First and Only by Dan Abnett Page A

good with explosives, so Corbec sent him immediately to assist Curral and Grell’s demolition detail. Neff was a medic, and they could use all the medical help they could get. Rawne’s tactical brilliance was not in question, and Corbec swiftly put a portion of the men under his direct command.
    In the flicker of the shellfire against the night, which flashed and burst in a crazy syncopation against the beat of the drums, Grell returned to Corbec and reported the charges were ready; fifteen-minute settings.
    Corbec advanced the company down the main communication way of the factory space away from the mined sheds at double time, in a paired column with a floating spearhead fire-team of six: Sergeant Grell, the sniper Larkin, Mkoll and Baru the scouts, Melyr with the rocket launcher and Domor with a sweeper set. Their job was to pull ahead of the fast moving column and secure the path, carrying enough mobile firepower to do more than just warn the main company.
    The sheds they had mined began to explode behind them. Incandescent mushrooms of green and yellow flame punched up into the blackness, shredding the dark shapes of the buildings and silencing the nearest drums.
    Other, more distant rhythms made themselves heard as the roar died back. The drum contraptions closest to them had masked the fact that others lay further away. The beating ripple tapped at them. Corbec spat sourly. The drums were grating at him, making his temper rise. It reminded him of nights back home in the nalwood forests of Tanith. Stamp on a chirruping cricket near your watchfire and a hundred more would take up the call beyond the firelight.
    ‘Come on,’ he growled at his men. ‘We’ll find them all. We’ll stamp ’em all out. Every fething one of ’em.’
    There was a heartfelt murmur of agreement from his company. They moved forward.
    M ILO GRABBED G AUNT ’ S sleeve and pulled him around just a heartbeat before greenish explosions lit the sky about six kilometres to their west.
    ‘Closer shelling?’ Milo asked. The commissar pulled his scope round and the milled edge of the automatic dial whirred and spun as he played the field of view over the distant buildings.
    ‘What was that?’ Zoren’s voice rasped over the short range intercom. ‘That was not shellfire.’
    ‘Agreed,’ Gaunt replied. He ordered his men to halt and hold the area they had reached, a damp and waterlogged section of low-lying storage bays. Then he dropped back with Milo and a couple of troopers to meet with Zoren who led his men up to meet them.
    ‘Someone else is back here with us, on the wrong side of hell,’ he told the Vitrian leader. ‘Those buildings were taken out with krak charges, standard issue demolitions.’
    Zoren nodded his agreement. ‘I… I am afraid…’ he began respectfully, ‘…that I doubt it is any of mine. Vitrian discipline is tight. Unless driven by some necessity unknown to us, Vitrian troops would not ignite explosions like that. It might as well act as a marker fire for the enemy guns. They’ll soon be shelling that section, knowing someone was there.’
    Gaunt scratched his chin. He had been pretty sure it was a Tanith action too: Rawne, Feygor, Curral… maybe even Corbec himself. All of them had a reputation of acting without thinking from time to time.
    As they watched, another series of explosions went off. More sheds destroyed.
    ‘At this rate,’ Gaunt snapped, ‘they might as well vox their position to the enemy!’
    Zoren called his communications officer to join them and Gaunt wound the channel selector on the vox-set frantically as he repeated his call sign into the wire-framed microphone. The range was close. There was a chance.
    T HEY HAD JUST set and flattened the third series of drumsheds and were moving into girder-framed tunnels and walkways when Lukas called over to Colonel Corbec. There was a signal.
    Corbec hurried over across the wet concrete, ordering Curral to take his demolition squad to the next row