Free Killing Ground by James Rouch

‘We give them the latest machinery, the best computers, and still they only feel happy when they are pushing pieces of paper from tray to tray.’
    ‘Doesn’t any of this material ever get issued? The road in hasn’t seen real traffic, maybe not all winter.’ Tapping at a keyboard, Revell was surprised when the screen glowed to life, displaying the gibberish he’d typed. Its green glow was eerie in the dimly lit room.
    ‘I have not been here even that length of months. All I have seen is perhaps five or six small loads being taken out by Chinook. High-value specialized equipment, radar, that sort of thing. Not enough to keep the cobwebs off the stacker trucks.’ ‘Is that your task here, materials handling?’ ‘No, Major. I was sent here to prepare all this for destruction.’

    EIGHT
    Tugging open the elevator gate, Voke led across the dusty interior of the shell of a house and out into the rain.
    Looking back as he instinctively closed the street door behind him, Revell could see nothing about the property, even at this distance, that would betray its real purpose.
    Voke noticed the inspection. ‘It is good, isn’t it? As far as we know it has fooled all the Warpac sky-spies, surveillance satellites and reconnaissance aircraft. Certainly they have made no attempt to destroy this very tempting target.’
    ‘You think they still don’t know it’s here?’
    ‘Well, perhaps by now they do. I understand their interrogation techniques are crude but effective.’ Voke shrugged. ‘I expect by this time our man has told them everything. We shall have to hope they do not arrive quite yet. It would spoil my preparations.’
    ‘What are your plans for getting out?’
    ‘We were due to be picked up at about the time the jamming became so bad.’ Rain plastered to Voke’s face the long blond hair that made a fringe below the brim of his helmet. ‘The chopper did not arrive, so we altered our plans.’
    ‘Reckon they forgot about you?’ Revell noticed that the road was not the soft asphalt it appeared, but concrete thick enough to take the biggest trucks. It had been washed over with tone-down paint, but a small patch that had been missed revealed its true colour.
    ‘Forgot? Yes, certainly it is possible. At this time a company of pioneers will not rank high in the list of transport priorities, especially as many of my men are too old for combat duties. Old William admits to fifty-six, but I think he could well be sixty, or even more. There are about five of us under the age of thirty, out of ninety-six. No, it is ninety-four now, isn’t it?’
    ‘So what are you going to do, gas up a few of the Bradley’s and make a run for it?’
    ‘Surely you are familiar with the ways of the Dutch army, Major.’ Voke laughed. ‘Even in battle they have to vote on everything. My men discussed the position this morning, when it became obvious the pick-up was not going to happen. I was not invited to the meeting. There I was kicking my heels expecting them to produce a demand for overtime pay, and instead they said that they wished to stay and defend this complex.’
    ‘With less than a hundred men?’ Revell tried to keep the amazement out of his voice. ‘This place is vast. You’d be spread far too thin. Sure you’ve got limitless ammunition, and if it was just a case of holding that narrow pass we entered by I’d say you could hold out for some hours. But there’s nothing to stop them pushing infantry through these hills at any one of a dozen points. The ground may be rough, but it’d only delay them, not stop them. Or they could come in low and fast and drop a few chopper loads before you could get Stingers on to them.’
    A smug look came over Voke’s face. ‘For air-defence there is an RAF regiment battery dug in at that farm. They too were due to be air-lifted out this morning, so we are not alone in being overlooked.’
    Revell had forgotten the Rapier they’d seen chasing the MIG. He had to concede that