‘Where the hell is that gunfire coming from?’ asked Bonin.
They turned to look. A second layer of weapons fire was ripping into the Sons of Sek. It was coming from an entirely different angle, meshing with the efforts of Gaunt’s force and Hark’s detachment like an interference pattern.
‘It’s Criid!’ Varl yelled. He whooped.
‘Feth me,’ said Rawne. ‘There really is an Emperor.’
Criid’s strikeforce, smaller in size than Hark’s but still packing a punch, was storming out of air shafts and tunnels on the far side of the concourse. Chiria’s flamer was roasting the Sons of Sek out of position, and Hark’s front-line shooters were making the most of the pickings. In less than five minutes of intense gunfire, the three prongs of the Imperial position had driven the Archenemy units back into a distant line.
‘They won’t hold there for long,’ said Mkoll. ‘They’ll take reinforcements and–’
‘Long enough,’ said Gaunt. ‘Let’s move. Signal Criid and Hark to get their forces in here.’
Criid’s mob was the first inside the shot-up, ruined college hall. They were dirty from their trek and many were carrying minor injuries.
‘What happened to you?’ asked Gaunt.
‘Tank mine,’ said Criid. ‘Lost a few. It wasn’t pleasant. But there was an up side. The blast cleared the path for us. Opened up those old airshafts that brought us here. We followed the sounds of a desperate last stand.’
‘Your timing, as usual, is impeccable, Criid,’ said Gaunt. ‘Get moving. Domor, show them the way out of here. Double time, Ghosts. Come on!’
Hark and his force began spilling in through the front hatches.
‘What the hell is this place?’ Hark asked, looking around.
‘You can read the report later,’ said Gaunt. ‘Move your men out that way. Follow Criid. Fast as you can, Viktor.’
The Ghosts force was exiting fast. The scouts held the front hatches, taking steady shots to discourage the Sons from making another push. Gun teams were breaking down crew-served weapons and carrying them away. At a signal from Gaunt, Domor started to wire up the satchel charges every member of Strike Beta had brought with them.
‘Burn the rest,’ Gaunt told Brostin.
Brostin smiled. ‘You’re too good to me, sir,’ he said.
Brostin turned his torch on the annexes first. Flames licked up, lighting the college halls. Paint flaked away like dried skin or dead leaves. Objects caught in the fire popped and cracked and burst. Gaunt watched the flames for a while, basking in the heat. The fire was purifying. It marked an end, a baptism, a re-entry into the war. Most of all, it seemed to mark an accomplishment that he hoped would be truly significant.
The effort of making it happen had come with a price for his Ghosts, a price he had not yet counted.
He turned to find Mabbon Etogaur watching the flames.
‘We’ve done what we can,’ he said. ‘Let’s hope it’s sufficient.’
Mabbon nodded.
‘Shipmaster Spika will have been broadcasting the prepared transmissions for the last half an hour. He will continue to do so as we leave the system. They were all prepared according to the codes and language you supplied. When the benighted anarch comes to pick over the ruins of what we leave here, and when he plays back the transmissions captured during the attack, it will appear that his facility was raided by the Blood Pact, and that his treasures were confiscated to prevent him overreaching himself.’
‘You have lit a fuse,’ said Mabbon. ‘The Gaur. The anarch. Neither one will stand for the accusations that will follow this raid.’
‘If we have gone part-way to engineering a divisive internecine war between the Sanguinary Lords, I believe we have expended worthwhile effort.’
Gaunt looked at Mabbon.
‘It’s time to leave.’
Mabbon looked puzzled.
‘Really?’ he asked.
‘Of course.’
‘I thought–’ Mabbon began.
‘What?’
‘I presumed you would leave me here. Leave me to burn. I presumed I had served my purpose.’
‘I’ll decide when your duty ends,’ said Gaunt.
Mabbon nodded.
‘Major Rawne!’ Gaunt yelled. ‘Have your Suicide Kings escort the prisoner back to the ship. Mkoll! Prepare to break off. It’s time to leave. Brostin! I think that’s quite enough.’
‘What are you doing?’ yelled Ludd. ‘We’re falling back to the lifters. The order’s been given!’
The Space Marines turned to look at him. Their ancient armour was covered in dents and scratches, and they were drenched in blood that was not their own. Holofurnace had lost his shield. Sar Af was taking shots at another depot structure while the others stripped usable ammunition from the last of the operational weapon-servitors to fall.
‘This is the next target,’ said Eadwine. ‘The assault will continue. Go to your ship.’
‘Major Kolea sent me to find your personally,’ said Ludd. ‘The order to withdraw has been given by the operation commander.’
‘We do not take orders from the Imperial Guard,’ said Sar Af.
‘So I’ve noticed,’ said Ludd. ‘But we have to jump to yours.’
‘I believe you have just described an abiding principle of the Imperium,’ said Sar Af.
‘The order is to withdraw,’ said Ludd. ‘Please follow it.’
They turned their backs on him.
‘What? That’s it? You’re just going to carry on? Are we supposed to wait for you?’
‘Leave us,’ said Eadwine, without looking around. ‘We expected this. Our commanders expected this when they sanctioned our collaboration in this effort. The Guard may leave when it wishes. We will keep going until this place is obliterated.’
‘Really? And then what?’ asked Ludd.
‘If we have survived to that point, we will endure in the debris field until such time as a vessel detects our signal.’
‘That could be years,’ said Ludd.
‘We are more patient than you,’ said Eadwine.
‘Go,’ said Sar Af.
‘I won’t,’ said Ludd. ‘I am an officer of the Commissariat, responsible for discipline and correction. We don’t want this place obliterated. That’s the whole point. We want there to be traces left behind. We want to leave clues. We want the enemy to know. If you keep going, you will undo and undermine the entire purpose of this endeavour. You will be breaking orders and the authority of the Imperium. You will be in breach of duty and your sacred trust, and–’
‘Silence,’ said Holofurnace. He looked at his brothers. The blood of his enemies trickled down the dented gold fittings of his helm.
‘The boy has a point,’ he said. ‘The logic is solid. To continue would be counter-productive.’
The other two nodded. All three turned and walked away, their massive boots crunching over the scattered debris.
Side by side, they began to trudge back towards the distant hangar bays.
Sar Af turned and looked back at Ludd.
‘Hurry up, now,’ he said.
The landers were coming in as fast as they could. The problems of space that had affected the original drop remained. Only a few at a time could set down, and most had to ditch their payloads of munitions once they had. They had all been making a restock run when the orders changed.
Baskevyl and Kolea were supervising the dust-off, getting as many lasmen into each Arvus and Falco as they could.
Kolea saw Dalin.
‘Where’s Meryn?’ he asked. ‘Where’s the rest of E Company?’
‘They’re coming,’ said Dalin.
‘From the looks of it, Meryn pulled back too fast,’ said Baskevyl, checking the tactical display on Rerval’s vox-caster. ‘He’s let enemy units get in behind him. They’re coming out of the depot under enemy fire. Not the neatest extraction I’ve ever seen.’