remember？ We keep fighting。 It’s what we do。”
Siegler looked slightly mollified。 He said； “Maybe Borscht’s ghost will help us again。”
Wulfe’s blood turned to ice…water。
“What did you just say？”
“Damn it； Siegler；” Holtz hissed。 “I frakking told you about that。”
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Siegler seemed to realise the gravity of the mistake he had just made。 His eyes flashed from
Wulfe to Holtz in a panic。 “Sorry； Holtz！ It just came out。”
Wulfe turned to Holtz。 “Explain yourself； corporal。 And that’s not a request。 It’s an order。”
Holtz shook his head and sighed。 “What did you expect； sarge？ Did you think we were too
stupid to put it together？ That canyon on Palmeros； you losing it and stopping the tank for no reason。
Then Strieber’s lads getting hamstrung by that landmine。 And there was the medicae report。 Old
Borscht died at almost the exact moment you started hearing a voice on the intercom that no one
else could。”
Wulfe slumped in his chair。
“You knew all this time？” he muttered。 “Why the hell didn’t you put in for a transfer？ Your
sergeant thinks he saw a ghost； for Throne’s sake。 Metzger； did you know about this？”
The driver answered in a sullen tone； “Afraid so； sarge。 It was your warp…dreams mostly。 You
did a lot of shouting in your sleep while we were between systems。”
Wulfe was dumbfounded。
“We don’t think you’ve lost it；” said Siegler。
“Right；” said Holtz。 “In fact； we were pissed off that you didn’t tell us yourself。 I mean； the
ghost didn’t just save you。 It saved all of us。 We could have prayed for Borscht’s soul together。
Viess took it pretty badly。 Said you should have trusted us more。”
Wulfe saw how foolish he had been to think they wouldn’t put two and two together。 “I couldn’t
tell you the truth。 I wasn’t sure it was the truth myself。 I still haven’t come to terms with it。 Not
really。 If it ever got out… I don’t want van Droi to think I’ve lost it。 I don’t want to lose my
command。”
“You really have lost it if you think the lieutenant doesn’t already suspect the truth；” said Holtz。
“I mean； he never really pushed for a full account； did he？ He just accepted that groxshit report you
submitted。 No questions asked。”
Wulfe thought about that。 It was true。 He had been too relieved at the time to question the
lieutenant’s easy acceptance of the report。
“Who else knows？” he asked。
Holtz shrugged。 “No one but us； Viess； and probably van Droi。”
“It has to stay that way；” said Wulfe。 “You all know how well it would go down with the
commissars。”
“You gonna tell us what actually happened then？” asked Holtz； hoping to bargain。
Wulfe didn’t get the chance to respond。 The vox…board on his left started blinking。 It was the
company command channel。
“Sword Leader here； sir；” said Wulfe。 “Go ahead。”
He listened to the lieutenant’s transmission。 It crackled with static； but he noted how much the
vox…signal had improved in the last few minutes。 Then he toggled back over to the intercom system。
“Well？” Holtz asked。
“The storm’s clearing；” said Wulfe。 “Van Droi wants all vehicles checked for damage。 I’m
going up front。 It’s time to find out what happened to Muller and his men。”
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CHAPTER TWELVE
The wind was still howling； and the air dragged at his clothes and hurled sand at him with stinging
force； but Gossefried van Droi knew he couldn’t wait any longer。 If there were men still alive in
Corporal Muller’s tank； they would need extrication and medical attention as soon as possible。 Now
if he could just find the bloody thing。
“Here； sir！” yelled a trooper barely visible as a shadow up ahead。 The wind snatched at the
man’s words； but van Droi could just make them out。 He hurried over。
“Over here！” said the man as van Droi closed。 Others had heard and gathered towards him。
“Careful！” he told them。 “There’s a sheer drop。”
Van Droi halted at the man’s side and； peering through his goggles； read the name strip above
the left breast pocket of his fatigues。 It said Brunner； one of Richter’s crew。
“Show me； Brunner；” said van Droi。 Brunner moved forward carefully for a couple of metres；
guiding van Droi。 Then he pointed down towards the area in front of his feet。 Van Droi moved level
with him and looked down to find himself standing right on the edge of a sheer drop。
Brunner directed his attention to the ground on the left； and van Droi saw two tank tracks
leading straight to the edge。 Damn it； he thought。 Ten kilometres per hour was too fast； after all。
They’d have been over before they could stop； and the chains weren’t made to suspend a tank’s full
weight。
He squinted down into the shadows； but the drop was too deep to show him anything solid。 The
storm was still cloaking the area enough to hamper vision at that range； but it was weakening all the
time。 What would be revealed when it had passed completely？ Had the orks followed them in？ Were
they closing on their backs even now？ There was nowhere to run。 Forward progress was blocked by
the edge of the escarpment。 How far did it extend to left and right？
The answers would have to wait。 Van Droi needed to speak to Colonel Stromm at once。 He
ordered everyone back to their tanks in the meantime； and then returned to Foe…Breaker。 Once he
was inside and the hatches were all locked； he flipped a switch on his vox…board and said； “Armour
Leader to Colonel Stromm； come in； please。”
“Go ahead； lieutenant。 What’s the situation？”
“Not good； sir。 As I feared； one of our tanks took a dive。 There’s a precipice about ten or twelve
metres in front of my lead tank。 No idea how deep it runs； sir。 The bottom isn’t visible in all this
dust。 I’m guessing it’s deep。 Deep enough to be a big problem； anyway。”
“Do we know its extent？ If the orks are right behind us…”
“There’s no way of knowing right now； sir。 The storm is moving on quickly； though； so I expect
we’ll have decent visibility in half an hour or less。 Suggest we wait it out until then。”
“Of course； lieutenant。 I don’t want any more accidents。 Could any of your men； the ones in the
tank… could they have survived？”
Van Droi thought about this for a second before answering。 For all the reliability of the Leman
Russ — a design that had barely changed in many thousands of years — the turret basket was still a
dangerous place to be。 The centre of the hot； cramped； noisy little space was usually dominated by
the huge mechanism of the main gun。 On one side of this sat the gunner； on the other sat the loader。
Close behind the gunner； the commander sat within easy reach of everything he needed： maps；
comms equipment； small arms and more。 What made it so dangerous were the stowage boxes bolted
to every surface； their metal edges and corners responsible for more wounds than enemy fire。 The
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locking levers for the hatches weren’t much better。 They stuck out like blunted metal barbs。
Veterans got used to this and reported fewer injuries with each passing year of service； but the new
meat learned the hard way。
“Chances are； sir； that most of the men inside are badly injured；” said van Droi。 “More than
likely there’s at least one dead。”
“But you think there will be survivors？”
“Can’t really say at this juncture； sir。 It depends on the height of the drop。”
Stromm paused； leaving van Droi to listen to the white noise that filled his right ear for a
moment。 “You know； van Droi； that if the orks are close by； I can’t give you the time you need。”
Van Droi shook his head。 “I know that； sir。 If there’s any chance at all； though； that some of
them are stuck in there； I owe it to them to get them out。”
He was actually thinking that Stromm’s Fighting 98th owed it to them； but he didn’t say so。 A
second later； he was glad he hadn’t。
“My boys and I will do everything we can to help； van Droi； but time really is of the essence
here。 Hold for one second。”
Stromm broke the link； and then re…connected a few seconds later。 “Take a look outside；
lieutenant；” he said。 “It looks like the storm has all but passed。”
Van Droi craned his neck and peered through the forward vision block set in the ceiling just
above his station。 He could see the tank in front of him in sharp detail； the treads on her windward
side piled high with red sand。 Beyond her； he thought he glimpsed the horizon and… could it be？
Was that the pale silhouette of a jutting mountain range？ It was difficult to be sure。 Behind the thick
brown clouds in the west； there were hints of the sun moving lower； but the day was still hot； and
the mirage line shimmered。 If there really were mountains over there…
Suddenly； something else occurred to van Droi。 The orks！ He spun to look through the rear
vision blocks； but The Adamantine was blocking his view。
“Any sign of the orks； sir？” he voxed to Stromm。 “Have you got anyone checking the rear？”
Again there was a pause while Stromm talked to his people。 Then； “No sign of the filthy beasts；
lieutenant。 I can’t believe we lost them so easily； but eyes at the rear report no sign of them。 Nothing
whatsoever to our backs。”
By the Emperor； thought van Droi。 Could it really have worked？ Had the storm covered their
tracks and sent the orks off somew