Futile；　of　course；　but　he　knew　how　lucky　he　was　that　neither　of　them
appeared　to　be　carrying　explosives　or　a　burner。　All　he　could　do　was　tell　Metzger　to　keep　the　old　girl
moving　and　pray　they　wouldn’t　get　tagged　with　something　nasty。
Beans　was　firing　back　at　the　squiggoth；　but　it　was　hard　to　aim　with　all　the　jouncing　around。　With
armour…piercing　rounds；　he　had　managed　to　wound　the　beast　twice；　hitting　it　both　times　in　the　thick
muscles　of　its　front　right　leg。
Now　a　third　sound　punched　through　its　skin　and　buried　deep；　causing　the　creature　to　scream　and
rear　up　on　its　hind　legs；　towering　like　a　Titan　over　the　battlefield。　Even　the　orks　turned　and　gaped。
It　was　at　that　very　moment；　with　the　monster’s　belly　exposed　to　the　tanks　below；　that　a　long
yellow　muzzle　flame　erupted　from　the　end　of　Foe…Breaker’s　Vanquisher　cannon。　The　special　highvelocity
armour…piercing　shell　lanced　straight　into　the　monster’s　heart。
With　a　scream　that　hurt　Wulfe’s　ears　even　through　his　baffles；　the　squiggoth　collapsed　sideways；
tumbling　heavily　to　the　ground；　crushing　hundreds　of　orks　and　throwing　out　a　great　ring…shaped
cloud　of　dust。　The　impact　shook　the　entire　crater；　knocking　foot　soldiers　on　both　sides　from　their
feet。
Wulfe’s　tank　was　filled　with　cheering　and　whooping。　The　vox　erupted　with　similar　noises。
“Hell　of　a　shot；　sir！”　Wulfe　voxed。　“Give　old　Bullseye　a　slap　on　the　back　from　me。”
The　squiggoth　was　not　dead　yet。　Few　things　smaller　than　a　Titan　could　have　killed　such　a　beast
outright；　certainly　not　a　Vanquisher　tank。　As　the　dust　cleared；　Wulfe　could　see　the　slow　rise　and　fall
176
of　its　belly。　It　was　still　breathing；　but　it　was　desperately　weakened　and　pinned　to　the　ground　by　the
weight　of　the　massive　howdah　on　its　back。
It　wouldn’t　be　getting　back　to　its　feet。　Ever。　Its　death　would　be　long　and　slow。
It　was　too　much　for　the　orks。
Bad　enough　that　the　squiggoth　had　rampaged　through　their　ranks；　leaving　so　many　of　them　as
little　more　than　red　smears　on　the　battlefield；　now；　they　saw　the　Cadian　tanks　put　it　out　of　the　fight；
and　their　morale　shattered　like　glass。　Those　at　the　rear　broke　ranks　first；　fleeing　back　towards　the
settlement；　dropping　heavy　guns　and　blades　on　the　blood…soaked　sand。
The　Cadian　officers　recognised　this　for　exactly　what　it　was：　the　shift　that　signalled　victory。　They
rallied　their　troops；　pressed　their　advantage；　and　surged　forward。　Those　orks　that　did　not　flee
suddenly　found　themselves　facing　a　resurgent　foe。　Without　the　overwhelming　numbers　at　their　back；
they　were　lost。　Their　charred　bodies　fell　to　the　sand；　and　the　Cadians　charged　over　them。
General　deViers　felt　that　the　Emperor　must　surely　be　watching　him　at　that　moment。　His　destiny
had　not　abandoned　him。　His　legacy；　his　immortality；　was　within　reach。
“Forward；　Cadians；”　he　voxed；　“in　the　name　of　the　Emperor。　This　day　is　ours！”
177
CHAPTER　THIRTY…TWO
The　Cadian　artillery　moved　up　to　join　the　rest　of　the　expedition　force；　and　began　pounding　the　ork
settlement　to　rusting　rubble。　This　was　something　for　which　the　orks　no　longer　had　an　answer。
Thousands　died　taking　shelter　in　their　pathetic　corrugated　huts　and　barracks。　Thousands　more　were
crushed　and　killed　when　the　Basilisks　turned　their　muzzles　towards　the　ork　foundries　and　levelled
them。　It　was　only　when　General　deViers　received　an　emergency　vox…call　from　Magos　Sennesdiar
that　the　shelling　abruptly　stopped。
“What　the　devil　are　you　doing；　sir？”　asked　Major　General　Rennkamp　on　the　vox。　“We’ve　got
them　right　where　we　want　them。　Keep　shelling。”
“Damn　it；　no！”　snapped　deViers。　“I　want　our　tanks　and　Chimeras　to　move　in。　Each　vehicle　is　to
have　infantry　support。　I　want　them　to　sweep　each　street；　each　building；　and　converge　on　the　far　side。
That’s　how　we’re　going　to　do　this。”
“With　respect；　sir；”　voxed　Major　General　Killian；　“that’s　bloody　nonsense。　The　orks　will　have
retreated　to　their　fallback　positions。　They’ll　be　dug…in。　You’re　sending　our　boys　straight　into　a　death
trap。　I　agree　with　Aaron。　We　have　to　pound　them　to　nothing　with　the　Basilisks　and　then　send　the
infantry　in　to　mop　up。　Anything　else　is　just—”
“Enough！”　snapped　deViers。　“I’ve　already　executed　one　officer　today。　Will　I　have　to　repeat　that
action？　I　will　not　risk　destroying　The　Fortress　of　Arrogance。　We　go　in　with　tanks　and　troops。　We’ve
already　beaten　them；　by　Throne。　They　won’t　put　up　much　more　of　a　fight。　I　want　our　tanks　up　front；
is　that　clear？　Bergen？”
“Clear；　sir；”　voxed　Bergen。　There　was　no　mistaking　the　tone　of　exhausted　resignation　in　his
voice。　His　armour　had　just　won　a　great　victory。　The　Basilisks　could　have　made　it　complete。
However；　if　the　damned　tech…priests　weren’t　lying　for　once；　the　most　famous　and　sacred　Baneblade
battle　tank　in　the　entire　Imperium　was　somewhere　up　ahead。　It　might　be　buried　under　a　frak…load　of
rusting　junk；　but　the　general　clearly　believed　it　was　there；　and　not　one　man　present　would　be　leaving
Golgotha　until　it　was　retrieved。
From　a　pre…expedition　total　of　over　one　hundred；　only　twenty…six　tanks　remained　in　the　ranks　of　the
81st　Armoured　Regiment。　They　moved　slowly　and　deliberately　through　the　twisting；　junk…filled
streets　of　the　ork　camp；　halting　frequently　to　blast　apart　ramshackle　towers　and　barracks　buildings
from　which　ork　rockets　and　stubber…fire　stabbed　out。　Vox…chatter　was　terse；　betraying　the　Cadians’
anxiety。　No　one　liked　moving　through　the　narrow　lanes。　The　shaky　metal　buildings　on　either　side
looked　ready　to　topple　at　any　second。　Their　construction　was　almost　laughable。　Beams　and　girders
stuck　out　at　every　angle。　Most　of　the　corrugated　metal　walls　looked　set　to　tear　away　on　the　next
wind。　It　was　a　wonder　any　of　them　stood　at　all。
Again　and　again；　the　Cadians　found　themselves　boxed　in。　Huge　armoured　orks；　some　of　them
almost　three　metres　tall；　poured　out　from　shadowed　corners　in　a　frenzy；　screaming　oaths　in　their　foul
xenos　tongue；　bloodstained　blades　and　hammers　held　high　above　their　heads。　The　tallest　were　so
dark…skinned　they　were　almost　black；　and　they　fought　with　ferocity　of　a　different　magnitude
altogether。　It　took　twice　as　much　fire　to　put　them　down　as　it　did　to　slay　the　other　members　of　the
squads　they　led。
If　not　for　the　tanks　and　their　crews　providing　hard　cover　and　fire　support　to　the　footsloggers；　any
progress　at　all　through　the　settlement　would　have　been　impossible。　There　were　too　many　damned
178
bottlenecks。　The　Cadian　armour　made　all　the　difference；　but　it　wasn’t　long　before　van　Droi　started
hearing　voxed　reports　of　tanks　being　lost。
The　fourth　such　loss　was　Steelhearted　II。
Captain　Immrich　had　assigned　Viess　and　his　crate　as　armour　support　to　a　company　of　Colonel
Pruscht’s　116th　Lasgunners。　They　were　purging　an　avenue　half　a　kilometre　north　of　van　Droi’s
position　when　rockets　had　shredded　the　tank’s　left　tread；　rooting　her　to　the　spot。　The　infantry　had
immediately　moved　forward　to　return　fire；　only　to　be　cut　down　by　ork　heavy　weapon　teams　perched
on　the　nearby　roofs。　Then　the　ork　foot　soldiers　had　poured　in；　dragging　Viess　and　his　crew　out　of
their　hatches　and　hacking　them　to　pieces　on　the　street。
A　few　of　the　lasgunners　had　managed　to　break　away　from　the　fighting　and　report　what　had
happened。　The　commissars　would　probably　execute　them　later　on　charges　of　cowardice。
The　Gunheads　were　down　to　three　tanks。　Van　Droi　could　hardly　believe　it。　Soul…sapping　misery
hovered　over　him；　threatening　to　descend　and　engulf　him　at　any　second；　but　he　fought　hard　to　keep
it　at　bay。　Other　men　were　depending　on　him；　now；　a　platoon　of　Colonel　Stromm’s　Kasrkin　troopers。
They　followed　just　behind　his　crate；　hellgun　stocks　raised　to　their　armoured　shoulders。
He　couldn’t　afford　to　lose　focus。
Van　Droi　looked　out　from　his　cupola；　fists　tight　around　the　grips　of　his　pintle…mounted　heavy
bolter。　His　Vanquisher　had　already　been　stung　twice　—　once　on　the　glacis　and　once　on　the　mantlet
—　by　rockets　fired　from　blind　corners。　She　had　soaked　up　both　hits；　but　how　much　more　could　she
take？　Her　hide　was　scarred　silver　by　all　the　stubber…fire　she　had　drawn；　and　stained　black　where　the
rockets　had　struck。
Thinking　that　his　remaining　Gunheads　deserved　to　know　of　the　company’s　latest　loss；　he　hit　the
vox…link　button　on　his　headset　and　said；　“This　is　10th　Company　Command。　Listen　up；　Gunheads。
I’ve　just　heard　from　Colonel　Pruscht　that　Steelhearted　II　is　dead。　Viess　and　his　crew　are　gone。　So；
keep　your　damned　eyes　open；　both　of　you。　If　Yarrick’s　tank　is　here；　this　will　all　be　over　soon。　You
have　to　keep　it　tight　until　then。”
Two　brief　acknowledgements　came　back　to　him。　One　from　Wulfe；　one　from　Lenck。　Van　Droi
knew　they　utterly　detested　each　other。　They　were　just　about　as　different　as　two　men　could　be；　but
they　were　both　survivors。　They　had　that　much　in　common。
What　was　it　about　the　character　of　each　man；　he　wondered；　that　had　got　him　this　far　when　so
many　others　had　fallen　along　the　way？　Was　it　Lenck’s　self…serving　ruthlessness？　Wulfe’s　rigid
honour　code？　Or　his　almost　paternal　concern　for　the　lives　of　his　crew？
If　they　both　survived　this；　maybe　van　Droi　could　find　a　way　to　bridge　the　gap　between　them。
Troopers　who　disliked　each　other　at　first　were　often　bonded　by　the　trials　they　shared。　He　had　seen　it
before。
Then　again；　he　thought；　maybe　not。
Up　ahead；　he　noticed　that　the　avenue　was　quickly　widening。　The　ork　structures　were　bigger　and
more　widely　spaced　apart。　From　some　of　the　roofs；　great　crooked　armatures　reached　up　towards　the
sky。　They　looked　like　construction　cranes。　Their　heavy　steel　cables　swung　in　the　wind。
“Take　it　slow；　Nails；”　van　Droi　told　his　driver　over　the　intercom。　“It　looks　like　we’re
approaching　the　eastern　edge　of　the　settlement。　I　can’t　believe　we’ve　seen　everything　the　orks　have
left。”
Nails　shifted　down　a　gear；　prompting　a　question　from　the　Kasrkin　lieutenant　at　the　rear。
“Trouble　up　ahead？”　he　voxed。
“Can’t　be　sure；”　replied　van　Droi。　“Come　up　and　take　a　look。”
The　Kasrkin　officer；　a　rough…spoken　man　by　the　name　of　Gradz；　clambered　up　the　back　of　Foe…
Breaker　and　stopped　close　to　van　Droi。　Despite　their　proximity；　they　spoke　over　the　vox。　The　noise
of　the　engine　was　too　loud　for　anything　else。
“What　do　you　think？”　asked　van　Droi。
179
The　Kasrkin　took　a　moment　to　answer。　“I　think　we’ve　just　found　our　warboss；　armour。　That
hangar　dead　ahead　is　the　biggest　structure　I’ve　seen　so　far。　Twice　the　size　of　those　ones　to　the　side。
I’ll　bet　you　ten　bottles　of　joi　the　bastard　is　in　there　right　now。　The　minute　our　lads　move　into　that
open　square；　the　orks’ll　launch　their　last　stand。　The　warboss　will　lead　it。”
Van　Droi　nodded　in　silent　agreement。
“Well？”　asked　Gradz。　“You　gonna　take　the　bet？”
Something　large　moved　in　the　shadowed　mouth　of　the　hangar。　The　muzzle　brake　of　a　massive
battle　cannon　poked　out　into　the　daylight。　Van　Droi　and　Gradz　both　saw　it　at　the　same　time；　but　it
was　too　late　to　do　anything。　The　gun　belched　fire　and　smoke。　There　was　a　clap　of　thunder。
They　didn’t　see　the　shell　that　killed　them。　It　happened　too　fast　for　that。
Foe…Breaker　was　flipped　onto　her　back　by　the　power　of　the　explosion；　crushing　eight　of　the　men
behind　her。
Then　her　magazine　ignited；　and　her　armour　blew　outwards　as　a　million　spinning　shrapnel　shards。
No　one　within　ten　metres　of　her　survived。
180
CHAPTER　THIRTY…THREE
Orks　were　spewing　out　from　buildings　on　all　sides。
“We　need　to　fall　back　right　now；”　Lieutenant　Keissler　voxed　to　Captain　Immrich。　“Draw　them
back　into　the　narrower　streets。”
“No；”　snapped　Immrich。　“I　will　not　disobey　the　general’s　orders。　We　are　to　stand　firm　and
engage。　There　will　be　no　retreat。　This　is　their　last　stand；　and　it　is　ours　as　well。”
“You’re　a　bloody　fool；　Immrich；”　hissed　Keissler。　“I　always　thought　so。　Death　or　glory；　is　it？”
“What　else　is　there？”　Immrich　replied　and　took　aim。
General　deViers　could　barely　hear　himself　think　over　all　the　noise　on　the　vox。
Killian　was　yelling　for　permission　to　pull　his　men　out　of　the　ork　settlement。　Rennkamp　was
calling　on　him　to　send　everything　they　had　in　to　support　the　Cadian　tanks；　and　Bergen　was　raving
about　some　monstrous　ork　battle　tank　five　times　the　size　of　a　Leman　Russ　that　was　ripping　the
forward　elements　of　his　armoured　division　apart。
In　the　general’s　mind；　there　was　only　one　pertinent　fact。　His　prize　was　in　there　somewhere。　The
path　was　clear。
“Army　Group　Command　to　all　units。　This　is　General　Mohamar　deViers。　In　the　name　of　the
Emperor；　I　order　you　to　move　in。　Converge　on　the　east　side　of　the　settlement。　Give　your　lives　if
necessary；　but　sell　them　dear。　Our　victory　must　be　absolute。　The　Fortress　of　Arrogance　is　within
reach。　For　Cadia　and　for　the　glory　of　all　mankind；　we　will　recover　her　this　day。　Fight　hard；　brave
Cadians。　The　Emperor　protects！”
The　Emperor　wasn’t　doing　a　very　good　job　of　protecting　the　men　of　the　88th　Mobile　Infantry。
Wulfe　had　been　attached　to　one　of　their　platoons　for　the　sweep　eastwards；　but　the　men　were
dropping　like　flies；　hemmed　in　on　all　sides　by　savage　aliens　of　simply　breathtaking　bulk　and　power。
Lasgun　blasts　hardly　seemed　to　affect　the　orks　at　all。
Wulfe’s　stubber…fire　was　only　marginally　more　effective。　He　did　his　best　to　keep　the　orks　off　the
men　around　him；　gunning　them　down　mercilessly　with　enfilading　fire　from　his　cupola；　but　there
were　simply　too　many。　They　weren’t　the　worst　of　it；　either；　not　by　far。
Between　them；　the　Cadian　armour　and　infantry　would　have　found　a　way　to　overcome　the
unmounted　troops。　It　would　have　needed　time；　coordination；　and　a　healthy　serving　of　old…fashioned
Cadian　courage；　but