Part 17 (2/2)
The gren sailed through the air almost in slow motion. Using a gren in such a confined area was a risk. A quick enough reflex could pick it up and toss it back into the car before it went off, leaving the inhabitants of the car entirely at the mercy of shrapnel in the explosive charge.
The one thing he hadn't bargained for was what happened next. Instead of trying to clear the gren, someone in the defending party thought it would be a great idea to shoot it out of the air.
A laser blast ripped through the empty s.p.a.ce between the elevator car and the concealed position of the defense force. Unfortunately for the sec man who chose to fire, it took him too long to level his laser rifle and take aim. So long, in fact, that by the time the laser blast reached the gren it was already too close to the defense nest. The laser hit the gren full on and caused it to explode before the fuse had expired. The shrapnel within the explosive charge was charged white hot and molten by the extra heat of the laser as it hit home, and the resulting shower and spray of semisolid, semiliquid metal, spread out over a wide arc by the explosive charge, came down on the defense force.
It could have been worse for them, but not by much. The defense post was situated behind a support pillar, like any of those that were built into the corridors of a standard redoubt to support the circular structure of the tunnels. It wasn't wide enough to shelter the full complement of the party, and so a makes.h.i.+ft barrier against standard blasterfire had been built up from old sandbags that were usually used to sh.o.r.e up those parts of the redoubt that hadn't been properly finished before the nukecaust and so were p.r.o.ne to leakage from the earth beyond the walls. The material encasing the sand was porous and fibrous, and the shower of hot metal set fire to the thin covering. Although the sand underneath would rapidly extinguish the fire, it wouldn't do it quickly enough to stop the spread of the flames onto the one-piece uniforms of the sec crew.
Originally all the suits worn by the Illuminated Ones had been coated with a fire-resistant chemical that was a safety measure. Unfortunately for the sec force right there and then, the coating had worn over the years, leaving the artificial fibers of the suits p.r.o.ne to catch fire at the slightest spark.
The cries of the sec men hit by the molten shrapnel, or suddenly finding themselves on fire, acted as the spur Ryan needed.
”Now!” the one-eyed warrior roared before stepping into the middle of the elevator car, Steyr raised and finger flexed on the trigger. It was then that he exclaimed as he saw the devastation outside.
The triumphant Gate warriors didn't stop to question the poor tactics and spontaneous idiocy that had led to the sec force ruining their own sec post. They rushed past the startled Ryan, leaving him-for once-lagging a split second in the wake of his fellow warriors as they blasted those Illuminated Ones who were still able to raise their laser blasters.
It crossed Ryan's mind that if it was to be this easy, there had to be a catch somewhere. Fate never made anything this simple without some kind of payback.
THE DIMLY LIT STAIRWELL was empty, and echoed even to the soft footfalls of the attacking party.
”They have to be beyond the lower level door,” J.B. murmured as quietly as he could to those behind him. ”The one way to do this is to trigger the sec door and then fan out two at a time, heads down, with those at the rear providing covering fire.”
There was a general murmur of agreement from those behind him, and the Armorer continued down, a step at a time, until he reached the final bend before the first-level sec door. The lights below had been either shot out or had burned out over the years-all of them. Something twitched inside J.B.'s gut, and he stopped the party's progress with an outstretched arm. For all the lights to be gone at such a crucial spot was a little too much of a coincidence for his liking, a growing suspicion that was enhanced when, after everyone had stopped, the sudden lack of footfalls in the shaft made whoever was waiting get a little too daring.
To the Armorer's amazement, the glint of a laser blaster cut through the darkness, the leaking light from the upper level of the stairwell catching on the metal of the barrel for a fraction of a second.
They were actually waiting on the stairwell, at a point where they would have to come into the open to attack, and from below. It crossed the Armorer's mind that the rad-blasted children of pox-ridden gaudies would have had more sense than that, but he wasn't about to let a golden opportunity to get the enemy pa.s.s him by.
J.B. raised his Uzi and without a word of warning to the Gate people behind him let fly with a stream of blasterfire that raked the darkness below. Because of the bend in the stairwell, he judged that it would be harder for the sec force below to fire back from seclusion than it would be for his attackers. J.B. could rake a wide field of fire with the Uzi, and also use the concrete walls to ricochet sh.e.l.ls into the angle beyond the line of fire. He couldn't shoot with accuracy, but that wasn't necessary. It would cause confusion and retreat, and that was enough at this stage. For the one thing that immediately sprang to his steel trap of a mind was this: the laser blasters could only fire straight, and if they hit the concrete walls surrounding his party, then they would score the walls with their laser heat, but they couldn't ricochet. As long as his people stayed back and out of direct line, there was nothing the sec force could do except step out directly into the line of fire to get at them.
The Amazon warriors behind J.B. didn't need to be told what was going on. Seeing the way in which he angled part of firing sweep, two of them used their blasters to try to ricochet off the walls. The others held back as the line of firing would be too crowded, and would necessitate their coming out into the open. They could hear cries of pain from below as blasterfire bit home.
The area below was suddenly lit as the sec door to the first level was keyed open, and light from the corridor beyond filtered into the darkness.
”Hold fire,” J.B. cried, ceasing his own efforts. The echoes of the bullets died away, and the attacking party could hear the sounds of a hurried retreat into the corridor below, along with the moans of those members of the attacking party who hadn't been chilled, but had been wounded enough to necessitate their companions dragging them to safety.
”Forward-triple red,” J.B. commanded. ”They may have time to get into a defensive position, so tactics as before, but hit the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds hard. With luck they'll be right open.”
THE SERVICE HATCH into the corridor was cobwebbed on the inside, the dust motes reflected in the beam of artificial light that bled through the grille and into the narrow duct where Jak was crouched, almost bent double.
On the other side of the hatch lay a corridor that should, if his sense of direction was as good as he believed, be on the first level of the redoubt. The tortuous climb down the shafts and the blind gropings in the direction of the airflow had led them to a point where the concrete of the walls had been replaced by smoothly riveted metal. Tight, but of a questionable thickness, the rivets had given way quite easily under pressure and a few well-placed kicks from Jak's heavy combat boots. Having made it thus far with little noise, it seemed almost absurd to then create such a loud disturbance. However, there was no option, and at least they were now in the final leg of the journey. By the time any noise was detected, located, and forces sent to intercept, they should be out into the open and ready to fight.
It was a notion that didn't bear too much examination, but so far it was holding up.
Jak looked through the grille onto the corridor outside, twisting his neck until the muscles screamed at him for relief, trying to wring every last degree of turn and view out of the restricted window.
The corridor was empty. And quiet.
Could it be that their breakthrough had been undetected? Jak sniffed at the air, trying to separate the scents that drifted through the grille. There was no fear, no sweat that was fresh. No smell of oil or cordite, no smell of tingling ozone, which he'd noticed faintly after the laser blasters had been fired. And the sound: there was quiet and there was silence.
Jak's ears were those of a highly attuned hunter, and his sense of sound was heightened by the compensation for the lack of pigment and oversensitivity of his albino eyes. They were ears that could hear the scuttle of a c.o.c.kroach at a hundred yards, and pinpoint its direction.
There was something; not near, not yet, but moving his way. Whether to intercept them or by chance he couldn't tell. That didn't matter. He judged they had time to get out of the duct and into the corridor.
He spoke as he began to probe the edges of the duct with busy fingers, information gathering on its strong and weak points.
”Corridor empty, but sec on way. From quarter mile at double speed. If can get this f.u.c.ker...”
As he spoke, his fingers found the nuts that secured the grille on the inside to metal brackets. They weren't set exactly in the corners, but indented slightly. The nuts were loose, the screws oxidized over the years by air that was more contaminated than the redoubt's designers would have wished.
Strong white fingers gripped the nuts, taking two at a time. The tension and power in his grip made what little color there was in his skin bleed out at the knuckle joints, so that in the dust-moted beam his fingers seemed to glow incandescent. Under such pressure, the nuts gave easily, and Jak shuffled back, kicking at the grille with a force muted by the constrictions of s.p.a.ce. He hoped that the screws securing the outer part of the grille were also in such poor condition.
The grille crashed to the floor, and Jak propelled himself forward and out onto the corridor floor, snaking upright with a grace and ease that made of it one sinuous movement. The Gate warriors in his party followed, each of them displaying the same grace and ease of movement, belying the strain of being cramped in the shafts for so long.
”Sec from down there,” Jak said tersely, indicating the corridor leading off to a T-junction on the left. ”We take these pillars as cover. Sound like just running-hit f.u.c.kers hard.”
With only the briefest of acknowledgments and the maximum of speed, the Amazons joined the albino in taking cover behind the pillars, the same tactic used by the sec force itself in the detachment that, at that moment, was being decimated by Ryan and Gloria's war party.
”This too easy,” Jak breathed, almost to himself. It was part triumph and part disbelief, a sense that something had to surely go wrong. If not in battle, then in their ultimate aim. For a split second, the mat-trans dream that had seemed to spark off this whole sequence of events went through his head. His friends chilled, and Gloria walking off in another direction. Could that have some meaning, some hidden truth? Jak was a simple man in that way. He didn't deal in symbols. But nonetheless, something could screw up, now that they were so close to what both parties wanted so badly.
He shook his head to clear it and focused instead on the sound of running feet as they came toward him. He could even hear the heavy breathing of the running sec force, unused to such exertion.
In a flash, he could see that was their problem: no real combat, probably in their lifetime. No wonder progress was so easy. He smiled, lips drawn back over his sharp white teeth, his hunting and predatory instincts taking the foreground.
”Ready to chill,” he whispered to the Amazons. He could feel them around him, their instincts also heightened. The air was full of the scent of the hunter, discernible only to those who were born to chill.
He raised his Colt Python, clicked back the hammer, his finger taut on the trigger, ready to apply pressure at just the right time. He was hidden from the junction by the pillar, and as the sec force rounded the corner, he let them advance a few yards into the corridor, so that the rear of the party, which, at a quick head count, revealed twelve in a loose formation of threes, was around the angle of the junction and unable to duck back easily. Without even bothering to give instruction, he knew that the Amazons would also sense the best tactic and hold their fire until the last sec man was clear.
Jak cleared the pillar enough to raise and sight his blaster. A scream of pent up fury escaped his lips and rent the air as the first shot boomed from the Magnum blaster. It hit the middle sec man in the front row full in the chest, leaving a bloodied and ribboned mess of flesh and bone where an orange one-piece suit had once been. The man jerked back, his own forward, running momentum countered by the superior momentum and force of the slug.
Around the albino the sound of fire from the Amazon's handblasters rent the air, a volley of continuous explosions that filled the air with the bitter smell of cordite.
It was over in a matter of seconds. The entire sec party was wiped out without a returned shot of any kind. Like pins in a bowling alley knocked out by a ball of infinitely greater force than they could imagine, the sec team had been taken by surprise and their reaction time found wanting.
And this was no exercise.
Jak skipped over the chilled bodies, checking that none was alive, and also to see if any had a conventional blaster that he could use to augment the Gate's own weaponry.
There were only the laser blasters, and Jak gave a sharp glare at one of the Amazons who followed him and picked up one of the rifles.
”Margia's got some, and she reckons they could be okay,” the small blond warrior said to him. She had short, spa.r.s.e hair framing large eyes that were questioning even as she spoke. Jak had trained with her and knew she would accept his word.
”No, Cat, not in real firelight. Seen it, can't trust it. Better with what know right now, with what reliable.” He patted the Colt Python that he still held.
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