The Longest Day (I)

Sindula pressed his forehead against the cold metal.

He closed his eyes, trying to ease his headache by pressing his skin against the edge of the turret hatch.

He could hear voices coming from somewhere outside the tank, growing louder and louder.

He ignored them.

Many crewmen disliked staying inside their tanks for too long, but Sindula found his tank more comfortable and secure. The Shield Guard heavy tank was immensely reassuring, both inside and out.

He had named her "Silence," after a battle he was no longer sure anyone remembered.

Whether the engine was running or, like now, shut down, he liked being inside her.

This was his kingdom. Everything here was in perfect order.

When his head hurt, this was where he wanted to be.

The voices grew louder, angry words drifting into the tank through the open hatch above him.

Not now!

He cursed inwardly. Not when his headache was pounding like a drum.

He exhaled and did his best to ignore the voices.

"You have to pay."

A woman spoke in a high voice, with more than a hint of complaint.

He recognized the voice, of course.

"I can't pay—"

Another voice said. Male, nasal, and pleading.

"I really can't pay, look—"

The voice was abruptly cut off.

"And, Lieutenant, sir."

The woman spoke again, and Sindula could hear how much she was enjoying this.

"You brought this on yourself. Try saying you can't pay one more time."

Another voice rang out, male and roaring like waves smashing against cliffside rocks, but it was too low for Sindula to make out.

It did not matter. He did not need to hear what the man said to know what he was doing.

The big driver was doing manual labor, naturally.

Soon, a somewhat stammering scream came through