"And I'm very glad you did." He held his still tingling arm across his chest. "You probably just saved us both."
He looked at her carefully. After all she'd been through, she looked... stronger somehow.
Lori raised her eyes to Grayson and managed a smile. "I'm...O.K."
"I know you are." He pointed back to where smoke was curling out from under the door to Room 6, between the sprawled forms of the two sentries. "They'll send someone down to see to that fire any minute now. Let's move!"
Hurrying through dimly lit corridors, they found an elevator guarded by mangled bodies in Kurita uniforms, but Grayson did not trust the building to continue providing power for long. They kept hunting until they found a stairway leading up. On the next level, they heard the rattle of gunfire and the dull, flat crack of exploding rockets.
Cautious now, they moved toward the sound with pistols held ready. They found more dead, here a trio of men in prisoner’s rags splattered with blood, there a Kurita soldier beaten into grisly horror, his weapons gone.
They came to a vast, open room enclosed by shadows and menacing shapes. It was a BattleMech maintenance facility. There were stacks of shells and armor plate along the walls between twelve-meter high skeletal frameworks of work gantries. Two of the gantries were occupied, and Grayson recognized both ‘Mechs. The one on the right was the Crusaderhe'd faced twice already. The other was the Marauderthat he knew belonged to the Kurita senior ‘Mech regimental commander.
Across the room, a huddle of men moved behind a hastily thrown-up barricade of carts and armor plate. At first, they were only moving shapes against the light from outside. Grayson's eyes adjusted to the light in the same instant that one of them turned away from the firing line. It was a Kurita soldier.
The man shouted and raised his submachine gun. Bullets sang and cluttered overhead as Grayson and Lori ducked down among the stacked arrays of BattleMech treasure. That armor plate would protect them from any weapon those soldiers could carry, but he could hear the shouts and running footsteps of troops spreading out to both sides. It wouldn't be long before he and Lori were pinned down and killed.
Grayson raised his head far enough to cast his eye over the two BattleMechs. The Crusaderwas closer, but its torso had been opened to reveal tangles of power cables and actuator circuitry that hung from it like an obscene parody of disembowelment The Crusaderhad been badly damaged in its last fight and was in the racks for extensive repairs.
The Marauderlooked untouched, however, its weapons gleaming, its cockpit hatch invitingly open. That was deceiving, Grayson knew. He had hit the Marauder,and critically. Had the damage already been repaired?
Bullets snapped overhead and Grayson dropped behind the armor plate. Lori was finishing with the fasteners of her borrowed jacket. She pushed a tangle of stray blonde out of her face and gave Grayson a weak smile. "Lovely day for a last stand, isn't it. Gray?"
"It's not time for that yet. How'd you like to try for that Marauderover there?"
She glanced in the direction he'd indicated with his thumb. "I'd love to. How do we get past those... people?"
"Like this. Be ready to run."
He pulled two grenades from his tactical vest. Each of the dull, squat canisters bore the legend "WH SMK." He handed one to Lori.
"I only have two of these, so make it count. You put yours over mere," he said, pointing. "Mine will go on the other side. Count ten, and we'll go."
She nodded and took a firmer grip on the canister, the index finger of her other hand looped through the arming pin. Grayson held down the arming lever of his own grenade, yanked the cotter pin, then waited while Lori did the same with hers. Then he nodded out a silent three-count and hurled the canister with a stiff-armed swing.
The two grenades clattered among the stacked supplies and exploded with dull thuds. White smoke boiled up from two widely spaced spots in the room. There were wild shots and yells of alarm. Grayson counted ten, then stood and slipped over the sheltering pile of armor. Lori was close behind.
The smoke was a gray and impenetrable fog. Grayson and Lori held hands to keep from being separated as they sprinted across the open area that Grayson had noted in his brief inspection. Once a shadow moved across their path just ahead, but it was swallowed by the smoke as quickly as it appeared. Smoke rasped harsh and scratchy in Grayson's throat He tried to take shallow breaths but he found he was holding his breath by the time they reached the far wall. When he finally let the breath out, the exertion of his run forced him to draw in a deep breath at the same moment. The whole routine nearly doubled him over in a gasping fit of coughing.
'Take shallow breaths," Lori said, but Grayson had neither breath nor strength to answer. They had reached a wall of stacked equipment crates, which Grayson had remembered seeing piled on either side of the two ‘Mechs. Now, was he to the left or the right of the Marauder?
He decided they were between the two ‘Mechs, and just to the right of the Marauder.They turned left and hurried. The smoke was thinning rapidly. Already, he could see shadows running through the fog meters away, charging back toward the way they had just come. Just ahead, he saw the shadow of the Marauder.
The BattleMech's ladder was not down, but there was a ladder on the gantry framework that held it. Lori handed him her pistol and started up first. He tucked both pistols into his combat belt, gave her a moment's head start, then scrambled up after her.
A high-pitched whining puzzled him as they climbed. It took him a moment to place the sound. Large fans set into ventilators in the walls or ceilings had been turned on. Such fans were standard equipment in ‘Mech repair areas, where poisonous fumes or the smoke from smoldering battle damage could accumulate. Once they were turned on, the smoke began clearing rapidly.
Too rapidly. There was a shout, a crack, and a bullet howled off the side of the ladder ten centimeters below his right hand. The vast and echoing room rang with the chatter of a submachine gun, and rounds spanged and chirred through the steel framework around him.
He twisted around, pulling one of the pistols from his belt, thumbing the safety off. He was eight meters above the ferrocrete now, and the figures of the Kurita soldiers below him were made small by the distance. He clung with one arm to the ladder, pointed the pistol almost straight down, and squeezed the trigger. The gun snapped in his hand, and spent brass flicked through the air and down toward soldiers suddenly scattering in every direction for cover. He fired again...again...again... He hit no one, but his targets showed a sudden reluctance to remain in his line of sight
Glancing up, he saw Lori's long legs flash in the gloom as she swung off the ladder and dashed across a metal walkway to the Marauder'sopen hatch. Grayson swarmed up after her as shots from below began potting through the air in his direction.
The Marauder'scockpit was big enough for the two of them— just barely. Up close, the damage from Grayson's lucky LRM shot into the heavy ‘Mech's head was still evident. The cockpit screen had been breached, and jagged fingers of metal and plastic pointed inward where fragments had broken through. Blood stained the control seat, and Grayson wondered what had happened to the ‘Mech's pilot. Had it been Kevlavic? Probably. On an ambush as important as that one, he would have been there. He must have been seriously wounded at least, though he'd managed to con his machine back to Regis. Wondering if Kevlavic were still alive, Grayson swung the canopy down into place and dogged it tight.
"Maybe this isn't the time to bring it up," Lori said from behind the control seat, "but I've never piloted one of these things."