Harnack, Kydd, and members of the second squad were in possession of the first saber. The vehicle sat on big, knobby tires, and was large enough to haul four armored soldiers, but not much more. They had a gauss cannon trained on the door to the train station and were using it to keep Vanderspool and his resocialized marines penned up inside.
Raynor was at the wheel of the second saber waiting for Tychus and several other men who were clambering in. Zander arrived and shed his badly damaged hardskin before making for the third saber. He took the wheel as Ward sat down beside him.
There was a screech of tires as Harnack took off.
Raynor was right behind him, with Tychus riding shotgun, and a ranger on the saber’s gauss cannon.
As Harnack prepared to turn right onto the street that led to the starport, a shriek sounded as a shell passed over their heads and landed to the north of them. The resulting explosion sent a column of debris surging into the air and shattered windows all around. It was Kydd who identified the nature of the threat and let the rest of them know where the shell had come from. “Kel-Morian sloths! Two of them! To the south!”
Raynor swore as he braked, skidded into the intersection, and turned his head to the left. That was when he saw two slab-sided sloths, as well as a mob of unarmored Kel-Morians sent to support them. Had the sloths been dispatched to cut them off from the starport? Yes, given where the shells were landing, that appeared to be the case.
“Go for them,” Tychus ordered grimly. “Those cannons will be useless once we get in close.”
Raynor wasn’t so sure about that, since the rippers had been sent to prevent such a move, but gunned the engine anyway and sent the saber racing forward. One of the men in back was firing the gauss cannon by that time. The weapon was useless against the sloths but extremely effective where the KM ground forces were concerned. Half a dozen of them were cut to bloody ribbons as the heavy spikes tore them apart.
“Watch your field of fire!” Tychus warned, as Harnack’s vehicle swerved in front of them and came dangerously close to being hit by the stream of deadly tracers.
Then the Devils were in close, firing every weapon they could bring to bear as knobby tires bounced over dead bodies, and Kel-Morians fell in a welter of blood.
Both sloths were equipped with secondary weapons, all of which were firing by then, but it was hard to hit the speedy sabers as they circled the slow-moving behemoths, looking for some sort of opening. But there wasn’t any to be had, and the sabers were forced to retreat as the sloths continued their inexorable advance.
Meanwhile, Ward spoke over the squad freq as Zander braked to avoid a smoking shell crater. “Stop the car and let me out… . Maybe I can stop those things.”
“Okay,” Zander agreed. “But don’t hang around to count your hits. I’ll be waiting for you.”
“Or maybe I’ll be waiting for you,” Ward countered as the saber skidded to a stop. Then, before Zander could reply, Ward was on the pavement and headed for the middle of the street.
Raynor put his saber into a tight turn, braked, and saw what Ward was preparing to do. He shouted, “No!” as the sloth fired and a shell passed within a few feet of the other man’s head.
But it was too late as Ward planted both feet, poured all of his concentration into the image on his HUD, and realized that the first sloth was shielding the second. That meant he couldn’t fire on both. But he sure as hell could put a full load of rockets into the first machine and send the crew straight to hell!
Ward’s tubes had been reloaded by that time. He braced himself and triggered all eight rockets at once, and was firing his gauss cannon when six of his projectiles hit. The leading edge of the first sloth was momentarily obscured as a series of explosions rippled across its bow. But that was where the sloth’s armor was thickest. So there was a high probability that the machine would have survived all of the impacts had it not been for a stroke of luck.
Because as Ward fired at the sloth, it fired at him. And when the projectiles collided only inches in front of the machine’s cannon, the force of the combined explosion was sufficient to blow the machine apart. A column of orange flame sent the turret straight up, a section of track flew off, and a secondary explosion sterilized the crew compartment.
Without the first sloth’s bulk to shield him from the second machine, Ward was terribly exposed. Raynor saw the second sloth’s cannon start to swing. “Run!” Raynor shouted. “Run, goddamn it!”
But Ward wasn’t about to run as he opened fire with the gauss cannon. Time seemed to slow, and he could hear his children laughing, as he saw the muzzle flash. Then Ward was gone as a cannon shell struck the middle of his chest and his world exploded.
Unfortunately there was no time to mourn Ward’s death as Kydd’s voice was heard over the comm unit. “Tychus! Jim! We’re taking fire from the east! Over.”
Raynor took his foot off the brake, brought the saber around, and saw that the sniper was correct. Vanderspool and his marines were advancing up the street, seeking cover wherever they could find it, and firing at targets of opportunity. “We have to reach the starport before they do,” Tychus said over the comm. “Follow us!”
Raynor took off, and as Harnack pulled in behind the lead saber, he was careful to jink back and forth as cannon shells sent columns of debris soaring into the air. His windscreen shattered, there was a metallic clang as something landed in the cargo compartment, and Harnack swore.
Zander was in the last vehicle and still trying to process Ward’s sudden death as he spotted one of the two young women he’d encountered earlier. She was alone, her dress was smeared with blood, and she was terrified—not to mention the fact that she was standing in the line of fire. Zander swore, stood on the brake, and turned to one of the men in back. “Take the wheel!” he shouted. “I’ll catch up!”
The ranger was a member of the second squad. He nodded, jumped out, and was just about to get behind the wheel when a shell scored a direct hit on the saber and sent the shattered wreck tumbling end-for-end. Armored bodies flew through the air and fell like broken dolls.
Zander was twenty yards away by then, having dragged the woman off the street. He wanted to lead her to safety, but as the sloth rolled past and Vanderspool’s troops rounded a corner, he knew his friends needed him. “Go to the west gate. Get out into the countryside and hide. It’s your only chance. Now go!”
She mumbled something incoherent and took off erratically in the direction he’d indicated.
Zander turned back toward the street. Unfortunately it was too late. Vanderspool was there with his needle-gun already leveled. Zander was completely vulnerable—without his hardskin, the private was down to sweat-stained cammies.
Cassidy was present as well. Like Vanderspool she’d been forced to shuck her armor and stood with her medic bag slung over one shoulder. She tried to meet Zander’s eyes but couldn’t. She felt hollow inside, as if whatever remained of her inner being had been left at the lev station, where the final betrayal had taken place. Now, fully aware of what was about to happen, Cassidy began to shake. It was like going through withdrawal, only worse, because she knew that no amount of crab was going to make her feel better.
“Well, well,” Vanderspool said, as he eyed the man in front of him. “Look what we have here.”
Zander began to swing his weapon left, but knew there wasn’t enough time, as Vanderspool fired. The first needle knocked Zander off his feet, the second smashed through his forehead, and the third was completely unnecessary.