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

“Don’t need it, pal. Our cargo can move on its own. Beginning off-load now.” Moments
later, cargo bays gaped open on the shuttles and began disgorging armored figures.

“What’s going on? Who are those people?”

“Our cargo, buddy! Like I told you.”

“We have no… are those soldiers? Are you off-loading soldiers?”

“Yeah. That’s our cargo. Deliver here. That’s what my flight plan says.” As the pilot and
landing field controller debated, the soldiers swiftly formed into parade ranks and started
marching across the field, their formations appearing almost tiny against the dead, gray
expanse of the landing field. Almost unnoticed behind them, the shuttles began disgorging
four huge black shapes.

“I don’t have any delivery notification for soldiers! Get them back on those shuttles!”

“Uh-uh. No way. I almost got killed delivering them, and you want me to take them back?
Look, my orders say to drop these military goons off for, uh, security duties here. You got
something special worth guarding?”

“We have a considerable quantity of supplies the Americans are staging here for their
offensive against their rebellious colony. But no one notified us they were sending… what is
that?” The first of the black shapes swung majestically out from beneath the shuttle that had
delivered it. Nonreflective surfaces only hinted at the massive armored shape as it surged
forward across the field in the wake of the soldiers. “Is that a tank?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s what the delivery order says.”

Send some of my armor along, Sergeant Lamont had urged.

That’s crazy, Sergeant Reynolds had rebutted him. You don’t send heavy armor on raids.

Yeah. Everybody knows that. So nobody’ll expect it, right? How much anti-armor weaponry is
on ready-alert in a rear area ? Most likely none. And if you’re dropping big cargo shuttles on the
field, they can each carry one of my hogs in their heavy lift slings. Total surprise. Bet ya I can raise a
lot of hell before anybody can react.

It might work, Stark had admitted. But you’re still crazy.

Nah. I’m a tanker.

“Stop them! Stop the tanks and the soldiers. Everybody cease movement. I need to clear
this.”

“Hey.” Sergeant Lamont, in the lead tank, joined the conversation. “I can’t leave my gear
just sitting out in the open.” Stark, tracking the vehicle’s progress through the command and
control link, shifted his perspective to view the world through the tank commander’s display,
watching as the armored vehicle’s sensors automatically located and tagged defenses and