Which left option number two…and as Kyle watched, the Terminator lifted one foot high and started to carefully step over the tubing.
It was in mid-step, its entire weight balanced on a single foot, when Kyle lined up his shotgun with the hole in the wall and fired two shots squarely into the machine’s massive torso.
The Terminator reacted instantly, dropping its airborne foot back to the floor in an attempt to reestablish its balance. Unfortunately for it, the only floor within reach was useless for the purpose.
With a loud snapping of broken wood and tile, the Terminator crashed through the floor and vanished from sight.
Kyle retraced his steps as quickly as he safely could, to find that Star had abandoned her refuge by the stove and was standing at the end of the corridor, peering at the huge hole in the floor.
Is it dead? she signed.
Her answer was a burst of machinegun fire from the subbasement below them.
“Not unless there are miniguns in hell,” Kyle said grimly, grabbing her arm and pulling her out of the line of fire. “Let’s get out of here.”
And go back to the Ashes? she signed, looking closely at him.
Kyle grimaced. He’d hoped the run-in with Fido might have changed her mind, that she would realize how useless they would be in a straight-up fight and let him take her away from the death and hell their neighborhood had become.
But if the look on her face was anything to go by, she was more determined than ever.
Star’s instincts regarding Terminators had never been wrong yet. He would just have to trust that she was right this time, too.
“Sure,” he said, taking the rifle from her and slinging the shotgun over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”
“Tee two: first swing double eagle.” Barnes’ voice crackled through Connor’s earphone. “Teeing up for swing two.”
The earphone went silent, and Connor took a careful breath. So Skynet’s first assault on the Moldavia had been beaten back, and Barnes’ team was getting ready for the Terminators to try again. That was good.
But all the preliminary success in the world couldn’t help soothe the churning in his gut.
One of Barnes’ team had gotten hit…and Barnes had called both Pavlova and Kate in to help him.
Which implied that Kate had been right there with them, despite Connor’s specific instruction that she was to stay in the temp base.
The question was why the hell had she been there?
But he couldn’t ask her that question. Even if it hadn’t been vital that he and the others lurking near the staging area maintain radio silence, he couldn’t put a question like that on an open channel.
Because he knew full well why she’d sneaked off and joined Barnes’ squad. He’d seen the expression on her face when she realized he was letting Leon and Carol Iliaki go into danger together while Kate herself had to stay behind.
The children of the Moldavia, and her need to prove herself a worthy leader, had apparently been stronger than the constraints of obedience to her commander. And husband.
He took a deep breath, forcing his anger away. There was a time for emotion, and the middle of combat wasn’t it.
But assuming they all survived the next few hours, he and Kate were going to have a long, serious talk.
“Movement,” McFarland murmured from beside him. “East door.”
Connor peered between the broken boards that shielded his squad’s position, gazing across the patch of open ground at the sagging warehouse. The east door, which had been shut a minute ago, was now open. A moment later, two T-600s strode out into the moonlight, heading southeast at full speed across the open area.
Connor watched as they headed toward the protective mounds of rubble ringing the warehouse, feeling an unpleasant tingle of suspicion. The Terminators weren’t heading anywhere near his squad, and were showing no indication that they were even paying attention to anything in this direction. But there was always the chance that Skynet was playing it cute, that the T-600s were planning to climb over the rubble, circle south, and come up on them from behind.
Bishop was the squad member currently farthest to the rear. Connor caught her eye and nodded his head behind her. She nodded an acknowledgment and silently slipped away to play scout and rear guard.
“Funny,” McFarland murmured in his ear. “I’d have thought Skynet would have had to lose at least one more round before sending in the reserves.”
“And then send more than just two of them,” Connor agreed. “Maybe those two are on some different errand.”
McFarland grunted. “My condolences to whoever’s at the other end.”
Connor nodded. “Agreed.”
The last of the HKs spun around, its starboard engine sending up clouds of thick smoke, and crashed to the ground, bursting into flames on impact.
Blair checked the rest of the sky around her, just to be sure, then once again turned her A-10
back toward the beleaguered neighborhood where she was supposed to be helping out.
Still, all things considered, it had been a remarkably quick battle. She’d dealt very efficiently with the first two Capistrano HKs, destroying both before the four in the follow-up wave were close enough to join in. The sheer number of opponents had made that second dogfight trickier, but whatever Skynet’s knowledge of aerial tactics, the HKs’ physical limitations simply didn’t give the computer much to work with.
In the end, Blair had turned all four machines into blazing scrap metal, and Skynet had apparently decided it had taken enough losses for one night.
But the victory had been costly. Her single Sidewinder missile was gone, and the counter on her GAU-8 showed only five rounds left.
Which, thanks to Wince, meant she actually had 155 rounds. Enough to deliver one good sucker punch, maybe two, before Skynet woke up to the fact that its own count was seriously off.
That ought to be enough for Yoshi and me to take out the final two HKs and give Connor the clear air space that he needs—
Blair’s train of thought froze. The two HKs were still there, still meandering their watch over Skynet’s mass slaughter.
But in the distance to the north another HK had appeared from somewhere and was engaged in a savage dogfight with Yoshi’s plane.
And Yoshi’s A-10 was on fire.
“Hang on, Jinkrat,” she snapped as she twisted her fighter toward them. “I’m on my way.”
“Stay there,” Yoshi ordered, his voice nearly inaudible over the staccato beat of the shells slamming into his cockpit and the roar of the flames blazing around him. “You’ve got a job to do.
Do it.”
“Damn it all, Jinkrat—”
“So long, Hickabick,” Yoshi interrupted her, his voice calm with the quiet serenity of someone who sees death approaching. “Kill a few for me, will you?”
“I will,” Blair promised, her stomach twisted into a hard, nauseated knot. “Good-bye, Yoshi.”
“Good-bye, Blair.”
And with that, Yoshi spun his crippled fighter around in an impossibly tight turn and rammed its nose full speed into the HK’s side.
The vehicles were still locked together in their death embrace as they tumbled in a blazing fireball to the earth.
Blair blinked sudden tears from her eyes, her throat aching. The odds had finally caught up to Yoshi…and Blair had lost yet another friend.
But at least this time she’d been able to say good-bye.
She turned her eyes back to the two hovering HKs, forcing down the pain and grief and fury.