One lone, black-clad soldier in a heavy, visored helmet stood ten meters away, a heavy, double-barreled weapon at his shoulder. Lori sat rigid in the grip of a paralyzing fear. That trooper was carrying a portable inferno launcher, the same weapon that Grayson had once threatened her with, so very long ago.
She willed her hands to move, to take the machine gun controls and fire. She willed them to move, but failed. Paralyzed, she watched the soldier's finger tighten on the trigger. As the inferno missile fired and exploded, its white fire poured across the Locust'shull in a jellied wave that struck and clung, burning furiously.
Panicked, Lori began screaming, and it was Grayson's name that she shrieked again and again. Then her voice failed as the air inside the cockpit seared her lungs. Smoke curled from the instrumentation, and the hull pinged and sang as violently heated metal plates warped at the center of a fire that approached 1000 degrees.
Her fist slammed down on the ejection switch. Nothing! The circuit was dead, melted by the heat! She hauled around on the con stick and set the Locustrunning. The motion, the blast of air across the burning surfaces, only fanned the flames brighter and hotter.
35
The shock of impact jarred Grayson violently against his seat, but the restraining straps and mercury-core piston mounts absorbed the worst of it. One moment there was a searing pain in his side and head. The next thing he knew, it seemed that time had passed unnoticed. Had he blacked out?
The Hawkwas lying on its side, and Grayson could see the strutting, back-canted legs of Vallendel's Marauderclose beside him. What were they waiting for? He craned his neck to look up through his canopy at the Maraudertowering above him. Vallendel must have thought him dead.
His fingers found a set of hand controls on the arm of his chair. He grasped and hauled them back in a savage, swift motion. The Shadow Hawk'supper leg snapped out in a whistling kick that smashed into the Marauder'sright leg with steel-denting force, knocking the heavier 'Mech to the side in a drunken stagger.
The Shadow Hawkrose to its feet as the Maraudertoppled over in a kind of graceful slow-motion. Grayson fired the laser into the downed 'Mech's leg twice, then swung to cover the Crusader,which was lumbering toward him as fast as it could travel. He fired a salvo of SRMs that missed, but that turned the Crusader'scharge.
It might have been possible — just barely possible — that he could have taken on the Marauderin single combat He was realist enough to know he would never survive if he tried to face both 'Mechs at the same time. Revenge could not be sweet if he didn't live to taste it.
The damage to the Shadow Hawkwas extensive, especially in the back. He worked such repairs as he could manage from the cockpit. Punching the fuel dump, he felt the surge as his supply of liquid mercury reaction mass cascade onto the ground in a spray of silver droplets. Firefighting foam surged through molten circuits, and damaged life support circuits were killed and bypassed as he brought backups on line.
With 200 meters between himself and his enemies, Grayson turned and brought the Crusaderinto his HUD sights, then triggered his autocannon.
But nothing happened. He couldn't tell from his board whether the cannon was destroyed or the ammo feed was fouled, but the mechanisms for both were stored in the Hawk'sshattered backpack. He fired his laser instead, catching the Crusaderclose by the damaged section of its upper left arm.
The Marauderwas on its feet again, apparently not seriously damaged. Even at 200 meters, however, Grayson could see the dent the Hawk'sfoot had left in the Marauder'sright leg, just below the knee. It made the monster move with a distinct limp as it broke into a steady jog in pursuit of Grayson's 'Mech.
Then he too was running, twisting and dodging from side to side as both enemy 'Mechs loosed bolts and missiles at his Hawk.Suddenly, Grayson collided with the side of a storehouse, sending half a wall sliding down in dust and debris as he brushed past. What he needed now was cover, a place where he could separate his foes. A few hundred meters away, the squat, gray-green fuel tanks at the southeast comer of the spaceport beckoned.
The port was not deserted by any means. Black-uniformed soldiers ran singly or in small groups, and numerous hovercraft and wheeled vehicles slipped among the buildings on unknown missions. The only direct threat, however, was the pair of 'Mechs following him now among the orderly rows of storage tanks and the spaghetti tangle of pipes and feeder lines used for refueling grounded ships.
They'd stopped firing at him, but it was no wonder. Grayson had seen the result of laser bolts fired into a tank of liquid hydrogen. The shots left a crater three meters deep.
Could he perhaps trap his enemies in the blast of a hydrogen tank? Though he liked the thought of it, common sense rejected the idea. Burning hydrogen rose very quickly into the sky, restricting its range of destruction. And, though the blast could be enormously destructive, the two 'Mechs were unlikely to stand still while Grayson blazed away at a storage tank close beside them.
Ah, but here was another possibility. On the north edge of the field was a storage tank different from the others. Long and low, it had unusual pump fittings and none of the bulky refrigeration machinery required for storing liquid H. Grayson knew what had been stored in this tank before the raiders had come: aviation fuel for helicopters and the other light aircraft used for transport between the cities of Trellwan. He turned, searching among the H tanks. Though neither 'Mech was visible, he knew they were close, working their way toward him, probably moving along either edge of the hydrogen tank field in hopes of catching him between them.
Grayson slipped his hand into the snug warmth of the gauntlet controls. Flexing his fingers against the light resistance, he watched as the great fingers of the Shadow Hawkflexed and moved in response. BattleMechs equipped with gaundets were capable of considerable dexterity. They could pick up vehicles, crates of supplies, and even people without damaging them.
He closed the gauntlet into a fist, then rammed it home against the fuel tank. The shock of the impact shuddered through the 'Mech's hull. As dark amber liquid gushed from the hole, he stepped back quickly. Aviation fuel was highly flammable, even explosive under the right conditions, and he did not want a chance spark to set it off. He turned and began sprinting northward.
Grayson's rear imager picked out his two pursuers as they emerged around the sides of the tank farm, but well clear of the leaking fuel tank. Both opened fire as soon as they spotted him, apparently unconcerned about the fuel tanks behind them. Though any stray shot of Grayson's might hit one, it took quite a bit to puncture one of the heavily armored H storage tanks.
Were they close enough? Grayson thought. The Crusaderwas moving in now, and was perhaps 20 meters from the tank. But was the Maraudernear enough? There is only one way to find out, he thought, and fired his laser at the aviaton fuel tank.
The fuel on the ground took fire first A wall of flames raced across the ferrocrete, engulfed the tank, then sent an angry orange and black fireball boiling into the morning sky. The impact of the explosion smashed the Shadow Hawkto the pavement, and for long seconds, the ground seemed to tremble with repeated reverberations. When Grayson was able to lift the Hawkpart way up on its arms, he saw that several of the hydrogen tanks had blown as well. The entire northern section of the tank farm had collapsed in a crater of rubble and flame, and the sky had become a dark pall that turned day to an eldricht night lit only by the orange flicker of burning fuel.