The Complete Hammer's Slammers, Vol. 2

The Thunderbolt Division was cheap because it wasn't much good. Its equipment was low-tech, little better than what Meridienne's indigenous forces had bought for themselves. The mercenaries' main benefit to their employers was their experience. Theywerefull-time, professional soldiers, not amateurs getting on-the-job training in their first war.

Then the Sincanmos met the threat head on: they hired Hammer's Slammers and prepared to smash every sign of organization in the northern half of the continent in a matter of weeks.

Des Grieux didn't see any reason the Sincanmo plan wouldn't work. Neither did Captain Garnaud, the commanding officer of Delta Company.

Normally line troops expected to serve disciplinary sentences after the fighting was over.In this case, Garnaud had decreed immediate active time for Des Grieux. D Company didn't need the veteran against the present threat, and Garnaud correctly believed that missing the possibility of seven days' action was a more effective punishment for Slick Des Grieux than a year's down-time restriction.

But now he was getting out early . . . .

Des Grieux followed Daniels into the close quarters of the jailor's office. The communications display was live with the angry holographic image of a senior lieutenant in battledress.

The face was a surprise.The officer was Katrina Grimsrud, the executive officer of H Company,rather than one of D Company's personnel."Where the bloody hell have you been?" she snarled as soon as the jailor moved into pickup range of the display's cameras.

Daniels sat down at the desk crammed into the half of the container which didn't hold his bed and living quarters. His artificial feet splayed awkwardly at the sudden movement; they needed tuning or perhaps replacement.

"Sorry, sir," he muttered as he manipulated switches. His equipment was old and ill-mated, cast-offs from several different departments. Junk gravitated to this use on its way to the scrap pile. "Had to get the prisoner."

He adjusted the retinal camera. "Okay, Des Grieux," he said. "Look into this."

Des Grieux leaned his forehead against the padded frame."What's going on?" he demanded.

Light flashed as the unit recorded his retinal pattern and matched it with the file in Central Records. Daniels' printer whined, rolling out hard copy. Des Grieux straightened, blinking as much from confusion as from the brief glare.