Читать книгу Trial By Fire - Don Pendleton - Страница 11

“You buried him with a grenade.” Rudipu lowered Bolan’s binoculars. “A Willie Pete?”

“I asked him if he wanted to be buried, cremated or left for the enemy. Llewellyn chose all of the above.”

“Where was it?”

“He was keeping it under his hat. I kept it under mine, too. I didn’t want any arguments. It was his decision.”

“I understand, Sarge.” The cadet raised Bolan’s laser range-finding binoculars once more and watched the milling revolutionaries. They had stopped after the grenade detonation and were having some kind of late-afternoon powwow and boiling a caldron of rice. Rude didn’t want to think about what they were having for an entrée. “I count at least thirty. More seem to be arriving. So, should we…?”

“Thin them out a bit?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Range me.”

“What?”