“How is that little pea shooter going to make a whit of difference, mate? That’s what I want to know. I mean, compared to our gun, that’s practically nothing.”

Rip smiled but did not look down at the soldier driving the lead tank. Right now, he stood on top of the vehicle, near the cannon turret, aiming his Webley at the two advancing robots.

“Ever heard of enhanced ammunition?”

“What’s that? No, mate. Never heard of such a thing. I knew they enhance people, those crazy boffins. But I’ve never heard of enhanced ammunition.”

“Well, it’s one of the few things that can penetrate enhanced metal. Although, at the 45 caliber level, I can only dent the armor on those guys. But, I can pop out their eyes. If they get their hands out of the way, that is.”

He frowned at the bots, who had seen him. They both advanced with one hand in front of their faces.

“Somebody must have programmed that in.”

“What’s that, mate?”

“Never mind. Shell them again, and I’ll try to hit them after they get knocked down.”

“Right. Hold on, mate. You’re going to want these.”

The driver tossed him some leather earmuffs. Rip caught them in the air, smiled his thanks, and put them over his head. Then he stepped off to the side on the large flat top, moving as far from the cannon as he could. He crouched down to grab hold of one of the handles on top of the tank, and held his other hand on the earmuff closest to the turret.

The gunman inside hand cranked the turret a couple notches, lining up another shot. Then the big cannon belched out a shell. A second later it blew up in the middle of both bots, knocking them down again like bowling pins.

A wave of heated air swept over the tank.

They have almost gotten too close, Rip thought.

He stood then, and lined up a shot carefully. The first bot sat up, and turned its head toward the tank. Rip fired, popping out an eye.

The robot stood up, moving remarkably fast for all its size, and immediately shielded its face. Rip turned to the other one, but it was already standing, also with a protective hand up.

“Knock them one more time.”

“Right. But I must say, we can’t aim the big gun much lower.”

“You’ll just need to do it one more time after this. Back up if you have to, or have one of the tanks behind us fire.”

The driver grimaced, but said nothing as the gunman lined up another shot.

This time when the bots went down they finally saw something give in the one Rip had shot. Smoke leaked out of the broken eye, even after the other smoke from the shell cleared away.

“He’s out.”

Rip carefully lined up another shot on the second bot, but it faced away this time.

He waited patiently. They were very close now. Slowly, the robot’s head turned to look up in the night sky. Rip waited for the machine to face him directly.

It sat up, still perpendicular from the tank. It started to rise, and its hand went up.

Rip frowned.

Now or never, I guess.

He squeezed off a round, but it landed low, an inch below the eye. The resounding ping echoed across the street as the bullet bounced off.

The bot brought its hand up while standing. Just before it came into position to block the shot, Rip aimed one last time. He faced the eye at an angle, and could only see sliver of the full circle, but his [Weaponry] skill remained one of his highest.

He held his breath and squeezed the trigger . . . and the right corner of the eye blew out just before the bot’s hand came into place to block it.

It wasn’t a big hole, but the bullet penetrated.

That’ll have to do.

“Fire again.”

“You heard the man!”

The tank’s cannon roared one more time and a final shell slammed into the bot with percussive force, this time blowing it off its feet even before it could stand up straight.

It fell on its back, arms spread wide. Everyone watched with baited breath as the smoke cleared.

The driver said, “I don’t see smoke coming out of this one’s head, Sergeant.”

Absently, Rip noted this was the first time the man had addressed him by rank.

The machine’s head tilted up.

Rip fired yet another round, but the robot’s hand sprang up in time, as if expecting it. The bullet zinged off into the darkness.

It stood, protecting its face, and ran for the tank.

The men inside blurted out curses. Rip heard them feed a fresh round into the cannon.

“He’s too close! Don’t fire! Back up, back up!”

The driver pulled back on both control sticks and the engine belched out a huge cloud of smoke. The treads slowly clanked backward, and the huge machine pulled itself away, but the robot moved faster.

When it came within thirty feet, the machinegunner let loose with the big 9-50 up front, but the heavy rounds just bounced off.

Rip aimed at the eyes and fired again, but the enhanced bullet ricocheted off the upraised hand.

The robot slammed into the tank with loud bang of metal on metal on metal, making the vehicle lurch backward. Rip lost his handhold and went over the side.

It slammed fists into the front of the tank, again and again, punching deep dents into the mundane metal.

The driver, a look of horror plastered on his face, increased the throttle and tried to pull away, but the bot stayed with tank, slamming punch after punch after punch.

Then it reached down and lifted, pulling the front half of the machine off the ground.

The men inside screamed.