The gunner's gloves were too big. The seal on his mask was bad. His elbow shook against the tank pressure.
No miracle here.
Just parts that broke like any other.
The bikes cleared the choke. The first pickup climbed the crown. Its left-side tires rode true on the seam. Three seconds later, the right-side tires followed.
The leak flexed.
Lachlan felt the flex in his teeth.
"Zubair, they're on it," he reported. "Your call."
"Wait," Zubair answered. Not a test. Just a choice.
Elias came through, smooth as glass. "Wind steady. Spill stable. Ready when you are."
Another pair of bikes slid into the seam and handed it their weight. The flatbed crawled up behind, cage bolts bright where someone had replaced them recently.
Lachlan could feel the current now without moving. It ran under the rock. It ran under the trucks. It ran under his skin and into the ground and came back to him like a second pulse trying to be the first.
Take it. Make it yours.
