firing straight down the Schutzenstrasse, and the Palace of Justice route is too open. Didn't think you'd chance that.”
“Is this your first brush with them?” Revell had to jog to keep up with the men of the covering group as they made their way back to the station.
“We had one drop right in on top of us, and we traded a few rounds not long ago with a group trying to use Bayerstrasse. That's all so far.” Hyde called for a slowing of the pace as they prepared to cross the last road. “I think we winged at least a couple, but their mates dragged them off, back into the centre.”
“Might have been better if they'd got through. Our task is to root out and destroy any of them between here and the river.”
“The whole of the city centre? That's the best part of a couple of hundred blocks. How are we supposed to do that with only one under strength and a lightly armed company?”
“I know it's crazy.” They'd regained the station forecourt, and Revell made a swift appraisal of such defences as had been erected. The positions his men had taken were good, but Hyde's machine gun was the only weapon heavier than a machine pistol or pump gun. “But if our mission is nuts, it's only a shade more lunatic than the enemy's tactics. They've dumped maybe a couple of companies on the city. I don't know, what their commanders told them, but effectively they're on a suicide mission.”
“Maybe they'll realize that for themselves and give up.” “I doubt it, Sergeant.” Revell had good reason to doubt such an outcome. He knew a great deal about communist indoctrination methods. They were thorough, and in the majority of cases highly successful. “Whatever line those Warpac paras have been fed, you can be sure they'll believe it. And they'll go on believing it until they're finally cornered and killed.”
“So where do we start?” Resting the machine gun on the ground, Hyde looked out at the seemingly endless roads that radiated away from the railway station. Only one displayed any light, burning vehicles in the far distance. Clearing them was more than a daunting prospect, it was terrifying. Using every last man, they amounted to no more than three-platoon strength. Such a small force would have been stretched to take a defended village, let alone a couple of square kilometres of heavily built-up city.
“We need the weapons in the main police armoury. That has to be our first target. What weapons can we muster?”
Hyde was all too well acquainted with their meagre resources. “The MG with three-and-a-half belts, fifteen machine pistols with three magazines each, and ten pump guns with a hundred cartridges between them.”
“Couldn't you get anything more out of the transport police?” Revell had been hoping there were more weapons available than those he had seen being carried by the sentries and the section that had provided covering fire.
“This is all they had; they couldn't give them away fast enough. Mostly they're old boys with no stomach for a fight. Can't say I blame them. Bit different tackling Warpac paras instead of soccer hooligans. They're shitting themselves. Oh, there was a stack of riot guns. Unlimited baton and CS rounds for those, and plenty of masks.”
“Get them, and all the gas grenades the men can carry.” It was little enough Revell knew, but with it they would have to do the job. In the Zone they had often had to raid enemy dumps for ammunition and fuel. He hadn't expected to be doing something similar during the last hours of his leave.
Hyde shouted orders, then turned back to the Major. “Did you want to see the remains of that para?”
“Yes, while we're waiting.” Revell followed the NCO to the booking hall. Spread-eagled on the floor, the dead man's outstretched limbs and the dried rivulets of blood that radiated from him gave an absurdly picturesque sun-ray effect to the gruesome scene.
“Find anything on him?” Revell began going through the jumpsuit's many pouches
“Is this your first brush with them?” Revell had to jog to keep up with the men of the covering group as they made their way back to the station.
“We had one drop right in on top of us, and we traded a few rounds not long ago with a group trying to use Bayerstrasse. That's all so far.” Hyde called for a slowing of the pace as they prepared to cross the last road. “I think we winged at least a couple, but their mates dragged them off, back into the centre.”
“Might have been better if they'd got through. Our task is to root out and destroy any of them between here and the river.”
“The whole of the city centre? That's the best part of a couple of hundred blocks. How are we supposed to do that with only one under strength and a lightly armed company?”
“I know it's crazy.” They'd regained the station forecourt, and Revell made a swift appraisal of such defences as had been erected. The positions his men had taken were good, but Hyde's machine gun was the only weapon heavier than a machine pistol or pump gun. “But if our mission is nuts, it's only a shade more lunatic than the enemy's tactics. They've dumped maybe a couple of companies on the city. I don't know, what their commanders told them, but effectively they're on a suicide mission.”
“Maybe they'll realize that for themselves and give up.” “I doubt it, Sergeant.” Revell had good reason to doubt such an outcome. He knew a great deal about communist indoctrination methods. They were thorough, and in the majority of cases highly successful. “Whatever line those Warpac paras have been fed, you can be sure they'll believe it. And they'll go on believing it until they're finally cornered and killed.”
“So where do we start?” Resting the machine gun on the ground, Hyde looked out at the seemingly endless roads that radiated away from the railway station. Only one displayed any light, burning vehicles in the far distance. Clearing them was more than a daunting prospect, it was terrifying. Using every last man, they amounted to no more than three-platoon strength. Such a small force would have been stretched to take a defended village, let alone a couple of square kilometres of heavily built-up city.
“We need the weapons in the main police armoury. That has to be our first target. What weapons can we muster?”
Hyde was all too well acquainted with their meagre resources. “The MG with three-and-a-half belts, fifteen machine pistols with three magazines each, and ten pump guns with a hundred cartridges between them.”
“Couldn't you get anything more out of the transport police?” Revell had been hoping there were more weapons available than those he had seen being carried by the sentries and the section that had provided covering fire.
“This is all they had; they couldn't give them away fast enough. Mostly they're old boys with no stomach for a fight. Can't say I blame them. Bit different tackling Warpac paras instead of soccer hooligans. They're shitting themselves. Oh, there was a stack of riot guns. Unlimited baton and CS rounds for those, and plenty of masks.”
“Get them, and all the gas grenades the men can carry.” It was little enough Revell knew, but with it they would have to do the job. In the Zone they had often had to raid enemy dumps for ammunition and fuel. He hadn't expected to be doing something similar during the last hours of his leave.
Hyde shouted orders, then turned back to the Major. “Did you want to see the remains of that para?”
“Yes, while we're waiting.” Revell followed the NCO to the booking hall. Spread-eagled on the floor, the dead man's outstretched limbs and the dried rivulets of blood that radiated from him gave an absurdly picturesque sun-ray effect to the gruesome scene.
“Find anything on him?” Revell began going through the jumpsuit's many pouches
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