Halo_ The Fall of Reach - Eric Nylund [105]
Marines outside the fabric walls of the command dome. “You hardly need a reminder to be prepared for anything . . . but stay on your guard, just the same.” Dr. Halsey’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I think some of the ONI brass would prefer to see you fail this
test, Master Chief. And they may have arranged to make sure you do—regardless of your performance.” “I won’t fail, Doctor.” Her forehead wrinkled with worry lines, but then they quickly disappeared. “I know you won’t.” She stepped back, and dropped her conspiratorial whisper. “Master Chief, you are ordered to count to
ten after I leave. After that, make your way to the obstacle course. At the far end is a bell. Your goal will be to ring it.” She paused, then added, “You are authorized to neutralize any threats in order to achieve this objective.”
“Affirmative,” the Master Chief said. Enough uncertainty—now he had an objective, and rules of
engagement. “Be careful, Master Chief,” Dr. Halsey said quietly. She gestured at the pair of technicians to follow her, then turned and walked out of the tent.
The Master Chief didn’t understand why Dr. Halsey thought he was in real danger—he didn’t have to understand the reason. All he needed to know was that danger was present.
He knew how to handle danger. “Uploading combat protocols now,” Cortana said. “Initiating electronic detection algorithms. Boosting neural interface performance to eighty-five percent. I’m ready when you are, Master Chief.”
The Master Chief heard metallic clacks around the tent.
“Analyzing sound pattern,” Cortana said. “Database match.Identified as—”
“As someone cycling the bolt of an MA5B assault rifle. I know. Standard-issue weapons for Orbital Drop Shock Troopers.” “Since you’re ‘in the know,’ Master Chief,” Cortana quipped. “I assume you have a plan.” John snapped his helmet visor back down and sealed the armor’s environment system. “Yes.” “Presumably your plan doesn’t involve getting shot . . . ?” “No.” “So, what’s the plan?” Cortana sounded worried. “I’m going to finish counting to ten.” John heard Cortana sigh in frustration. John shook his head in puzzlement. He’d never encountered a so-
called smart AI before. Cortana sounded . . . like a human. Worse, she sounded like acivilian . This was going to take a lot of getting used to. Shadows moved along the wall of the tent—motion from outside.
Eight.
There was a snag in this mission and he hadn’t even reached the obstacle course. He would have to engage his fellow soldiers. He pushed aside any questions about why. He had his orders and he would follow them. He had dealt with ODSTs before.
Nine.
Three soldiers entered the tent, moving in slow motion—black-armored figures, helmets snug over their faces, crouched low, and their rifles leveled. Two took flanking positions. The one in the middle opened fire.
Ten.
The Master Chief blurred into motion. He dove from the activation platform and—before the soldiers could adjust their aim—landed in their midst. He rolled to his feet right next to the soldier who fired first, and grabbed the man’s rifle.
John brutally yanked the weapon away from the soldier. There was a loud cracking sound as the man’s shoulder dislocated. The wounded trooper stumbled forward, off balance. John spun the rifle and slammed the butt of the weapon into the soldier’s side. The man exhaled explosively as his ribs cracked. He grunted, and fell unceremoniously to the floor, unconscious.
John spun to face the left-flank gunner, assault rifle leveled at the man’s head instantly. He had the man in his sights, but he still had time—the soldier was not quite in position. To John’s enhanced senses, amped up by Cortana and the neural interface, the rifleman seemed to be moving in slow motion. Too slow.
The Master Chief lashed out with the rifle butt again. The trooper’s head snapped back from the sudden, powerful blow. He flipped head over tail and slammed into the ground. John sized the man’s condition up with a practiced eye: shock,