The Tank

The Tank, Chapter 15

Caney and Lacey emerged from the cell blocks into the administrative section of the prison. Cagney didn’t go around the buildings; she took a shortcut right through them. As she raced through the dark corridors she found her second wind and kicked her stride into a higher gear. She hit a stairwell and took the risers two at a time. When she reached the top she slammed through the door’s crowd bar and burst out onto the roof, where she interrupted one of Axel’s RPG teams re-loading their weapon. They looked up to see Cagney and the German Shepherd bearing down on them, so they dropped their RPG and fumbled for their kalishnikovs.

            They were too late. Cagney drew her sidearm like a cowboy and killed the first gunman. Lacey knocked into the second, flipping the man off the roof to a grisly impact three stories below.

            Cagney didn’t even break her stride. She reached the end of the roof and leapt. The neighboring rooftop was over ten feet away. But it was also only two, instead of three, stories high. So Cagney managed to clear the gap as she descended, tucking and rolling as she hit the rooftop. She immediately sprung back to her feet, Lacey landing and running at her side, and Cagney could begin to see the dark outline of Lt. Lin’s command tank trying to sneak up on Bullet Magnet.

 “Any contact?” Lt. Lin asked.

            “Negative,” his gunner replied, “no heat signature.”

            “With the engine knocked out it’ll be running cold, so look for the heat signatures of the impacting RPG’s.”

            “Affirmitive! I have have contact!”

The Type-99’s turret began to rotate in the direction of the crippled Abrams, which, being on the other side of a building, was oblivious to the new danger, Cordite and Maverik were still firing like mad. They’d already lost count of how many of Axel’s gunmen they’d killed, but only a few RPG teams remained, and most of them were pinned down and too scared to fire. So Cordite finally took his finger off the trigger and let the barrel of machinegun start to cool. “How much longer?” he called out to Ratchet.

            “Almost there,” she replied, crawling out from under the tank and getting back to the job of repairing the engine.

            “Can you give me an ETA?”
            “All right,” Ratchet said, instead, “try to turn her over!”

            Maverik lifted himself up out of the turret and squirmed back through the Driver’s hatch in the front hull. He pulled the ignition lever and the engine roared to life.

            Cordite and Ratchet both hollered in joy.

            But an instant later the engine died.

            “God damnit!” Ratchet yelled as she kicked the engine deck.

            “Keep trying,” Cordite encouraged, still oblivious of Lt. Lin’s Type-99.

            The enemy tank was slowly approaching the entrance of the alley where Bullet Magnet had been disabled. “Approaching target…” announced Lt. Lin, “request auto-loader status.”

            “Fully operational,” the gunner assured.

            “Attack!” commanded the Chinese Lieutenant.

            The driver gunned the engine and the Type-99 rocketed forward. It drove right past the alleyway, presenting its broadside to the Abrams only for an instant. But that was long enough for the Chinese gunner to get off a quick snapshot. The shell slammed into Bullet Magnet’s turret, scorching and gouging the armor in a long scar before ripping off the Missile Countermeasure Device right in front of the loader’s hatch. If Maverik had still been manning the machine gun, his head would have been ripped right off with it. “Contact! Contact!” Cordite screamed in alarm.