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leave　weapons　like　that　behind。　By　the　blasted　Eye；　we’ve　got　a　fight　on　our　hands。
It　had　been　impossible　for　Bussmann　to　gauge　the　thickness　of　the　wall　and　how　well　it　would
stand　up　to　the　weaponry　of　the　18th　Army　Group；　but　it　certainly　looked　like　it　could　take　a
beating。　On　the　other　hand；　some　of　the　plates　were　rusting；　and　orks　rarely　built　anything　with
consistent　strength　throughout。　There　would　be　irregularities　in　the　structure　that　Exolon　could
exploit　if　only　they　could　find　them。
The　question　was；　would　they　have　the　chance？　Bussmann　had　spotted　numerous　hinged　plates
set　in　the　wall　at　apparently　random　points。　A　few　of　them　had　fallen　off；　their　bolts　having　rusted；
revealing　the　nature　of　the　others。　They　were　firing　ports；　and　the　cannon　they　hid　were　massive。
At　the　end　of　his　report；　Sergeant　Bussmann　cast　a　somewhat　anxious　glance　at　Colonel
Marrenburg。　Then　he　took　a　deep　breath　and　said；　“In　my　opinion；　sirs；　a　direct　frontal　assault　on　the
ork　wall　will　result　in　very　heavy　losses。　If　it　were　up　to　me—”
“Sergeant；”　snapped　Marrenburg；　cutting　Bussmann　off。　“You　will　restrict　yourself　to　answering
direct　questions。”
Bussmann　flushed　and　an　angry　look　stole　across　his　face；　but　he　said；　“I　apologise　if　I　spoke　out
of　turn；　sir。”
General　deViers　cleared　his　throat　and　addressed　the　sergeant。　“We’ll　overlook　it　this　time；
sergeant；　but　think　on　this：　without　hardship　there　can　be　no　glory。　Show　me　something　worth　doing
that　doesn’t　have　its　price。”
Bergen　wanted　to　roll　his　eyes；　and；　judging　by　the　sergeant’s　sudden　look　of　disbelief；
Bussmann　felt　the　same。　Before　the　scout　could　dig　himself　a　deeper　hole；　however；　Bergen　jumped
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in　and　said；　“Thank　you　very　much　for　your　report；　sergeant。　Your　service　today　has　been　noted。
Unless　the　general　wishes　to　ask　anything　else…”
DeViers　shook　his　head。
“In　that　case；”　continued　Bergen；　“you’re　dismissed。”
Bussmann　snapped　out　a　sharp　salute；　turned；　and　marched　out　into　the　light　of　day。
“We　need　to　focus　on　the　gates；”　said　Killian。　“From　his　report；　it　sounds　like　they’re　hinged　to
open　outwards。　They’re　far　too　big　to　ram　open　anyway。　How　in　the　blasted　warp　are　we　going　to
breach　them？”
It　was　Colonel　Vinnemann；　hunched　in　his　chair　like　some　kind　of　cathedral　gargoyle；　who
answered。　“We　all　know　orks。　Chances　are；　when　they　see　us　coming；　they’ll　open　the　gates　and
start　spilling　out　like　rats　from　a　burning　building。　We　can　fight　our　way　through　if　we　don’t　give
them　a　chance　to　close　the　gates　again。”
Bergen　caught　General　deViers　looking　over　at　the　disfigured　form　of　Vinnemann　with　an
expression　of　barely　concealed　distaste；　and；　for　the　first　time　since　leaving　Hadron　Base；　he　felt　a
sudden　powerful　resurgence　in　his　contempt　for　the　old　general。
“And　if　they　don’t　come　spilling　out？”　asked　a　dark…skinned　colonel　by　the　name　of　Meyers。　He
was　tall　and　thin；　vulture…like；　and　one　of　his　eyes　was　a　white　orb　without　a　hint　of　iris　or　pupil。　He
was　one　of　Killian’s　men。
Colonel　Vinnemann　smiled　his　crooked　smile　and　said；　“Then　Angel　of　the　Apocalypse　will　have
to　roll　up　and　knock　on　their　door。”
Bergen　scanned　the　faces　of　the　men　seated　in　the　tent　and　saw　a　few　smiling　at　Vinnemann’s
remark；　but　the　atmosphere　was　still　heavy。　No　one　had　really　expected　this。　They　weren’t　prepared
for　any　kind　of　extended　siege。　They　were　hundreds　of　kilometres　from　their　forward　base；　and　if
they　entered　any　kind　of　stalemate　with　the　orks；　their　supply　lines　would　be　extremely　vulnerable。
If　the　orks　had　any　kind　of　air　power；　bombing　Red　Gorge　would　cut　the　expeditionary　force　off
from　all　contact　with　Balkar。　The　intelligence　guiding　the　mission　had　been　sketchy　from　the
beginning　—　a　patchwork　of　Mechanicus　probe　data；　military　maps　dating　back　forty　years；　and
Officio　Strategos　guesswork　—　but　Bergen　had　never　been　so　sharply　aware　of　the　entire　mission’s
freewheeling；　underpinned　nature　as　he　was　right　now。
“So；　a　full　frontal　assault；”　said　Killian　unenthusiastically。　“We’ll　be　naked；　mind　you。　All　our
machines　racing　forwards　across　open　ground…　If　the　Emperor　isn’t　watching　over　us；　it’ll　be　a
bloody　massacre　at　mid…range。　You　all　heard　what　Bussmann　said　about　the　number　of　cannon　on
the　wall。”
“I　think　we　can　discount　much　of　that；”　said　a　scowling　deViers。　“Half　of　the　time；　ork
weaponry　doesn’t　even　work。”
“And　the　other　half；”　said　Rennkamp；　his　eyes　flashing；　“it　rips　our　boys　apart。”
DeViers　looked　suddenly　furious；　on　the　verge　of　throwing　one　of　his　rages；　but　the　sheer
number　of　men　present　and　their　quiet；　concentrated　manner　seemed　enough　to　quell　the　outburst
before　it　got　started。
That　was　close；　thought　Bergen。　Rennkamp　and　Killian　are　really　letting　loose　on　him。　Fine　with
me；　but　I’m　not　sure　the　colonels　need　to　see　it。
Bergen　didn’t　disagree　with　his　peers。　They　had　merely　voiced　the　thoughts　that　had　been
circling　in　his　own　head　all　this　time。　Here　they　all　were；　after　so　many　days　crossing　bare　sand　and
rock；　chasing　a　relic　that；　in　all　likelihood；　no　longer　existed；　and　before　them　was　the　last　and
greatest　obstacle　they　would　face。　Beyond　that　towering　wall　of　iron　and　steel；　in　a　rocky　valley
somewhere　at　the　foot　of　the　Ishawar　range；　lay　the　end　of　this　nightmare。　Yarrick’s　tank　would
either　be　there　or　it　wouldn’t。　In　either　case；　breaking　through　the　wall　would　bring　a　close　to　this
whole　endeavour。　They　could　pull　out。　They　could　head　for　Armageddon；　where　the　fighting　really
mattered。
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“I　say　we　do　it；”　said　Bergen；　suddenly　committed。　Every　eye　in　the　room　turned　towards　him。
“A　full　frontal　assault；　hammering　them　with　everything　we　have。　If　we　concentrate　our　efforts　on　a
small　enough　section；　I　think　we　can　pull　it　off。　I　think　we　can　break　through。”
“Knew　you’d　see　it　my　way；”　said　a　delighted　deViers；　leaning　across　in　his　chair　to　slap　Bergen
on　the　shoulder。
Bergen　fought　not　to　flinch　away　from　the　general’s　hand。
What　choice　have　I　got？　he　thought　bitterly。　Throne　forgive　me　if　I　want　a　quick　end　to　this。　It’s
your　fault　we’re　here　at　all；　you　glory…hunting　old　bastard。　By　the　Emperor；　I　hope　this　is　the　last
time　I　serve　under　you。　With　a　bit　of　luck；　it’ll　be　the　last　time　anyone　does。
“Colonel　Vinnemann；　you’ll　lead　the　vanguard；”　said　deViers。　“I　want　your　Shadowsword　right
up　front；　primed　and　ready。　If　the　orks　do　rush　out　as　expected；　you　will　pull　back　to　a　safer　distance
and　offer　fire　support　under　Major　General　Bergen’s　directions。　But　if　the　greenskins　decide　to　play
it　safe；　I　want　you　ready　to　show　them　the　Emperor’s　wrath。　Understood？”
“You　pick　the　gate；　sir；”　said　Vinnemann；　“and　my　old　girl　will　peel　it　apart。　You’ll　see。”
Bergen　felt　he　had　to　speak。　He　faced　Vinnemann；　but　his　words　were　for　deViers。　“What　the
noble　colonel　is　not　telling　you；　general；　is　that　such　a　shot　will　leave　his　tank　utterly　stationary　for
long　seconds　both　before　and　after　firing。　The　Angel　of　the　Apocalypse　will　draw　heavy　enemy　fire
during　that　time。”
Vinnemann　actually　looked　hurt；　as　if　he　thought　Bergen　was　criticising　him　and　his　tank。
“She　has　more　armour　than　any　other　machine　in　the　army　group；”　he　said　defensively。　“She　can
shrug　off　whatever　they　throw　at　us。　Besides；”　he　added　matter…of…factly；　“if　things　get　too　heavy；
we’ll　pop　smoke。”
Bergen　frowned。
“Then　it’s　decided；”　said　General　deViers；　eager　to　move　on。　With　two　fingers；　he　tapped　a　sheet
of　crumpled　parchment　he　had　laid　out　on　a　small　table　in　front　of　him。　It　was　the　map　Marrenburg’s
scout　had　drawn。　“Now　listen　carefully；　all　of　you。　We’ll　be　attacking　this　gate　here。　It’s　more
isolated　than　the　others；　which　will　give　us　more　time　to　react　to　any　flanking　manoeuvres。　I　expect
they’ll　send　troops　out　from　a　number　of　the　nearest　gates　once　we’ve　engaged。　Anyway；　this　is　our
target　and　I’m　designating　it　point　alpha。　With　the　exception　of　Colonel　Vinnemann；　all　officers
ranked　major　or　higher　will　stay　behind　this　area　here。”　With　a　finger；　he　drew　an　imaginary　line
across　the　map　where　he　believed　the　ork　artillery　would　be　unable　to　stri