When Tim finally did comply he did so with a vengeance. The resulting jerk to the right threw Sours off balance and to the left. Grabbing the tank commander’s hatch in an effort to keep from losing his footing, the master sergeant barely saved himself from slipping down into the turret. This effort, however, demanded his full attention, leaving him unable to keep track of the missile.

For a moment the Javelin gunner lost sight of the tank he was tracking. The violent turn had thrown up a huge wall of dust. While he hadn’t anticipated this maneuver, he wasn’t thrown by it. Smoothly he ended his steady tracking and laid his sight onto the center mass of the dust cloud. Though he wouldn’t be able to aim for the track as he had been ordered to, the gunner was confident that the guided missile would make its way through the thin veil of dust and smack the National Guard tank in the ass.

As if by sheer will the missile was enveloped by the cloud of dust just as the gunner controlling its flight had predicted, and found a mark. It didn’t strike low, in the suspension system. Instead it smacked the top of the engine compartment. While the detonation of the Javelin itself was rather unspectacular, the effects that its warhead had on the turbine engine, spinning at max RPMs, was.

Nathan had barely had time to gain his feet before a flash off to the east, where the bulk of the company was assembling, caused him to pause. Looking up and over in that direction, he saw the pillar of black smoke shoot straight up just as the sound of the Javelin’s detonation reached him.

Behind him one of his troopers was also watching. “Oh, shit, man,” the trooper exclaimed, half concerned, half in awe. “They’re using mortars on us.”

Looking around, Nathan saw other soldiers in his platoon had stopped what they were doing and were staring. “It’s not artillery or mortars,” Nathan yelled confidently, not really thinking about the effects of his statement. “Someone just killed a tank.”

The mention of the word “tank” caused those paratroopers who had heard Nathan to pause. Those who had not already done so stopped what they were doing and looked over at the angry black pillar of smoke rising against the pale morning light. Even Wahler was transfixed by the sight and what it represented. In the silence surrounding him, Nathan could make out the faint crackling of the flames as they consumed the stricken vehicle. A paratrooper holding his hands up over his eyes shook his head. “Don’t think it was a tank. Bradley, maybe, but not …”