Lion, Tiger, Bear |H5 gun completely off the chassis in pieces, the explosion severe enough that Bea and the men could feel it in their chests. Suddenly she felt like a Shieldmaiden warrior again, eyes alight with blood lust. Holy alleycats.. .Gwafa, turn left. Takuta held his ears as he looked out the vision slit. Jesus! I felt that one. From a hidden position, another antitank gun fired; furious Germans and Italians from rooftops and back alleys swarmed their tank with smoke grenades, trying to blind them and ignite the notoriously leaky fuel lines with wine bottle Molotov cocktails. One German threw a wire-tied, six-grenade bundle at the tracks, blowing off a road wheel. Gwafa weaved the tank back and forth in a jerking fashion. Where should I gowhere, madame’? Allo? Were surrounded, mum! panicked Takuta, peering out the right side slit. Smoke grenades? Do it! Takuta pulled the trigger and five smoke grenades popped out of the top canister, filling the area with thick smoke. Germans fell back. In the lightning-fast intensity of battle, Beas over-stressed mind eased and she lost vision. Hearing Turkish music echo, she saw in her minds eye the wondrous Sufi and Sarmoun Whirling Dervishes dancing in counter-rotation, a high-performance meditation, a two-way communication with the cosmoss all-knowing, all-loving Universal Consciousness. A slow-motion Dervish stopped on a penny; it was George Gurdjieff the mystic wearing white robes and a tall conical fez of scarlet, his piercing eyes ablaze; he pitched a vase of pink roses to the floor, the glass shards flew asunder. He pointed an ornamental curved sword at her face and yelled: Love and forgive, but defend thyself from darkness! It was all over in a split atom of time. Takuta, fra-a-a^ Bea furiously twirled the barrel lever, depressing the barrel as far as it would go. On the move, she fired the gun point-blank at the ground. A huge explosion right in front of them sent a shock wave and bloomed shrapnel bits everywhere, killing and wounding all troops close by; some caught fire from their shattered hand held cocktails, screaming. Gwafa, spin on your axis, dont let them put one up our arse. Can you manage the bow gun? Yes! He cranked the steering wheel all the way left with his left foot, wood stick jammed on the accelerator, his right hand just reaching the trigger under the radios.