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Read e-book online The Tank Lords (Hammer's Slammer's S.) PDF

By David Drake

ISBN-10: 0671877941

ISBN-13: 9780671877941

Colonel Alois Hammer has welded 5 thousand killers right into a weapon extra lethal than the other within the human universe. whilst a planetary executive faces threats from guerillas, insurgents or terrorists, the boys they rent are Hammer's Slammers, identified through the galaxy for his or her chilly, ruthless ferocity, their skill to defeat overwhelming forces and their willingness to head up opposed to very unlikely odds. How do they do it? They definitely do not abide by way of the principles of civilised conflict ...but then no one ever claimed that the Hammers have been great! even if their likelihood is one step clear of hopeless - those that oppose them haven't any probability at all...

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Extra info for The Tank Lords (Hammer's Slammer's S.)

Sample text

Ortnahme didn’t take any chances. He hammered until the grip of the multitool thumped slimy dirt instead of the Consie’s head. Herman’s Whore was circling back. Ortnahme tried to stand, then sat heavily. He waved his left arm. By the time Simkins pulled up beside him, the warrant leader would be ready to get up and weld that cursed access cover in place. Until then, he’d figured he’d just sit and catch his breath. Terrain is one thing on a contour map, where a dip of three meters in a hundred is dead flat, and another thing on the ground, where it’s enough difference to hide an object the size of a tank.

Cop,” muttered Wylde through his bandages. “Bloody hell,” muttered Cooter with the back of his hand tightly against his mouth. “May the Lord have mercy on our souls,” said/thought June Ranson. “Speed’s essential,” Hammer resumed. “You have authorization to combat-loss vehicles rather than slow down. ” “I’ll be combat-lossing crews, Colonel,” Ranson’s voice said. “But they’re replaceable too. . ” Cooter gasped. Wylde grunted something that might have been either laughter or pain. Hammer opened his mouth, then closed it with an audible clop.

The Consies were beat—beaten good. Multiply what her teams had done at Camp Progress by the full weight of the Regiment—with artillery and perfect artillery targets for a change—and the Conservative Action Movement on Prosperity didn’t have enough living members to bury its dead. . “Nobody was expecting it, Captain Ranson,” Hammer said. The whiskers on his chin and jowls were white, though the close-cropped hair on the colonel’s head was still a sandy brown. “The National Government wasn’t, we weren’t.

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The Tank Lords (Hammer's Slammer's S.) by David Drake


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