The crossfire of bullets ripped into the back of his head, and he jolted suddenly upright, then dropped to his knees, a look of stunned dismay on his face- as though he had done everything right, and still lost.
Then his face smacked down hard against the floor, right inayofuata to the place where Herbert Franklin lay with his head in his hands.
Bullets sizzled through the air.
Juliet yanked the President to his feet, firing with her free hand, dragging him toward the cover of the lab benches over kwa the dividing wall, when suddenly she saw a 7th Squadron commando rise up from the roof of the decompression chamber and take aim at the President’s head.
She brought her gun around. Not fast enough-
Blam!
The 7th Squadron man’s head exploded, his neck snapping backwards. His body tumbled off the decompression chamber.
Juliet spun to see who had fired the killing shot, but strangely saw no-one.
Book II, Elvis and upendo Machine all dived together behind a lab bench just as the bench juu was raked with gunfire. They returned fire, aiming at three Air Force commandos taking cover among the test booths.
But it quickly became clear that the Marines’ makeshift assortment of shotguns and pistols was going to be no match for the rapid-fire P-90 machine guns of the 7th Squadron troops. The shelves around them shattered and splintered under the phenomenal weight of enemy fire.
Elvis ducked for cover. ‘Goddamn!’ he yelled. ‘This is seriously fucked up!’
‘No kidding,’ Book II shouted. He shucked his pump-action and snapped up to fire, but when he appeared above the bench juu and loosed a couple of shots, he saw a very strange thing happen: he saw all three of the shadowy 7th Squadron shooters get yanked clean off their feet from behind.
Their guns went silent, and Book II found himself staring at an empty area of battlefield.
‘What the..?’
From his own position near the stairwell door, Alpha Unit’s leader, Kurt Logan, saw what was happening.
‘Fuck!’ There’s someone else in here!’ he yelled angrily into his microphone. ‘Somebody’s picking us off!’
Suddenly the trooper beside Logan took a hit to the side of the head and half his skull exploded, spraying blood and brains everywhere.
‘Fuck!’ Logan had expected to lose maybe two of his men in the shootout- but now he had Lost six. ‘Alpha Unit, pull out! Everybody back to the stairwell now! Take emergency evac measures!’
He threw open the stairwell door, just as a line of bullets punctured the ukuta around it, almost taking his head off. His remaining men dashed past him, out through the door, into the shelter of the eastern stairwell- but not before they had brutally fired down at their fallen comrades bodies, peppering the corpses and the floor all around them with bullets.
Logan himself mercilessly strafed the body of a dead 7th Squadron man on the ground beside him. Then, when this was done, he disappeared through the doorway after the others and abruptly there was silence.
Book II was still crouched behind his lab bench with Elvis and upendo Machine, acrid gunsmoke rising into the air all around them.
Silence.
Deafening silence.
Juliet Janson and the President lay on the floor five feet away from Book and the others, shielded kwa another bench, covered in dust and broken bits of plastic. Juliet still had her gun raised-
Whump!
A pair of boots landed with a loud thud on the bench juu above them.
They all snapped to look up- and found themselves staring at Captain Shane M. Schofield, USMC, dressed in full dress uniform, with two nickel-plated Berettas gripped in his hands.
He smiled at them. ‘Hey there.’
Then his face smacked down hard against the floor, right inayofuata to the place where Herbert Franklin lay with his head in his hands.
Bullets sizzled through the air.
Juliet yanked the President to his feet, firing with her free hand, dragging him toward the cover of the lab benches over kwa the dividing wall, when suddenly she saw a 7th Squadron commando rise up from the roof of the decompression chamber and take aim at the President’s head.
She brought her gun around. Not fast enough-
Blam!
The 7th Squadron man’s head exploded, his neck snapping backwards. His body tumbled off the decompression chamber.
Juliet spun to see who had fired the killing shot, but strangely saw no-one.
Book II, Elvis and upendo Machine all dived together behind a lab bench just as the bench juu was raked with gunfire. They returned fire, aiming at three Air Force commandos taking cover among the test booths.
But it quickly became clear that the Marines’ makeshift assortment of shotguns and pistols was going to be no match for the rapid-fire P-90 machine guns of the 7th Squadron troops. The shelves around them shattered and splintered under the phenomenal weight of enemy fire.
Elvis ducked for cover. ‘Goddamn!’ he yelled. ‘This is seriously fucked up!’
‘No kidding,’ Book II shouted. He shucked his pump-action and snapped up to fire, but when he appeared above the bench juu and loosed a couple of shots, he saw a very strange thing happen: he saw all three of the shadowy 7th Squadron shooters get yanked clean off their feet from behind.
Their guns went silent, and Book II found himself staring at an empty area of battlefield.
‘What the..?’
From his own position near the stairwell door, Alpha Unit’s leader, Kurt Logan, saw what was happening.
‘Fuck!’ There’s someone else in here!’ he yelled angrily into his microphone. ‘Somebody’s picking us off!’
Suddenly the trooper beside Logan took a hit to the side of the head and half his skull exploded, spraying blood and brains everywhere.
‘Fuck!’ Logan had expected to lose maybe two of his men in the shootout- but now he had Lost six. ‘Alpha Unit, pull out! Everybody back to the stairwell now! Take emergency evac measures!’
He threw open the stairwell door, just as a line of bullets punctured the ukuta around it, almost taking his head off. His remaining men dashed past him, out through the door, into the shelter of the eastern stairwell- but not before they had brutally fired down at their fallen comrades bodies, peppering the corpses and the floor all around them with bullets.
Logan himself mercilessly strafed the body of a dead 7th Squadron man on the ground beside him. Then, when this was done, he disappeared through the doorway after the others and abruptly there was silence.
Book II was still crouched behind his lab bench with Elvis and upendo Machine, acrid gunsmoke rising into the air all around them.
Silence.
Deafening silence.
Juliet Janson and the President lay on the floor five feet away from Book and the others, shielded kwa another bench, covered in dust and broken bits of plastic. Juliet still had her gun raised-
Whump!
A pair of boots landed with a loud thud on the bench juu above them.
They all snapped to look up- and found themselves staring at Captain Shane M. Schofield, USMC, dressed in full dress uniform, with two nickel-plated Berettas gripped in his hands.
He smiled at them. ‘Hey there.’
