“Check the console.” J.B. laughed. “They got gold leaf and silver embellishing the bastard controls!”
“Gaudy house,” Jak said, a wry smile on his face.
“I wouldn’t know, son,” Doc intoned. “I have never been to anyplace as nice as this. Other than the Grand Hotel in Vermont.”
“Hey!” J.B. called. “Look here! The ammo bins for the 75 mm recoilless rifles are packed to the brim.”
“Full here,” Jak added, checking the ammo boxes of the port .50-caliber machine gun.
Dean rushed to the rear. “So are the 40 mm rapidfires!”
“They rebuilt and reloaded everything,” Ryan said in wry amusement. “Must have been planning on using it as their private war wag.”
Mildred laughed. “We should thank them for the gifts before we leave.”
“If we have missiles again,” Krysty said, trying to activate the launch controls, “then we can put a couple of these babies into the Citadel.” She fumbled with the switches, but couldn’t get a response. “Somebody start the engines, I want to get a reading on these.”
Ryan moved for the driver’s seat, checking for traps first, but the chair and dashboard were clean.
“We have a problem back here,” Doc announced, looking inside a cabinet. “All of the MRE food packs are gone.”
“What did the heirs replace them with?” Mildred asked, sounding concerned. “Roast quail? Caviar?”
He closed the door. “Nothing. The locker is empty.”
“That’s trouble,” Dean said, his stomach giving a soft rumble. He never seemed to be able to get enough to eat these days.
“Rather have bullets than food any day,” J.B. said, toying with a golden tassel attached to a trigger assembly. “Hope they didn’t mess with the feeder mechanisms.”
“Damn fools,” Doc agreed dourly. “You double-check the guns. I’ll go check on Shard and the Pep Boys.
Cursing softly, Ryan tried again to start the engines, but nothing happened. “Something’s wrong,” he stated. “We got no power to the diesels.”
“I’ll check,” J.B. stated, and, removing a hatch, he wiggled under the console. Tense minutes passed as he muttered to himself and twisted uncooperative wires.
“Well?” Ryan demanded as the Armorer crawled back into view.
“Try it now,” J.B. suggested, dusting off his hands.
Experimentally, Ryan pulled the choke and pushed the start button. Instantly the big engines roared into life, the console coming alive with indicators and quivering dials.
“We have missiles,” Krysty announced, tapping an indicator. “So what was the problem?”
“The fuse to the ignition was gone,” J.B. replied, taking a seat at the starboard .50-caliber machine gun. “No problem. These things always have spares in a plastic box nearby. Don’t want to get trapped in the middle of a battle because of a lousy piece of plastic.”
“We got eight,” Doc said, tossing a tire into the vehicle. “Help me get these on board.”
Dean and Jak jumped to assist in the task, while J.B. and Krysty kept watch at the blasterports.
With the aid of Mildred, Shard carefully climbed inside the craft, moving as if his bones were made of glass. He could only stare about the tank in awe. The physician tenderly directed him to a wall seat and helped the man operate the safety belt.
“It’s like a dream,” he whispered. “Truly, you are the parole board.”
“Not quite,” Ryan said, starting the diesels. Under the floor boards, the twin power plants rumbled in barely restrained fury, softly vibrating the entire vehicle.
Tires bounded into the tank through the back doors, the men grunting from the exertion.
“Ready,” Doc announced, slamming shut the rear doors and shoving home the lock.
“Eight?” Cawdor asked.
“Check. Two at each corner, one behind the other.”
“Good.” Ryan shifted gears. “J.B., man the left machine gun, Jak take the right. Dean and Doc, rear rapidfires. Krysty, load the recoilless rifles with AP shells. Mildred, watch over Shard. We don’t want those wounds opening up again.”
Everybody moved with a purpose. Spinning the steering wheel, Ryan directed Leviathan around in a halting circle until it faced the garage doors. Thick chains were wrapped around iron stanchions, locking the aluminum doors firmly in place. Ryan put the pedal to the metal and the tank crashed through the thin plating into smoky night.