Minka nodded. ‘Yes, sir.’ She turned to the others. ‘Right, I need two of you.’

They all volunteered.

She picked Baine and Jaromir.

‘Orugi,’ she called out. ‘Give me the melta.’

He was reluctant to hand it over, but she was insistent. She took the weight of it in her hands and gave her pistol to Viktor. ‘Here,’ she said. ‘Take command if anything should happen to me.’ Talking to the rest of them she said, ‘We’re going to blast that door open. When we rush forward, cover us. Understand?’

They nodded.

Minka took a deep breath, and said a few words to the God-Emperor. Half prayer, part apology, part appeal. Private stuff. Between her and the Emperor.

She didn’t know if He had heard or not. ‘Cover us,’ she mouthed.

They nodded again.

Minka began counting down from three. At two, she started running.

The trench was faced with a steep, smooth fall designed to tip any attackers into a deadly killing zone. Minka slid down the facing, leapt the last few yards into the bottom of the dry moat, bent double.

The moat had been kept clean and empty. She got to the other side and threw herself against the foundation wall of the bastion. Baine and Jaromir were right behind her. There was no cover, of course. Baine pointed out a loophole looking down at them.

She could see the dark round muzzle of the gun. ‘Quick!’ she hissed. The Cadians were already firing at the gun ports as Baine and Jaromir made a stirrup with their hands and lifted her.

She scrambled up, aimed the melta, and fired. The air rippled before her and she had to look away as the backwash seared her face; the pinpoint beam was thousands of centigrade. And then the gun whined down as the charge was spent.

Minka opened her eyes. The gun had melted a fist-sized hole, but there was an inner door beneath it. It remained untouched. She felt her heart sink.

But there was something odd.

They were still alive. No one had shot at them.

She couldn’t believe her luck. ‘Try the window!’ Baine pointed. Above her was a narrow observation window, set deep in the rockcrete wall. There was a metal grille screening the opening. She fired at that, and the beam cut through the heavy metal bars easily. Gobbets of molten iron dripped down. One landed on Jaro­mir’s arm and went straight through flak armour, cloth and flesh.

He did not let out a sound.

Minka had just enough room to get her foot into the hole and kick. She rammed her heel against the steaming iron. On the third kick one side came away. She scrambled about and stripped off her flak armour to squeeze through the gap.

She had to wiggle her shoulders to get through, but then she dropped inside. Stone galleries ran away on either side. If there were any defenders, they were occupied elsewhere.