Halo_ Ghosts of Onyx - Eric S. Nylund [91]
"Since you mention protocol…" Kurt deliberately turned his back to her and faced Blue Team. "1 want to clarify our chain of command. I understand Lord Hood gave you command of this mission," he said to Fred. "But I'm in charge of all USNC personnel on Onyx."
Kurt activated his friend-or-foe electronic tag, on extreme low power—just enough so they'd pick it up. On their displays appeared his green color-coded military ID number as well
as the bars and star insignia of a UNSC lieutenant commander.
The Spartans straightened, their involuntary response when in the presence of an officer.
"I am therefore assuming command of this mission," Kurt said.
No one said a word for a moment… and then Fred snapped off, "Yes, sir."
Something was different in Fred's voice. A bit of the familiar-ity was missing, but there
was something else: respect.
Kurt gave Blue Team a quick nod, and then turned to Dr. Halsey. "Ma'am, I want you to continue your analysis of the Zone 67 documents on the Forerunners. I expect an update on your progress in two hours."
Dr. Halsey arched an eyebrow. She said nothing and slowly sat down, returning to her
computer.
Kurt inwardly sighed. That was one battle won today.
Olivia's green status light flashed twice—the signal for "friendly approaching."
A ripple crossed the entrance to the hollow, part shadow, part rock, and then the SPI
camouflage resolved into Olivia. "Sentinel pair," she whispered. "Half a kilometer south, sir. Moving this direction in a search pattern."
Kurt said, "Everyone, get ready to move out. Kelly, limber up; you're our rabbit."
"Happy to oblige, sir." She made the two-fingered signal over her faceplate, the traditional Spartan smile.
The others nodded.
Kurt knew they'd follow him, into battle, and right to the gates of hell if he ordered it. He had a feeling it might come to that.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
1810 HOURS, NOVEMBER 3, 2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ ZETA DORADUS SYSTEM, PLANET ONYX \ NEAR RESTRICTED REGION ZONE 67
Kurt had seen snipers zero their instruments before, but never for an extreme-range, near-vertical target.
Linda took the task as seriously as a surgeon preparing for a heart transplant. She cleared a patch of rocky ground and laid out a camo mat so dust wouldn't foul her SRS99CS2 AM rifle. Next she opened a kit that contained tools, bottles of cleaner and lubricant, several magazines for her rifle, a box of 14.5x114mm ammunition, and a tiny datapad. She selected one of the magazines and inspected it; satisfied, she opened the box of ammo and removed one of the rounds: super-hardened red polymer petals surrounded a finned tungsten dart. She spun it around and looked at the cartridge base. Opposite the legend "51" it bore the winged hourglass headstamp flanked by double "X"s—signifying that it was hand-loaded match-grade ammo from Misrah Armories on Mars. She slid the magazine into the rifle.
Next she linked her Oracle scope to the datapad and made microcalibrations. She finally sat, butted the rifle to her shoulder, and then leaned back flat and sighted up at the sky.
"Ready," she said over single-beam COM. Her voice was detached and trancelike.
"Eyes sharp," Kurt told everyone.
The Spartans had moved from the rendezvous hollow to the
high ground among broken canyons and mesas where Team Saber had first encountered the Sentinels. Kurt had them spread out along both sides of the valley.
Kelly stood in a gravel wash in the center of the valley and scanned the horizon, waiting for the double Sentinel to spot her. The sun was high and her shadow was a wavering spot at her feet.
For someone who was bait, she looked perfectly at ease.
The tunnel where Dante had rigged the opening and exit with charges was a quarter kilometer away from her position. Just far enough.
The tricky part of this plan would be to get the Sentinel pair into the tunnel, instead of staying high and blasting Kelly while she was inside. Would they continue their "game" of cat
and mouse, or was the data-collection phase of their operation over?
Either way, Kurt