area to get at the larger vehicle—a LAV 300, J.B. called it—and see if they could get it running. Unfortunately, the electrical system was shot. No matter what J.B. tried—charging the battery, replacing fuses—the large machine’s engine refused to turn over.
“Too bad. That would have been riding in style. Well, let’s try the Commando tomorrow.”
On that one they had better luck. J.B. spent the evening sipping broth and reading the thick manual, then Ryan and he took most of the morning to go over the engine, changing the oil, checking the spark plugs and making sure its fuel was good before trying to fire it up. The rumble of the gas engine split the hot silence outside, its exhaust belching white smoke that quickly dissipated in the still afternoon air.
“Let’s take her for a spin.” J.B. climbed into thedriver’s seat while Ryan took the commander’s position. As he passed the gunner’s station, he noticed a joystick control and small monitor there. “Hey, haven’t we seen this before?”
J.B. glanced back, and his lips split in a rare smile. “Yeah, I was gonna show you that in a bit. Now buckle up.”
Ryan eased himself into the commander’s seat, then J.B. depressed the clutch, shifted into gear, eased the Gas down and got the Commando rolling. The steering was stiff at first, but as the amphibious ground car warmed up, J.B. was able to turn the wheel with less effort. The engine sounded surprisingly good, but he drove it in a large circle, then back to the front of the garage, where he let it idle for a minute before turning it off.
“Well, that should get us most of the way there, at least. It’s got a range of four hundred miles, and we’ll bring extra gas, but who knows what the terrain is like between here and there. Figure we’ll head out at first light tomorrow?”
“Yeah, use the rest of the day to load up and smoke the rest of that venison. Now, what’s this device you’re gonna show me?”
J.B. scrambled out of the driver’s seat and into the gunners, moving as spry as a kid with his first blaster. Ryan settled back, ready for a torrent of words to spill forth on the only subject that got J.B. excited—munitions.
“This little number’s called the XM101 Common Remotely Operated Weapons System, or CROWS for short. Basically, instead of a manually operated turret, where your shooter has to view their targets by eyeball, this system lets you acquire your target, rangefind and shoot from the comfort of your armored cockpit.”
J.B. grasped the joystick and moved it to the left, then the right. Above them, Ryan heard a mechanical whirring as something moved on the roof. J.B. turned on the small LCD screen, which flared to life and showed the desolate landscape outside. “The camera is independently mounted from the blaster, so you can be tracking someone, but it can be pointed in a different direction. Less chance of scaring whoever you’re looking at that way.”
Ryan snorted. “Yeah, that option comes up so often out here.”
“Well, at least you can watch your target before deciding to reduce them to a bloody smear. The gunner has full 360 viewing capability—eyes in the back of his head. It can also elevate to a sixty-degree angle, and decline to a twenty-degree angle, giving us a fantastic field of fire. But that isn’t even the best part.”
“Oh?”
J.B. flipped up a bright red switch cover, revealing a bright red switch underneath. He flipped it up, and a gunsight appeared on the screen, zeroing in on the leafless tree trunk. A number appeared in the upper right hand corner—43.71 yards—and the crosshairs flashed from red to green.
J.B. pressed the large trigger mounted on the front of the joystick, and a loud, rumbling burst erupted from the top of the vehicle. Ryan pressed his hands to his ears, but as soon as the cacophony had begun, it was over. Checking the screen, he found the tree had simply vanished. The waist-thick trunk had been blown into
“Too bad. That would have been riding in style. Well, let’s try the Commando tomorrow.”
On that one they had better luck. J.B. spent the evening sipping broth and reading the thick manual, then Ryan and he took most of the morning to go over the engine, changing the oil, checking the spark plugs and making sure its fuel was good before trying to fire it up. The rumble of the gas engine split the hot silence outside, its exhaust belching white smoke that quickly dissipated in the still afternoon air.
“Let’s take her for a spin.” J.B. climbed into thedriver’s seat while Ryan took the commander’s position. As he passed the gunner’s station, he noticed a joystick control and small monitor there. “Hey, haven’t we seen this before?”
J.B. glanced back, and his lips split in a rare smile. “Yeah, I was gonna show you that in a bit. Now buckle up.”
Ryan eased himself into the commander’s seat, then J.B. depressed the clutch, shifted into gear, eased the Gas down and got the Commando rolling. The steering was stiff at first, but as the amphibious ground car warmed up, J.B. was able to turn the wheel with less effort. The engine sounded surprisingly good, but he drove it in a large circle, then back to the front of the garage, where he let it idle for a minute before turning it off.
“Well, that should get us most of the way there, at least. It’s got a range of four hundred miles, and we’ll bring extra gas, but who knows what the terrain is like between here and there. Figure we’ll head out at first light tomorrow?”
“Yeah, use the rest of the day to load up and smoke the rest of that venison. Now, what’s this device you’re gonna show me?”
J.B. scrambled out of the driver’s seat and into the gunners, moving as spry as a kid with his first blaster. Ryan settled back, ready for a torrent of words to spill forth on the only subject that got J.B. excited—munitions.
“This little number’s called the XM101 Common Remotely Operated Weapons System, or CROWS for short. Basically, instead of a manually operated turret, where your shooter has to view their targets by eyeball, this system lets you acquire your target, rangefind and shoot from the comfort of your armored cockpit.”
J.B. grasped the joystick and moved it to the left, then the right. Above them, Ryan heard a mechanical whirring as something moved on the roof. J.B. turned on the small LCD screen, which flared to life and showed the desolate landscape outside. “The camera is independently mounted from the blaster, so you can be tracking someone, but it can be pointed in a different direction. Less chance of scaring whoever you’re looking at that way.”
Ryan snorted. “Yeah, that option comes up so often out here.”
“Well, at least you can watch your target before deciding to reduce them to a bloody smear. The gunner has full 360 viewing capability—eyes in the back of his head. It can also elevate to a sixty-degree angle, and decline to a twenty-degree angle, giving us a fantastic field of fire. But that isn’t even the best part.”
“Oh?”
J.B. flipped up a bright red switch cover, revealing a bright red switch underneath. He flipped it up, and a gunsight appeared on the screen, zeroing in on the leafless tree trunk. A number appeared in the upper right hand corner—43.71 yards—and the crosshairs flashed from red to green.
J.B. pressed the large trigger mounted on the front of the joystick, and a loud, rumbling burst erupted from the top of the vehicle. Ryan pressed his hands to his ears, but as soon as the cacophony had begun, it was over. Checking the screen, he found the tree had simply vanished. The waist-thick trunk had been blown into
Similar Books
