Operation Orion - Kevin Dockery [64]
For long, dragging seconds they waited. LaRue kept his eyes on the hatch while Falco scanned the crater, even checking over his shoulder to see if anything was moving in reaction to the violent assault. Conscious of the LT’s order to fire a second round after a minute, G-Man prepped the next slug simply by cocking the trigger and steadied his aim for the next shot.
It was Falco who spotted the movement. “Heads up, G-Man,” he snapped. “Ten o’clock.”
Some five hundred meters away, an object was rising from the snow, a pillar of dark metal that had been concealed in the ground. Narrow slits were visible in the sides, and one of those slits sparked and flamed as a barrage of high-velocity rounds spit toward the crest where the two SEALS were concealed. Both men ducked instinctively, watching as the burst chewed through the snow along the stony ridge. “Whattya know?” G-Man said. “It’s a fucking robot gun.”
“I think that one’s got your name on it,” Falco said laconically as the burst continued to sweep back and forth. The bullets came at them in a dense stream, the gun firing faster than a G15 on full automatic. It seemed to be concentrating on the ridge at their exact position, though occasionally the bursts swept to the right and left. High-speed rounds whizzed past, cutting through the air and the snow like a crazed buzz saw.
LaRue rolled over and over until he was about eight meters to the side of his original firing position. Falco, meanwhile, pushed his gun barrel through the snow, stirring up the powdery stuff, sending up a plume that could be seen by an observer on the other side. Immediately the barrage focused on the diversion, giving G-Man the chance he needed to swing Baby over the crest, take aim at the turret, and fire another round. The slug tore through the metal of what seemed to be an automated turret, and immediately the gun fell silent.
Falco popped up again just in time to see the hatch explode outward, toppling heavily into the snow. “Did you do that?” he asked his partner in surprise.
“Negative. Take a look.”
The two SEALS saw a tanklike vehicle riding on a pair of wide tracks burst from the now opened hatchway and churn through the snow toward their position. Apparently the enemy had released an explosive charge to move the punctured barrier quickly out of the way. A machine gun chattered from a turret on the armored vehicle, but the first rounds sailed high as the firing platform pitched and lurched through the soft powder. Immediately beyond the tank came what looked like a full platoon of infantry, soldiers dressed in parkas and large webbed footgear. Even a cursory glance was enough to confirm that the hostiles were manlike, very different from the large lumbering yeti.
LaRue was lining up another shot for the rail gun. Falco concentrated on the soldiers, who were virtually sitting ducks in the scope of his sniper rifle at that range. He squeezed off one round and watched the leading man fall backward; a second shot produced the same result. By the time he dropped the third infantryman, the enemy troops had perceived their peril and dropped prone into the snow. They snapped off a barrage of rounds from their guns, which fired like assault rifles. Rounds impacted at and below the crest or whistled over the heads of the two SEALS.
Falco ducked for cover as LaRue, unrattled, fired his third round. He gaped in disbelief for a moment, then ducked down and called to his partner. “I hit the goddamned tank in the windshield, but the round went right through! It’s still coming!”
“Aim for the engine block,” Falco suggested, popping up to snap off another couple of rounds from his Hammer. With the enemy troops prone in the snow, he couldn’t tell if he was hitting them, but he wanted to make sure they kept their heads down.
G-Man pushed forward and took aim again. This time the round