The Savage Horde

Chapter 24

Colonel Nehemiah Rozhdestvenskiy picked up one of the rifles at random. There were dozens ranked along the wall, more still in crates. He personally liked the M-—not as well as the Kalashnikov pattern rifles, but liked it nonetheless.

And for the coming situation, American-made arms would be the best choice. He turned to the junior officer beside him—a Captain Revnik. "Captain—you must see to it that each of these rifles is thoroughly inspected. There is no use in storing arms which are defective. Any rifles which prove defective must be detail stripped and the defective part found, discarded or repaired and the rest of the parts binned according to type for use as spares."

"Yes, Comrade colonel," Revnik beamed. Rozhdestvenskiy disliked too much enthusiasm. "And the same with the pistols, Comrade colonel?"

' 'Yes—but only the . automatics—the Smith & Wesson revolvers will not be inventoried since there is no need to house . Special ammunition as well as .. One standard pistol will suit our needs more than adequately. And of course each officer will have his own individual weapon." He patted the Colt Single Action Army under his uniform tunic.

"There must be adequate supplies for all needs, but most especially for the weapons—the individual weapons. For the five thousand M-s we will need there must be

five million rounds of .mm military ball ammo—loaded in the eight hundred round steel containers will be best. These can then be sealed with wax as I've outlined in the master plans for the Womb. One million rounds of the . ACP

ammunition for the one thousand pistols-This can be packed in greater bulk and likewise sealed. I'd suggest metal oil drums perhaps and the original boxes—again, all military ball ammunition,"

"Yes, Comrade colonel."

Rozhdestvenskiy nodded, stepping away from the wall where the rifles leaned and towara the catwalk. He looked below him—men moving equipment—portable generators, arc lights. More men—crates being unloaded from large trucks onto smaller trucks which could be rolled directly aboard the waiting C-s on the airfield two miles away.

"Work goes apace," he commented, leaning on the catwalk railing, swinging his body weight back and forth, feeling what he saw, feeling the power surging up in his blood. "But the pace must be quickened. If all the items are not secured in the Womb in a very, very short period of time, captain—all will have been for naught."

"Yes, Comrade colonel—Comrade?"

"Yes, captain?"

"May I ask, Comrade colonel—why is this being—"

Rozhdestvenskiy felt his smile fade. "The survival of the race, Comrade—the survival of the race."

Rozhdestvenskiy said no more.