“Roger,” Yorba replied. “I’m going to need ten minutes. Over.”
“The clock is running,” Hale answered as he hit the harness release. “Out.”
One of the reasons Hale had chosen to enter the Chimeran base on the ground rather than by air was the antiaircraft guns located on top of the storage building’s flat roof. But the Stalkers weren’t tall enough to attack the batteries, and the Chimeran guns weren’t set up to fire on ground targets, so a stalemate was in effect.
The Hybrids stationed on the roof could use their Bullseyes and Augers to fire down on the invaders, however, and they hurried to do so, as Yorba went from Stalker to Stalker placing demolition charges on each machine.
So the moment Hale’s boots hit the pavement he was forced to take refuge behind a huge crablike leg and return fire with the Marksman rifle. The idea being not only to kill as many Hybrids as possible, but to force the rest of the stinks to keep their heads down, thereby allowing Yorba to complete his task, without enemy fire to stop him. The rest of the team took cover in the building’s entryway, where the Chimera couldn’t see them.
Not directly anyway, although that didn’t prevent the Hybrids from directing Auger fire down through the intervening structure.
Hale followed suit and began to pick off Hybrids like targets on a rifle range. They were head shots mostly, each of which was marked by a cloud of blood as the high-velocity projectiles flew straight and true. Soon the Chimera drew back, rather than accept more casualties. That allowed Hale to grab his gear, dash across open ground, and join the others as they completed their preparations.
Kawecki was armed with an Auger, while Gaines, Pardo, and Barrie carried Bullseyes. The latter had requested two of the small Reaper carbines as well, which she wore pistol-style in specially designed clamp-holsters.
A choice which, like so many other things having to do with Barrie, left Hale mystified. Were the weapons an affectation? Intended to make her look more dangerous? Or were they the sensible choice for someone who wasn’t very good with a pistol?
There was no clear answer.
“The charges are set, sir,” Yorba said, joining the group. He, too, carried an Auger. “They’ll go off when anything larger than a cocker spaniel passes by. So don’t go back for anything! You’ll be sorry if you do.” He had black hair, brown skin, and a round face, and he was eternally cheerful, which was one of the many things Hale liked about him.
“Good work, Corporal. And thanks for the warning. Okay, let’s get in there, find the fuel core, and get the hell out. Remember, the pick-up point is on the roof, and there’s a whole lot of stinks up there. Corporal Yorba, please feel free to open that door for us.”
Yorba grinned happily, removed what he liked to refer to as a “door knocker” from the satchel at his side, and slapped a wad of plastic explosives onto one of the double doors.
“You’d better move back,” he suggested gleefully, and promptly took his own advice. As soon as he reached an appropriate distance, he turned and gestured.
“Open sesame!” With that, he triggered the charge. There was a sharp bang as the door knocker went off, the right panel sagged, and smoke poured out through the newly created gap.
That was a sufficient invitation for Gaines, who tossed a grenade into the space beyond, and waited for the resulting explosion. It came quickly, after which he gave the bottom of the door a kick. It fell outward, missing him by a matter of inches and landing with a crash.
He was the first inside, with Hale right behind him. Both darted to the side to avoid defensive fire, yet there was no resistance. The lighting was dim—so dim that it was impossible to see the ceiling—and what illumination there was came straight from spots located high above.
The rest joined them in the open area beyond. There were two doorways separated by a twenty-foot-long section of wall. That, according to the plan agreed to back in Nebraska, was the point when Barrie was supposed to assume overall command. And she was quick to do so.
“We’re looking for an elevator, stairs, or a ramp,” she announced confidently. “The fuel cores are probably stored in the lowest level. Let’s go through the left-hand entrance and keep our eyes peeled.”
Hale nodded. “Gaines will take the point, followed by me, Dr. Barrie, Yorba, Pardo, and Kawecki. Be sure to watch our Six, Sergeant… I don’t like surprises.”
“Sir, yes, sir.”
Gaines was six foot six. He had a big head, thin, nearly nonexistent lips, and a pugnacious jaw. Like all Sentinels, he was a good shot, and he possessed an almost spooky ability to spot Chimeran ambushes. Some people credited him with exceptional eyesight, others claimed he could smell the malodorous stink they exuded better than anyone else.
Whatever the reason, he was good at it. And that was all Hale cared about as they proceeded down a corridor flanked by seven-foot-tall transparent tubes. Each cylinder contained a Hybrid. They were hard to see, due to the pearly gas that surrounded them, but judging from a complete lack of activity, they were asleep. Or unconscious. Not that it mattered, so long as they stayed that way.
“I think they were damaged, and are being reconditioned,” Barrie offered. “Although they could be in storage, too… Especially if this is the equivalent of a warehouse.”
Hale hadn’t seen anything like the facility before, but didn’t like the feel of the place, which was eerily silent except for the soft whir of pumps. Some of the tubes were empty, but Hale figured that at least fifty of the life-support chambers were occupied, which equated to one hundred stinks, assuming the next aisle over was home to the same number.
His thoughts were interrupted as Gaines’s voice came through his earplug.
“I see what looks like an elevator up ahead. Over.”
Hale saw that Gaines was correct, and more than that, an open platform was descending from above! Four Hybrids became visible as it cleared the ceiling—some of the surviving AA gunners most likely, sent down to intercept the invaders.
Gaines tagged one of the beasts, sent a burst of projectiles after it, and heard a screech as it went down.
But that gave the stinks time to begin firing back, and Gaines took a hit, which spun him around and dumped him on the floor. Hale and Yorba opened fire, and thanks to the way the Hybrids were bunched up, they were dispatched in a matter of seconds.
“Get control of that elevator!” Hale shouted. “We’re going to need it—and I don’t want any more visitors from above.”
Pardo ran forward to secure the blood-splattered platform as Hale knelt to check on Gaines. The shoulder wound, which would have taken most soldiers out of the fight, had already begun to close.
“You were lucky,” Hale said as he helped the other Sentinel up. “Duck next time.” Gaines grinned.
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay,” Hale said as he waved the rest forward. “We’re going down. Stay sharp. There’s no telling what’s waiting for us on the level below.”
Dr. Linda Barrie felt slightly nauseous as she followed Kawecki onto the elevator. Firing auto-cannons at a chromed gun-ball was one thing—but wading through a pile of dead bodies was something else. In part because of the throat-clogging smell, which was like that of rotten meat, and worse than anything she had encountered before. Part of it could be explained by the fact that one of the Hybrids had been eviscerated, but the rest of it was due to the Chimera’s typically rank body odor, which brought new meaning to the sobriquet “stink.”
One of the ′brids gave a convulsive jerk, and was in the process of sitting up when Hale blew its brains out. That was too much for Barrie, who immediately threw up.
There wasn’t much food in her stomach, so the episode was over quickly. She lifted up her head to discover that Hale’s golden eyes were waiting to meet hers.