He'd never realized how much he had missed his old teammates until he had seen them again. Of course, now Blue Team was in jeopardy, but that seemed like old times as well. He couldn't have asked for better soldiers to be in trouble with.
He ran across the field, low and silent, and then jumped into the shaded hollow. Tom, Ash, and Mendez crouched next to Kelly, Linda, and Fred. They whispered to one another and drew plans in the dirt.
Lucy sat quietly next to Dr. Halsey, who glanced at Kurt and then went back to her laptop computer, examining Forerunner glyphs.
The other SPARTAN-IIIs were missing, presumably on watch.
"Glad you made it back in one piece," Chief Mendez said, and gave him an abbreviated salute. "Almost had me worried."
"Thanks, Chief. Set up a single-beam relay outside and hail the others on patrol."
"Yes, sir." Mendez grabbed a tiny antenna dish.
Linda, Kelly, and Fred all turned to Mendez when he said "sir" and then looked at Kurt.
Kurt flicked his index finger up, the wait-a-second gesture, and then he turned to Ash.
"Private."
"Sir," Ash said, and stood straighter.
His helmet was off. Sweat glistened on his head and neck. It was a serious breach of combat protocols, but SPI suits had never been designed for extended use, and Team Saber had to have been sweltering in the stuff for days.
Kurt glanced at the helmet and Ash blanched at his mistake, and immediately slipped it on.
Kurt said, "Saber jumped the gun on that ambush."
"Yes, sir." Ash snapped into precise regulation attention. "It was my fault. I felt it was the right time, that the Sentinels were about to move out of optimal firing position. That's no excuse, sir. It won't happen again."
Had Ash sensed something Kurt hadn't? Still, orders had to be followed.
"I'm counting on you to keep your team on task and focused. We clear?"
"Absolutely clear, sir," Ash replied.
Kurt then moved closer to Blue Team.
Fred set a hand on Kurt's shoulder, a rare gesture among Spartans. It spoke volumes in the language of the Spartan's tightly restrained emotions.
"We thought you were dead," Fred whispered.
Kurt clapped Fred on his shoulder as well. "There's so much to brief you on. The Sentinels, the SPARTAN-IIIs—everything."
Mendez stepped back into the shadows. "Single-beam linkup established, sir."
"… Which will have to wait a little longer," Kurt told them.
Kurt opened up his TEAMCOM to both Blue and Saber, "We're taking out that Sentinel pair before the next phase of this operation," he said. "Ash, take Saber and scout the ravine ahead. Find that tunnel you sacked in a few days ago. Dante will rig it with two satchel charges. We'll lure the Sentinels inside and then, since we can't penetrate their shields, we'll blow the place, and bury them."
Fred, Linda, and Kelly exchanged looks. Normally Fred gave orders for Blue Team.
Fred gave his team an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
"What about the overwatch?" Fred asked.
"We'll take our best shot at range," Kurt replied. "Hit it with two SPNKr missiles, which will hopefully weaken its shield enough for Linda to penetrate with a few shots."
"What range?" Linda asked.
"They never get closer than two kilometers," Kurt said.
It wasn't an impossible shot. But given variable winds, a moving target, and trying to combine fire with missile strikes… it would be highly improbable. Still, Kurt had to try something to get one step ahead of the enemy Linda considered a moment, then replied, "I have an eighty-three percent accuracy rating at that range."
"Okay," Kurt told Ash, "go. Tom, Lucy, back Saber up, then grab a pair of SPNKr launchers and rendezvous with SPARTAN-058."
His senior NCOs and Ash stood, nodded, and eased out of the hollow.
Kurt got green status light across his display. He shut down the linked single-beam network.
After the SPARTAN-IIIs had left, Kelly said, "Those kids are going to get us killed.
They're acting like they have something to prove. We could have taken those Sentinels earlier if they fol-lowed the firing order."
Kurt bristled at her words. Team Saber were his soldiers and every one of their flaws was his fault. His anger cooled as quickly as it had come. She was right.
In an even voice he told her, "They're not 'kids.' They're Spartans."
Kelly crossed her arms.
Mendez said, "I think, sir, you might want to tell them what we've accomplished here."
Kurt nodded and then explained much of the SPARTAN-III training program, and the creation of Companies Alpha, Beta, and the newly minted Gamma.
"Some of the bioaugmentations are new," Kurt explained. "The SPARTAN-IIIs' normal aggression response has been"—he searched for the right word—"enhanced in situations of extreme stress. It gives them incredible reserves of endurance and makes them near impervious to shock."
"Is that what's making them twitchy?" Kelly groused.
"No one's twitchy," he replied, then fell silent.
Kurt knew he was wrong. Why couldn't he admit it? Was he defensive because he wanted his Spartans to be everything the older Spartans were? Fred, Kelly, and Linda had decades of field experience. As the SPARTAN-III CO he had to stay objective.
"You're right," Kurt said softly. "They are twitchy. And green. What else could they be?
Fresh out of boot and thrown up against these Sentinels." He looked to Kelly, to Fred, and then to Linda. "I need your help to make sure they stay in line… and, if possible, survive this."
Linda and Fred slowly nodded.
"Sure thing," Kelly said, uncrossing her arms.
Dr. Halsey looked up from her computer. "I'd like to discuss this 'aggression enhancement,'" she said. "In fact, I have many questions about the SPARTAN-III program, like where is the rest of Gamma Company? And Beta? Or Alpha?"
"Your questions will have to wait, Doctor," Kurt replied. "We're running out of time. Lord Hood's reinforcements may not get here. Every engagement with the Sentinels teaches them more. Soon we won't be able to stop them."
"I must insist," Dr. Halsey said. Her words were as placid as smooth water, but her steely eyes bored through Kurt's helmet.
Fred stepped closer to Kurt. "I agree with Kurt, ma'am. And if I might point out, with all due respect, you are not in any position to demand anything in this tactical situation— especially after you kidnapped Kelly, circumvented the chain of command, and left us in the middle of a critical mission on the Gettysburg."
Kelly looked between them, caught in a conflicting web of loyalties.
Dr. Halsey stood. "I have already explained my actions," she said. "And the discovery of this new Forerunner technology should outweigh any so-called breach of military protocol that may have been committed."
A frosty silence filled the hollow.
Dr. Halsey had no official rank, but had always wielded considerable influence over her Spartans.
That had to end.
Kurt valued her scientific expertise and intellect, but he couldn't have her issuing confusing or conflicting orders.
"Since you mention protocol…" Kurt deliberately turned his back to her and faced Blue Team. "1 want to clarify our chain of command. I understand Lord Hood gave you command of this mission," he said to Fred. "But I'm in charge of all USNC personnel on Onyx."
Kurt activated his friend-or-foe electronic tag, on extreme low power—just enough so they'd pick it up. On their displays appeared his green color-coded military ID number as well as the bars and star insignia of a UNSC lieutenant commander.
The Spartans straightened, their involuntary response when in the presence of an officer.
"I am therefore assuming command of this mission," Kurt said.
No one said a word for a moment… and then Fred snapped off, "Yes, sir."
Something was different in Fred's voice. A bit of the familiar-ity was missing, but there was something else: respect.
Kurt gave Blue Team a quick nod, and then turned to Dr. Halsey. "Ma'am, I want you to continue your analysis of the Zone 67 documents on the Forerunners. I expect an update on your progress in two hours."
Dr. Halsey arched an eyebrow. She said nothing and slowly sat down, returning to her computer.
Kurt inwardly sighed. That was one battle won today.
Olivia's green status light flashed twice—the signal for "friendly approaching."
A ripple crossed the entrance to the hollow, part shadow, part rock, and then the SPI camouflage resolved into Olivia. "Sentinel pair," she whispered. "Half a kilometer south, sir.
Moving this direction in a search pattern."
Kurt said, "Everyone, get ready to move out. Kelly, limber up; you're our rabbit."
"Happy to oblige, sir." She made the two-fingered signal over her faceplate, the traditional Spartan smile.
The others nodded.
Kurt knew they'd follow him, into battle, and right to the gates of hell if he ordered it. He had a feeling it might come to that.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
1810 HOURS, NOVEMBER 3, 2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ ZETA DORADUS SYSTEM, PLANET ONYX \ NEAR RESTRICTED REGION ZONE 67
Kurt had seen snipers zero their instruments before, but never for an extreme-range, near-vertical target.
Linda took the task as seriously as a surgeon preparing for a heart transplant. She cleared a patch of rocky ground and laid out a camo mat so dust wouldn't foul her SRS99C- S2 AM rifle. Next she opened a kit that contained tools, bottles of cleaner and lubricant, several magazines for her rifle, a box of 14.5x114mm ammunition, and a tiny datapad. She selected one of the magazines and inspected it; satisfied, she opened the box of ammo and removed one of the rounds: super-hardened red polymer petals surrounded a finned tungsten dart. She spun it around and looked at the cartridge base. Opposite the legend "51"
it bore the winged hourglass headstamp flanked by double "X"s—signifying that it was hand-loaded match-grade ammo from Misrah Armories on Mars. She slid the magazine into the rifle.
Next she linked her Oracle scope to the datapad and made microcalibrations. She finally sat, butted the rifle to her shoulder, and then leaned back flat and sighted up at the sky.
"Ready," she said over single-beam COM. Her voice was detached and trancelike.
"Eyes sharp," Kurt told everyone.
The Spartans had moved from the rendezvous hollow to the high ground among broken canyons and mesas where Team Saber had first encountered the Sentinels. Kurt had them spread out along both sides of the valley.
Kelly stood in a gravel wash in the center of the valley and scanned the horizon, waiting for the double Sentinel to spot her. The sun was high and her shadow was a wavering spot at her feet.
For someone who was bait, she looked perfectly at ease.
The tunnel where Dante had rigged the opening and exit with charges was a quarter kilometer away from her position. Just far enough.
The tricky part of this plan would be to get the Sentinel pair into the tunnel, instead of staying high and blasting Kelly while she was inside. Would they continue their "game" of cat and mouse, or was the data-collection phase of their operation over?
Either way, Kurt had placed his friend in grave danger.
Kelly looked up to Kurt's position and activated her single beam. "I see it," she said. "Two khcks away. I'm going to tap its shoulder."
"Go, Blue Two," he said. "Keep your head."
Kurt held up a hand, made a fist, and pumped it twice—the "get ready" signal for the rest of the team.
Kelly took a shot at the drone pair with her MAB5—an impossible target with an assault rifle, but it wasn't meant to hit, just to get the thing's attention.
The Sentinel turned to the report of gunfire and accelerated toward her.
Will reported over single beam: "Overwatch spotted, eleven o'clock, elevation twenty-four hundred meters. Wind is three knots from the northwest."
Kurt relayed this to Linda.
Her status light wavered amber as she made a slight adjustment in her position, angling her rifle up, and then frozen. On either side, Tom and Lucy hefted missile launchers, waiting for her order to fire.
Meanwhile, the combined Sentinel pair plunged toward Kelly.
She stood there, watching it.
Holly moved close to Kurt, her assault rifle uselessly aimed at the incoming drone. "Is she fast enough?"
"Kelly's the fastest Spartan," Kurt whispered.
That didn't answer her question, though: was she fast enough. Kurt didn't know.
The Sentinel pair was half a kilometer away. One of the spheres heated and light flashed.
Kelly took three sidesteps as the ground where she had been standing vaporized.
Globules of molten rock spattered off her MJOLNIR armor's energy shield.
She made an ancient and arcane gesture at the machine with one finger.
Mark joined Holly and Kurt. "No way," he breathed.
Kelly turned and ran, leaving a plume of dust in her wake.
The diving Sentinels accelerated to two hundred kilometers an hour. A golden lance flashed from its center of mass— detonating the earth under her feet.
Kelly tucked into a ball, tumbled, and came up running without breaking stride.
She sprinted straight into the tunnel.
The Sentinels' hexagonal geometry fluttered along its drive trajectory. A mere five meters over the gravel wash and screaming toward the tunnel—it had no time to pull up.
It chased her down the hole.
Kelly appeared silhouetted at the mouth, golden illumination blazing behind her— —and the tunnel exploded.
Cones of fire shot out both ends. The superheated overpressure wave blurred the image of Kelly as she was propelled through the air, end over end.
The hill collapsed, and a hundred tons of earth crushed the Sentinel pair. Sand, stone, and dust blasted out in feathery jets.
Kelly's body impacted a rock wall, and fell limp to the gravel wash.
Kurt signaled Team Saber to get down there and help. He wanted to rush to her side as well, but he had to stay here and ensure the long-shot part of their operation succeeded. Or, failing that, devise a retreat.