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

blocked by closing hatches. “All tanks secured!” Moments later, the shuttles blasted upward in
a ragged volley, chased by futile shots from the ground. Lamont’s abandoned tank ripped off a
blistering barrage, staggering as a couple of antitank rounds impacted in the empty crew
compartment, then blew apart in a series of blasts that sent shrapnel flying across the landing
field and high overhead. Stark, trying not to think about how important every piece of armor
was to his forces, watched the projected paths of some of the debris as it flew upward, then
snorted a brief, tense laugh. “Looks like Lamont put one of his tanks into low lunar orbit.”

“A few pieces of it, anyway.” Vic checked the time on her display. “They set the charges for
minimum delay to make sure those enemy troops wouldn’t be able to deactivate them. Any
second now and we should see a lot more stuff heading for orbit.”

“Those shuttles are still too damn close. Wish we coulda command-detonated the charges.”

“That kind of signal is too easy to jam,” Reynolds reminded him. “And fiber-optic cable
doesn’t unreel well from a shuttle heading off at max acceleration. Hold on.”

She’d barely finished speaking when the charges left by Milheim’s troops began
detonating. Watching the view from a backward-looking camera on one of the fleeing shuttles,
Stark saw a section of lunar terrain lift skyward as the huge ammunition stockpile went off in a
rapid series of blasts that quickly merged into one massive explosion. Luminosity and infrared
scales backed down in swift shifts to avoid being overwhelmed by the glare. “Holy cow,” Vic
breathed. “How much ammo did they have in that pile?”

“I dunno, but I’m sure glad I’m not on that landing field. I guess we could’ve saved the
other charges. There ain’t gonna be nothing left of that field but one mother of a crater.”

“Maybe they ought to name that crater after you.”

“Thanks. Are the shuttles clear of the blast effects and debris?”
 “It’s going to be close,” Sergeant Tran reported. “There’s too much junk flying to track
every piece.”

“The shuttles are still boosting out at max acceleration,” the private who had reported
earlier announced. “But they’re heading into threat envelopes from enemy antiorbital systems.”

“I’ve got enemy and American warships converging toward the shuttles’ projected orbital
track,” another watchstander reported.

Stark took a second to rub his forehead, trying to fight down the sick feeling in his gut.
Now comes the hard part. Getting away . “Where’s Wiseman and her armed shuttles?”

“Moving to intercept the warships.”

“Is she nuts?”

“No,” Vic advised. “She’s pushing the other deception, Ethan. Making the warships and
the enemy think those shuttles are going to follow a suborbital path back here.”

“Sure. Right. So when do our shuttles change—” Stark bit off the sentence as acceleration