* * *
Spartan was covered in blood, his armoured suit was a bizarre mixture of camouflage pattern, dirt and the red streaks of gore. His L48 rifle was on the floor, its clip expended and the bayonet had snapped and was embedded in one of the insurgents’ chests. He had his left arm locked around the throat of one man as his right wielded a vicious looking machete that he had torn from one of the many fanatics that had attacked them. One of the few surviving men suddenly rushed towards him and with a fast, almost callous, slash he removed the attacker’s head clean from his torso. Following up with a slick twist on his left arm he broke man’s neck, dropping him to the ground like a piece of discarded garbage. Teresa was down on one knee as she smashed her rifle butt into the side of a wounded fighter’s head before lifting the weapon up and putting two rounds into another. Off to the left Jesus, Marcus and three other marines were fighting the last four fanatics, easily cutting them down with their weapons.
There were now only twelve commandos still able to fight and as they staggered forward, they dragged the rest of the wounded marines into cover. The bodies of many of them were buried deep under the scores of dead fanatics. As they were tending the casualties Marcus found the badly wounded Colonel West. The man’s body was shattered, his legs torn away and a huge trail of blood all around him. Marcus dropped to one knee, checking the officer’s suit for any signs of life. Incredibly he picked up a faint pulse.
Sergeant Williams limped over and knelt down next to the wounded man.
“Sir, Colonel, can you hear me?” he called.
The Sergeant reached out gently shaking him. The Colonel moved but he was unable to speak. Spartan looked back at the wounded and then ahead to their objective, noting they were now only a short distance away. He was torn between helping this officer and getting the mission done.
“Sergeant, we have to shut off those guns. The only way the Colonel is getting out alive is if we can get the rest of the regiment here.”
As if to remind them of the urgency of their situation a small group of insurgents appeared from the far right of the plaza and moved towards the their position. They were a mixture of well-equipped Zealot fighters and lightly armed fanatics, probably reinforcements from the surface. The group fired a few shots as they rushed ahead, the projectiles ricocheting from the walls around them. But without stopping and correcting their aim the fire was sporadic and inaccurate. A heavy weapon tore chunks from the wall behind them and one of the rounds hit Marcus below the knee, it sent him crashing to the ground crying out in pain.
The Sergeant put his hand on Spartan’s shoulder.
“Do it, we’ll watch your back!” he said, before turning around and helping the wounded Marcus into a ragged firing line behind the rubble and bodies. He quickly placed an emergency first aid pack on his shattered leg and then started firing at the approaching enemy. Two of the less seriously injured men helped to move the badly wounded Colonel to cover before joining the firing line.
“Everybody else come with me, we have work to do!” Spartan shouted.
The filthy and blood spattered marines moved on, with Spartan, Teresa and Jesus taking the lead through the now ruined building. Though most of them were still carrying their L48 rifles, Spartan and two others were holding a mixture of close quarter weapons. In this cramped and filthy environment they appeared to be just as useful. Once they were through the entrance they rushed along the main foyer and then down the side corridor. According to Spartan’s tactical display this would take them to the rear yard and on to the Command Centre. There was a chance that this part of the building would be booby-trapped, they could only hope that the first blast and collapse had already triggered any further devices. Either way it didn’t matter, time wasn’t on their side. If they waited any longer they would be overrun as more of the insurgents made their way to the area and surrounded the small number of marines. They needed to get the weapons off-line and help get the reinforcements into battle as quickly as possible.
Two Zealots lay in wait and as they reached the back entrance, they opened fire. As the bullets flew around them Spartan rolled to one side just as Jesus and Teresa hit the attackers with well-aimed shots. They didn’t stop and in seconds they were in the open and running in a loose line to the gatehouse at the front of the Command Centre. It was normally protected by a strong perimeter wall and gate, but now there were multiple breaches and none of the usual security. Spartan slid into cover behind the ruins of the wall and focused his helmet-mounted optics on the Command Centre. Zooming in he examined the defences and sighed in anger as he hit the communication trigger on his helmet.
“This is Private Spartan, our commando unit has made it to the Command Centre. Colonel West is down, there are twelve of us left,” he said on the radio.
The radio crackled with a broken signal from the Santa Maria.
“Spartan, good work. Third platoon is pinned down, the engineers have made it to the side-loading bay at the Command Centre, one hundred metres from the secondary entrance. If you can get to them they should be able to find you a way in.”
Spartan turned to his right, squinting through the dust and debris. He couldn’t see any movement, then he spotted the five armoured engineers stomping towards the Command Centre. All five were covered in dents and scorch marks and they had obviously had a very difficult time making it this far.
“I see them, we’re on the way!” Spartan said, as he indicated to the rest of his squad.
They were instantly moving around the compound and towards the engineers. The defenders had already noticed the noisy, armoured marines and were pouring fire into them. One rocket blasted past and impacted near the leading marine and sent him crashing to the ground. He was up fast though and kept moving ahead. They were only twenty metres away now and Spartan contacted the closest on the intercom.
“4th Squad, can you bring down the wall?” he asked.
The lead marine in the heavy armour turned briefly to see Spartan and his squad emerge from the debris and fan out around the engineers.
“Nice to see you!” he said with a genuine sound of happiness in his voice. “If you can keep their heads down we’ll do the rest,” he said.
The arrival of the extra manpower gave them the cover they needed and with one final push the engineer unit surged ahead, leaping over the ruined perimeter wall and up to the thick masonry of the Command Centre. The defenders tried to hold them back but concentrated fire from Spartan’s squad kept their heads down.
The first marine slammed his armoured fist into the stone around the secondary doorway and ripped a metre long section from it. The second moved in and after several strikes tore a hole large enough to crawl inside. The two then grabbed the sides of the breach and tore them back, making a large hole in the wall to expose the dozen or so defenders to the wrath of the marines. As soon as the hole appeared, Jesus and Teresa tossed grenades inside. They rushed ahead, taking cover each side of hole. From inside they could hear panic as the unarmoured defenders tried desperately to avoid the weapons.
With a crump the hole filled with dust and bright flames rushed out. Spartan entered first and found only three dazed men still standing. He slashed the first across the throat as he struck the second with his fist. The heavy impact sent the man stumbling backwards and into a chair before he collapsed to the ground. Spartan pushed on inside as Teresa leapt in and dealt with the final man. Seeing the woman approach the fanatic gave her a wicked snigger and took a step forward to strike. Teresa simply blasted his leg, sending him crashing to the floor. Before he could try to respond she dropped down and embedded her bayoneted L48 rifle into his heart.
The two moved inside and the rest of the commandos followed. Several of them dealt with the wounded in their own particular style before the area was fully cleared. As Spartan stood in the room, he could see a long hallway decked with computer systems. However, none appeared to be connected to the high security weapons system. From his blueprints it said the weapon
system was placed right here in its protected environment. He moved along, checking each as he went while the rest of the commandos spread out to secure the centre. Reaching the end he found a large iron-coloured blast door with a red light flashing next to it. A glowing sign above it simply read ‘Weapons Control’.
“Shit!” swore Spartan, as he realised there was no way he could get through such a massive structure, certainly not in hurry.
“Come on, we need a way in, this is what we’re here for!” he shouted.
Teresa took a step forward before looking up to Spartan.
“How about the engineers?”
She moved closer as she looked around the perimeter of the door, trying to find a weakness. The door was extremely well made and there were no discernable gaps between the wall and the metal of the door itself.
A hissing sound came from the door and to their astonishment it lifted up to reveal the control room with all of its systems undamaged and fully operation. They both turned back to see Jesus sat at one of the desks and working on the computer terminal.
“Jesus?” asked Spartan.
“Hey, man, like I told you, I’ve got skills!” he said laughing.
Spartan smiled and then stepped inside the room, their primary objective. He sat down in front of the main computer system and scanned the options available to him. From there he could access the landing grid, point defence weapons and orbital guns. He tapped on the orbital guns and a menu appeared offering him a variety of options from powering up, testing and firing sequences. He selected the off-line mode and a message popped up along with a series of images showing each of the guns disarming and reverting to safe mode. Satisfied that it was working he called back the Santa Maria.
“Spartan here, we’ve accessed the Weapons Control Centre, the system should be fully off-line in less than one minute,” he said with satisfaction.
“Excellent work. Private, the cavalry are on the way. Get your people back to the loading bays, we will have shuttles there for you shortly.”
Teresa turned to Spartan and gave him a thumbs up, things were starting to go their way.