"John G. Hemry - Stark's War 3 - Stark's Crusade" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hemry John G)

approach?”

Stark stared at the display, his face growing grim. “Yeah. Behind the screening terrain.
Lamont’s tanks and that company of infantry are still there. Could they handle anything that
comes for a few minutes?”

“Hell, Ethan, you know as well as I do that it’d depend on what comes! If a bunch of armor
and mech infantry comes over that ridge behind an artillery barrage…”

“Okay. You’re right.” Stark blinked, then took another look at his display, deliberately
pulling back the scale so he could see beyond the landing field. I’m getting too caught up in this.
Lots of fun, breaking stuff and watching the enemy run. “Thanks, Vic. Milheim, Lamont, it’s
getting hot out there.”

“Roger,” Milheim agreed. “I don’t like what’s going down by those warehouses. We’ve
achieved most of our objectives. I suggest we get the hell out of Dodge.”

“There’s still time to hit the remaining objectives,” Lamont argued. “We can handle things
for a few more minutes.”

Stark hesitated, weighing what he saw, what he felt, with what his commanders on the
scene were saying. My guts tell me what the right answer is. Maybe I’m just over-cautious, but…
“No. The remaining objectives aren’t worth the risk. Get your people back to the shuttles. It’s
time to leave.”

“My tanks can finish the job then bring up the rear…” Lamont began.
 “Negative. Begin withdrawal now. Expedite.” Stark started to call out more detailed
instructions, then caught himself. I told ‘em what to do. Now, just watch. Tell ‘em if there’s a
problem .

“Yessir, yessir, three bags full.”

The scattered blue symbols paused in their motion as commands flew to every soldier and
vehicle, then began rapidly falling back toward the shuttles. They left behind myriad symbols
blinking with threat warnings, explosive charges planted on almost every piece of equipment
around the landing field. As the Americans retreated, the fire from the warehouse area grew in
intensity, lashing at soldiers trying to hasten back to their shuttles. Heavy shells began falling
around them as well, as the enemy finally shifted batteries normally aimed beyond the front to
target the field to their rear. “Milheim,” Vic commanded. “Put some fire down on those
warehouses. Make those shooters keep their heads down. Lamont, can your tanks take out any
of that incoming artillery?”

“If the firing angle’s right,” Lamont responded. “But I’m starting to run low on ammo.”

Stark brought up the ammunition status of the tanks, grimacing as he noted how much the
armor had already fired off. He briefly wondered about the chances of scrounging more ammo
from the massive stockpile to one side of the landing field, and just as quickly discarded the
idea. The way it always works is the stuff we wanted would be on the bottom of the pile. And I don’t
want my people messing around that mountain of explosives while the enemy drops shells on them.
“Understand. But if you apes don’t leave now, all the ammo in the world won’t do you any