There was a punishing roar of cannon-fire from the left of their position. Kolea knelt up to look behind his shield and saw the three Space Marines striding towards the thickest part of the enemy line. Their gun-servitors came with them, weapon pods blazing. Withering fire rippled along the ranks of the Sons.
‘That answers that question,’ said Kolea. He gathered up his lasrifle.
‘Four! Nine! Twelve! Thirteen! Ready on my left!’ he shouted. ‘Eight! Fifteen! Vanette, your mob too! Get up and get ready! Suppressing fire on my order! Rockets, please! Objective is that processor hub!’
‘You heard the commander!’ Fazekiel cried, getting to her feet and buttoning her coat. ‘The Emperor’s watching you! He’s watching us all. He’s relying on you today so don’t let him down! Numbered squads as ordered. Load and get ready!’
‘For Tanith! For Verghast! And for the fury of Belladon!’ Kolea howled. ‘Into them!’
TWENTY
Salvation’s Reach
‘Wait,’ whispered Mkoll. ‘Wait.’
‘It was clean,’ Larkin protested, lowering his rifle.
‘Yes,’ Mkoll agreed. He adjusted his tagger beam. ‘You hit the pin, but look.’
The beam from the chief scout’s scope lit up a fat black cable wrapped in tape running down the side of the device Larkin had just crippled.
‘Secondary trigger,’ he said.
‘Feth,’ murmured Larkin.
‘What’s it set to?’ asked Gaunt.
Domor was busy with the auspex.
‘I’m reading some kind of sack under the deck flooring there. To the right. I think it’s a compression bag. Put your weight down and it squeezes air or fluid into the trigger cable. Throne, I almost missed that.’
‘Secondary triggers suggests tighter security,’ said Gaunt.
‘We’re about a kilometre and a half inside,’ said Mkoll. ‘If our friend’s plans and memories are accurate, we’re close.’
Larkin had reloaded.
‘I can sever the cable. The trigger’s partly obscured.’
‘Do it above the trigger,’ said Domor. ‘Even if you only partly snap the line, the pressure will vent backwards out of the breach. Do it under the trigger, and the force of the shot could blow fluid or air up into the trigger anyway.’
‘Thanks for the tip,’ said Larkin, taking aim.
‘It should work,’ said Domor.
‘“Should”?’ said Zered.
‘I like to leave room for circumstantial variability,’ said Domor.
‘Yes? Go feth yourself,’ said Larkin, taking aim.
Mkoll waved Gaunt to one side.
‘Larkin’s getting tired,’ he said quietly. ‘His hands are unsteady.’
‘He’s all right,’ said Gaunt. ‘He was born unsteady.’
The rifle popped. There was a thick slap of water and glass.
‘Aaand we’re still alive,’ said Larkin.
‘He’s taken out eighteen devices so far,’ said Mkoll. ‘The sustained stress is taking its toll.’
‘We all trained for this,’ Gaunt replied.
‘And part of that training and planning involved an agreement to sub out shooters or sweepers if they started to show signs of fatigue.’
‘Sub them out for whom?’ asked Gaunt. ‘You heard what happened to Gamma. Pylar and Curo were the two reserves with lanyards, and they’ve been called in to support Daur.’
‘We’ve got other shooters.’
‘Nobody who’s trained this hard. Nobody this good. That’s why we had so many wash-outs during preparation,’ said Gaunt.
Mkoll marked off the device with red chalk. They began moving up again along the rusty vault. The walls were so corroded they looked like they were dripping in green and white ooze. They’d barely gone forty metres when Domor called in another hidden charge. Larkin began to mark it out.
Gaunt signalled to the main force advancing at a distance behind them to stop and wait.
‘Raess then, or Banda,’ said Mkoll quietly. ‘Get Criid or Mktass to break off and regroup with us.’
‘Raess and Banda have both done a dozen or so shots each,’ said Gaunt. ‘They’re no fresher than Larks. We’re committed and we’re out of options.’
Mkoll sniffed.
‘It’s your call. But I don’t think Larkin’s got more than three or four sound shots left in his finger.’
Mkoll turned to help Larkin line up. Gaunt walked back to the main force.
‘The pheguth says we’re close,’ said Rawne.
‘How close?’ asked Gaunt.
‘He recognises this corrosion. He says two or three chambers on, we’ll reach a hatchway that leads into the complex proper.’
Gaunt looked at the etogaur. Mabbon was flanked by Brostin and Varl. The rest of the S Company detail was nearby. Mabbon had been allowed to make notes on a data-slate. He showed Gaunt his sketched plan.
‘You see?’ said Mabbon. ‘We’re very close. You should get the troops ready.’
Gaunt chewed his lip.
‘How sure are you?’
‘About ninety per cent,’ said Mabbon. ‘This is a vast structure, and my memories are not perfect. But I spent several years here, and everything on this route has looked familiar. It’s been what I expected. No surprises.’
‘Ninety per cent?’ Gaunt asked.
‘Yes.’
‘If Larkin was ninety per cent accurate,’ said Gaunt, ‘we’d all be dead by now.’
‘Then it’s a good thing I’m not the one shooting out the triggers,’ said Mabbon.
There was a pop behind them, another saline round. The world did not dissolve into light and concussion. They had survived another step.
Gaunt waved up the vox.
‘This is Strike Beta, Strike Beta. I want transport ready to follow us in. The route is marked, do not deviate. Wait for my word.’
‘Understood,’ Beltayn replied. ‘I’ll signal Captain Obel.’
Gaunt turned to the long, waiting line of Ghosts that formed his fighting strength.
‘Get ready, straight silver,’ he said. ‘It seems we’re coming up on it.’
The Ghosts fixed their warknives in place.
In the Armaduke’s preparation seven hold space, they were waiting by the Tauros units when the call came through. Obel listened to the vox, nodded a few times, and handed the horn back to his operator.
‘Unload the munitions,’ he ordered. ‘These eight vehicles here. Load them with the empty carry crates. One driver, one spotter in each. Come along!’
Blenner walked over to him.
‘Orders?’
‘Strike Beta’s called in transport. They’re about to get their hands on what we’re looking for.’
Blenner nodded.
‘I’ll lead this, then,’ he said.
Obel frowned.
‘I’ve been waiting all day for a chance to–’ he began.
‘I know you have. But this is just a transport duty. In and out, lugging freight. My kind of job. I’ll use bandsmen who can drive a unit as crew.’
‘I… I would like to voice my objection,’ said Obel.
‘I hear you, I do,’ said Blenner. ‘But I outrank you in this circumstance. Look, Obel, any minute we could get the call to send active fighting reserves to the excursion deck to support Strike Alpha. Combat drop, man. That’s your kind of job. Let me take the band in to drive the cargo. That’s just grunt work. Don’t waste your time with it. Wait here for your chance to do the thing you actual heroes do.’
Obel made to reply, and then stopped.
‘I just paid you a compliment, captain,’ said Blenner.
Obel shook his head and laughed.
‘Good luck, sir,’ he said.
‘Oh, I won’t need that,’ said Blenner.