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Sgt. Golem: Royal Mech Hussar - Books 2 & 3
Bk 2 Ch 22 - High Caliber Fun

Bk 2 Ch 22 - High Caliber Fun

I turned back to Lieutentant Orlov, who was still preoccupied looking at the strange structure to the south.

“Look,” I said. “We have to destroy the gun emplacement to the north as well. I know it wasn’t in the orders, but on the General's battle plan, there was nothing there. He didn’t know about that one. We can’t leave it this close to the path of the airships."

Orlov shrugged. "My orders are to destroy this one, not wage war against the whole valley myself. Wraith troopers are good at stealth and surprise. As soon as we blow this bunker, we lose both."

"Following orders is all well and good," I said, "but not when it means dooming the entire mission."

The man shook his head. "We can't deviate from our orders. We will get in trouble."

I leaned forward. "You'll get in trouble with me if you don't. I'll make a deal with you. We'll do things my way, and if anything goes wrong, you can insist it was my fault."

The man seemed to consider this. "Maybe. Tell me your plan.”

My idea was relatively simple. The Wraith teams would split into two groups and guard the doors to the anti-aircraft gun chambers while I cleared the watchtower. The golems might be alerted. If they came out of the gun emplacements to help, the Wraith forces would ambush them. If they didn't come out, I would go in after them. Since the plan involved very little risk to his own team, Orlov agreed.

About time I got some action in. They hadn't brought a massive seven-foot slab of muscle for my good looks. I hefted my shotgun and entered the bunker.

The stairs up the watch tower were a spiral of metal. Each step rang under my feet as I stomped up them with an unhurried pace. They coincidentally sounded like the footsteps of every other golem. Thud, thud, thud.

There was no stealth to my approach, but nothing suspicious about it either. The spiral staircase emerged in the middle of the observation room, right through a hole in the floor.

I poked my head into the chamber and opened fire.

There were three golems in the room. The first one died before he knew what was happening. The second one turned away from the observation slit in time to catch a faceful of lead.

The third one was armed only with binoculars. He lunged at me in a desperate but futile effort. The metal stair rail blocked the opening on that side. He leaned past it, one grasping hand reaching for my throat as the other reached for my weapon.

He was too late. My third shot cracked his head open like a melon. The resulting mess should have horrified me, but something about this new body left my emotions muted. That bothered me, but only in a distant way.

I wiped my face, glanced around the room one last time, and then retraced my steps down the stairs. The spiral staircase continued down below the door to the roof, deeper into the bunker.

When I got to the bottom, the Russians had already been there. The body of a golem lay sprawled near the foot of the steps. I moved forward carefully, not half as worried about encountering a golem as I was afraid of being mistaken for one of Frankenstein's and shot by my so-called allies.

Painted signs on the walls directed me to cannon pit number one. When I got there, the door was open. Two Wraith soldiers stood by looking nervous. Sprawled across the opening was a dead golem, with another dead inside the gun pit.

I acknowledged the Wraith soldiers and stepped into the pit. I wanted to get the layout of it before I checked the other one in case I needed to assault it. The gun itself was a long-barreled cannon. It was set up on a mount that would raise it up and out of the surrounding concrete walls. With the gun lowered, it would be an effective anti-aircraft weapon. With the gun raised up, it could be used to fire on anyone assaulting the valley from the outside. A considerable threat, firming my conviction we had to assault the other emplacement.

The pit itself was circular, with racks of heavy shells around the perimeter. One accurate aerial bomb would wipe it out in an instant, but this was an era before pinpoint bombing was a thing.

I left the two Wraith soldiers there and went looking for the other cannon installation. The pit was, of course, on the opposite side of the bunker. I passed two more Wraith soldiers on my way there the bunker's galley.

The other gun pit's heavy metal door was still closed. Either it was empty, or the golems inside hadn't heard the commotion. Or they had heard and were setting an ambush for us.

I retreated to the stairs up to the roof. It was getting light enough to be visible from the other installations. Fortunately, from this distance I would look like just another golem. I walked across the roof with unhurried steps, keeping my shotgun down along my side. Hopefully, from a distance, it wouldn't be noticed.

The roof of the bunker went right up to the edge of the gun pit. I strolled up casually and then dropped inside. Sure enough, the two golems had shown remarkable initiative and had taken up position on either side of the heavy metal hatch. One had a revolver, the other a large wrench. I shot the one with the revolver first. Wrench Golem made it two strides toward me before I dropped him.

Before I opened the door of the gun pit, I knocked on it three times, waited a moment, and then twice more, the signal I had prearranged with the Russians. Even so, I yelled through the hatch before opening it, announcing myself in Russian. No sense taking risks, not when I looked exactly like the guys we’d just been slaughtering.

After that, I went to find Orlov. He was at the top of the observation tower, looking out with the golem's blood-stained binoculars.

"We did as you suggested.” There was only a slight hesitation before he added, "Sergeant. I sent both our satchel charges to the south emplacement to demolish it.”

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I swore. "Damn it! I thought I made it clear we needed to wait. The emplacement to the north will know we are here." I broke off. Arguing with him was pointless. There was no time to lose. I pounded down the stairs and made my way toward the northern gun emplacement.

When I got to the northern gun pit, the two Wraith troopers were still standing around, unsure of what to do. These Russian soldiers showed little initiative. I yelled at them to follow me before dashing over to the gun. I observed its field of fire. There would be no way to get shots on the fortress to the north without elevating the platform. I would have to raise up the platform for the gun to have a shot.

I started to yell at the Russians to look for the controls, but they only gave me confused stares, so I did it myself. It didn't take me long to find them, but every moment seemed like an eternity as we raced against the clock.

I found a likely-looking lever and pulled it. That set the gun platform turning, which was a start. The lever next to it was the vertical control, and the entire floor started raising up. We had only gone up three feet or so before the lights flickered out. The platform raised one more foot before slowing and stopping. Apparently, power to the entire bunker had been cut off.

Fortunately, the gun itself had manual rotation and elevation handles. I grabbed the elevation handle and spun it as fast as I could. As I did, I yelled to the Russians to bring over some shells. The Wraith soldiers seemed to have been selected for being small and sneaky. It took two of them to lift one shell and bring it over.

I got the elevation set right and set to spinning the rotational handle. I had turned it almost all the way in the correct direction when I was using the powered controls. It didn't take me long to finish laying the gun.

Both men were apparently unfamiliar with this sort of weapon, and my shouted orders did little good. I ended up pushing them out of the way and doing everything myself. My implanted knowledge made it second nature to operate the equipment.

I shoved the big shell in and slammed the breach. The blast of the cannon was deafening and sent both of the wraith troopers running back through the hatch. I yelled after them but realized it was pointless. I could grab shells, load them, adjust aim, and fire faster than trying to coordinate with those incompetents.

I brought the shells over two at a time, one under each arm.

My first shot landed 30 meters short of the fortress and 50 to the side. I spun the wheels and adjusted my aim. As I did so, I saw the closest gun of that fortress lifting into place.

Things were about to get exciting.

My gun emplacement shook as the ground heaved. Dirt showered over us. I couldn't tell how close the shot had landed. I shoved another shell in and adjusted the aim. The cannon roared and leapt backward on its pistons. I pulled open the chamber by feel as I watched the shot land. It struck the concrete border of the northern gun emplacement. Dirt and concrete chunks fountained into the air.

I finished loading and fired again, only giving the elevation wheel the slightest tug upward. My cannon roared just as the opposing gun emplacement fired.

I threw myself to the ground. The world exploded around me. I was thrown across the gun pit and slammed hard into an ammunition rack. Dirt and chunks of rock and concrete rained down on me.

I only waited a second before jumping up again, snatching up another round of ammunition and heading for the gun. The weapon itself was unharmed, but there was a chunk out of the edge of the parapet.

I dashed to the gun and worked the action, dropping the spent shell and shoving my new one in. As I dogged the breach, I looked up. The enemy gun barrel was cockeyed and silent. Smoke poured from it. For a moment I stared, hardly believing I had done it.

There was no time to waste. The installation had another gun on the other end as well as golems that even now were probably alerting their headquarters to our attack. I slammed rounds into the bunker, adjusting aim slightly to hit the watchtower and lobbing shots as near as I could to the far gun emplacement.

The installation to the north appeared to be the same design as this one, with two circular gun pits and a bunker of similar size, and a watchtower on top. From my position, I could barely see the farther gun emplacement. My next two rounds sent up plumes of rock and concrete, but with the third shot, I was rewarded with a fireball and column of black smoke.

I was just congratulating myself on my impressive shooting when a hum filled the air. It was more a feeling than a sound, vibrating the very air around me. I looked wildly around to see where it was coming from. All my hair stood on end as a bolt of lightning struck the watchtower behind me with a deafening crack.

My head rang. I realized with a shock that the installation on the hill to our south was a Tesla coil. A fucking lightning cannon. Apparently, Frankenstein was not out of tricks.

I scooped up an artillery round and lunged for the cannon. I pulled up the spent shell and slammed the new one home before throwing myself into the gunner’s seat. The gun was pointed in completely the wrong direction. I seized the knob that moved the cannon horizontally and spun the wheel as fast as I could work it. Each rotation moved the gun an agonizingly small distance. Around and around I spun until my arm burned, and then I switched hands. Inch by inch, foot by foot, the cannon crawled around.

All the hair stood up on the back of my neck an instant before the lightning crashed again. The bolt slammed into the other gun pit, the one to the south closer to the Tesla coils. The force of the concussion felt like a hundred elephants stamping on me at once. Chunks of concrete and twisted metal rained down all over the gun pit. All the while, I continued pumping the handle around and around and around.

These weapons were meant to be aimed by electric controls. The manual handles were only there as a backup. The long barrel swung towards the Tesla cannon with agonizing slowness. My hair stood on end. The air started to crackle around me. The barrel lined up on the target.

Boom!

The shell hit the mountainside just short of the Tesla coils, blasting them with broken rock. A lightning bolt shot out at almost the same moment. It cracked through the air over my head and set every nerve in my body tingling. How they were able to aim the lightning, I had no idea, but my shot had disrupted their accuracy.

I lunged out of the chair. The near miss of lightning had left my muscles twitching. I staggered towards the ammunition piles. I scooped up a shell and almost dropped it. I didn't trust myself to make another trip, so I grabbed a second shell before staggering back to the cannon. I loaded one in the gun and laid the other across my lap as I fine-tuned my aim. A little up, a little to the right.

The cannon roared again. The shell ripped through the Tesla coil antennas without exploding. Bits of metal flew in all directions. Hopefully, that would render their machine inoperable. I stuffed the last round in the cannon and dialed my aim downward. The final shell hit the base of one of the antennas and exploded. When the smoke and dust cleared, I could see the device had been left as a tangled mess.

I pulled myself from the gunner's chair and staggered across the pit. The platform the gun sat on was still raised, and I half climbed, half fell down the ladder.

I had no idea if Frankenstein had more of those devices or what their range was, but I knew I needed to get out of here quickly.

Staggering away from the bunker, I heard the approaching gunships. I threw myself into a pile of rocks and hugged the ground. The machines' unmuffled engines thrummed overhead as they circled the burned-out bunker complex. I had no idea if any of the Russian Wraiths had survived. I hadn’t seen any of them as I exited the shattered building.

The gunships circled the burning structure again before dropping down. One of them landed on the far side of the structure along the ridge to the north. The other landed right next to me.

I lifted my head above the pile of rocks I had taken shelter behind. A troop of golems left the gunship and headed up the hill and into the shattered remains of the fortress. Through the glass of the cockpit, I could see the pilot and flight engineer. Neither was looking at me.

I felt a maniac grin creep over my face. “You missed me, assholes,” I whispered. “But I’m not going to miss you.”