Scenes from an Unholy War by Hideyuki Kikuchi Page A

The air of malevolence that enveloped them was channeled through the looks they gave D, but it vanished with shocking ease. Merciless and malevolent faces acquired embarrassingly stupid expressions of rapture, for they had looked at D’s face.
    This strangely amicable state between friend and foe existed for exactly one second. It was D that shattered it. To the men, it probably looked as if the gorgeous intruder had spread black wings and taken off. His talons were a blade crueler than any they’d ever known.
    —
    The tank in particular had a great many watch fires around it. The computer within it could navigate the vehicle, pinpoint enemies, and launch attacks that would destroy the defensive walls around a village. Its 150-millimeter cannon could reduce to dust anyone who resisted, while the four machine guns would turn them into hamburger. Three and a half inches of high-polymer armor were capable of deflecting any and all attacks by the enemy, making this tank essentially invincible out on the Frontier.
    “He’s late. What do we do?” Josh asked Palau in the depths of the darkness about thirty feet away, having crawled over to the other man like an insect.
    “Damned if I know. We’re running outta time. Do we do this, or what?” Palau said. Quickly he got to his feet, holding a small automatic pistol in either hand. Each had a silencer resembling a sausage on the end of it. “Cover me.”
    He dashed away.
    He came into the light of the fire. Spotting him, two of the guards raised their rifles. There were two faint phuuuut! sounds, like whispers from the spirit world. Shot right between the eyes, the guards flew backward.
    Palau swiftly circled around behind the tank. The remaining three guards jumped out.
    “What the hell?”
    Two of them were wearing bulletproof helmets, masks, and body armor. Reconnaissance from the air hadn’t shown their gear.
    “Seriously, what the hell ?”
    Phuuuut! Phuuuut! Phuuuut! Phuuuut! Phuuuut!
    Spent casings of gold flew through the air, and one of the men fell after being hit ten times. One of the men in body armor was shot through the neck. The other one managed to deflect all the bullets as he brought his rifle to bear.
    A report that was nothing like that of a handgun split the night air. The element of surprise was lost. The whole encampment awoke at once.
    “Damn it—die when I shoot you!” Palau cursed as the massive round from the rifle scored a hit on his solar plexus. It left an entry wound the size of a grown man’s head. But flesh rolled into the wound like mud, filling it up again. Two more slugs hit him in the chest. And the same thing happened with both of them.
    “Truth be known, I was born for shootouts—see, I’ve got this regenerative ability.”
    Taking aim at the throat of the dumbfounded guard, he fired off ten shots, two of which found their mark.
    Bending back like a longbow, the man fell. From behind him came shouts.
    “We’re under attack!”
    “It’s over by the tank!”
    “Don’t let ’em get away!”
    The voices and footfalls barreled closer.
    Clucking his tongue in disgust as he changed direction, Palau fired indiscriminately. After two or three shots, the slide remained back.
    “Oops, out of ammo. Some pro I am!”
    As he stood bolt upright, something howled past his chest. Twenty yards away, flames exploded among the figures headed toward him.
    “Consider yourself covered!” Josh called out in the distance.
    “Took your sweet time about it!” Palau spat as he raced over to the tank, took an explosive charge and timer from his belt, and pushed them into the tank treads.
    There was a mechanical whir.
    “What the hell?”
    The turret of the tank was turning.
    “Don’t tell me it’s gonna fire that thing,” Palau said as the barrel of the gun swung over his head. He let out a sigh of relief, then cried out.
    Right in front of his face was the smaller muzzle of the machine gun mounted beside the tank’s main gun.
    —
    A