There was a tension in the air. The tank stunk of engine exhaust and was incredibly loud. After the cannon had been fired, the space had filled with hot gas and smoke. Doc, having been near the high velocity gun, felt like he had got hit in the head with a bat when the echo of the firing hit him. The thing that made Doc avoid losing his orientation, get dizzy, avoid nausea and vomiting from the firing was sheer adrenaline and his focus on the screen in front of him as he tried to figure out what the signal signified.

  Despite this, the sound from the blast had for a moment drowned out all noise and risked blowing out their eardrums, leaving the three with a continuous ringing as the aftermath of the magnetically propelled molten slugs opened up a visible path. The only reason Doc had been able to register what Ivan tried to say was by reading his lips and filling in the blanks from his gesturing. Returning his focus to the screen once more, he felt that it was familiar. The rhythm of the signal felt familiar to him but he couldn’t help but scratch his head helplessly. It was like trying to remember a word that was at the tip of your tongue. So close, but so far away.

  When the ringing finally lessened and his hearing began recovering, the quiet ringing was once more replaced by the thrumming of the engine and the serious Russian chatter between Vodko and Ivan. As Doc tuned out the noises, the T-55 Tank felt relatively quiet, barring the occasional report from Ivan into his comms, who tried to make sense of whether the signals were a threat or not. Finally, the pieces fell into place. Doc recognized the pattern of the signal on his hardline array system.

  “Wait a minute. This signature-” Doc muttered before exclaiming “Im Arsch. Verdammt! I... recognize this signature. It’s... an ion storm!?”

  “Storm. Is bad.” Vodko commented.

  “Da.” Ivan leaned back in his chair and confirmed.

  “Well yes but no. Down here it is a curse and a blessing. It’s like a natural jamming phenomenon.“ Doc replied and massaged his bruised elbow that had struck the side of the turret when he dodged the breech during the firing moments earlier.

  The recoil would have killed him if he hadn’t dodged to the side and grabbed the ‘oh-shit’ handle. Being in the way of the breech would’ve been lethal. The tank shook as a massive gathering of rock and dirt shook the tank as if they’d driven slowly past a speed bump. Doc rested his chin in his hand and leaned forward, heavy in thought.

  “They can’t hear anything we or they say, unless... Gott hilf uns-.” Doc’s flustered voice trembled with the hint of a german accent.

  “What?” Ivan raised an eyebrow.

  “...Sorry, what I was going to say was; if they have an active satellite uplink, ‘in which case, god help us’. Also, we can’t coordinate with the others because the signal will overpower just about everything for conventional systems.” Doc was shaking his head and said.

  “Da, da. We say ‘idi nahui’ to the sneeki breeki and hello to cheeki breeki," Ivan reported as he once again flattened the gas pedal to the floor and swerved into the hole their railgun had opened up earlier.

  Doc furrowed his brows as if to say ‘did you ever intend to use stealth?’ his annoyance overtaking his unease for a moment. Ivan noticed his expression and spoke.

  “Ah! You see Doktor, when having flying tank, enemy not knowing to use anti-air or anti-tank. Tank will kill more enemy. No more enemy means no one can say you were there.”

  “What does that mean?” Doc asked, as trying to comprehend what he said was starting to give him a headache.

  “I don’t know. I can’t translate everything he says.” Vodko replied and shrugged.

  Time ticked by as they traveled through the sewers, first an hour, then two.. The Red Zone had been estimated to be 12 klicks north of their position, they had traveled 20. Because they often had to make adjustments to their course to avoid particularly deep crevices on their way to their destination, this was a given.

  As they traveled down the pathway, a smell of ash filled the corridor. The muffled sound of rhythmic hammers striking hot metal echoed in the distance and heat washed over the area. Sweat began to form on each of them as the three flew forwards in their tank. A tired smile formed on Doc’s face. They had finally began to cross the area of the steel mill. Doc was amazed that anything was loud enough to overpower the loud noise of the tank engine and the rattling noise of the tank treads. Every few minutes the decibels of the hammering, pouring and pressure of steam increased in intensity as the heat swept over them.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “This heat, combined with that noise. It would be pretty certain that we reached the true halfway point, Right?”

  “Da.”

  “Mein Gott, it's getting very hot in here.” Doc complained.

  As the temperature rose in the tank, a red lamp started flashing and a low volume warning started repeating. Doc groaned as he wiped off sweat from his forehead and used the driest part of his shirt to wipe off the fog from his glasses. Fog that formed from his panting in the increasingly warmer temperature.

  “What’s going on?” Vodko asked who still was wedged pretty tight in the firing position of the turret.

  “You know that railgun that you guys had me install? It was scrapped for a very good reason. It was only really functional in Finnish weather.” Doc exhaled a deep breath. “Sub-arctic temperatures.”

  “We have to get away from this area quickly before the surrounded temperature counteracts the laser cooling I activated.. right,” Doc finished typing and pressed enter. “-Now. Preferably before it explodes.”

  Doc became silent as he scanned the information on the screen in front of him. The needlessly animated statistics for the heat bounced up and down. The information didn’t add up.

  “The temperature is still too warm. Are you guys sure this is a regular steel mill?” Doc asked

  Ivan shrugged.

  “Mortality rate is about as high as for my men. I have yet to meet anyone crazy to work the two jobs.”

  The tank continued down the path uninterrupted for a couple of kilometers before the tank once more screeched to a halt.

  “Where did this wall come from? I know we’re not lost. This is the right path, I’m sure of it.” Doc complained.

  “Da. According to plan.”

  The red beeping intensified as the heat level increased.

  “Guys, we got a serious problem.”

  Ivan crawled out of the driver's seat and Doc shuffled backwards. Ivan rolled around to get his mechanical leg free from the cramped space where the pedals were and kicked at the lid of the box. Doc curious glanced into the new box. They appeared to be numerous gray soft plastic packages within.

  “Plastic explosives”

  “Wait, you’re telling me I’ve been using a box of plastic explosives as a footrest for the past few hours!?”

  “Njet, only upper part of box is plastic explosives” Ivan interjected as he stood up and began to open a hatch closest to him.

  “W- that’s what you focus on?”

  “Is no worry, need powerful shockwave to set off.”

  “That.” Doc pointed at the breech of the cannon less than half a meter above the box. “That creates a powerful shockwave.”

  Ivan’s gaze followed the direction at what he was pointing at.

  “Da,” he replied and crawled out of the turret and strapped the plastic explosives on to the wall to the right of the wall they had to pass through.

  After attaching a timer, Ivan sprinted, threw himself into the tank, landed on Doc and closed the hatch shut. The explosion rippled through the water main, flooding the passageway monetarily with a large wave of cold water. The cold temperature rapidly made the tank sink in temperature with a comforting ‘pssh’.

  “Quick thinking, but that wall is still made of concrete and steel. We can’t ram it. Ideas?”

  “Fire?” Ivan guessed.

  “Firing at this time would promote every passenger of this unstoppable train of thought into a conductor. It would effectively turn this tank into a defibrillator.”

  “What?”

  “Imagine taking a bath while holding a toaster plugged into a socket by a large extension cord. Firing the cannon now would be suicide.”

  “Blyat.”

  “Now’s the time for some out of the box thinking.” Doc said as he looked into the box.

  The only remaining contents left in the box was a large black box made out what appeared to be lead, judging from the sheen and weight alone. Next to it were two books, a german book with faded writing on the front cover as well as a hefty code book that resembled an old yellow pages phone book you’d occasionally see if you visited a few British museums.

  “-and I mean that both figuratively and literally.”

  Ivan’s eyes lit up.

  “I have glorious idea.”