Ice Station - Matthew Reilly [155]
Suddenly, an SAS commando rounded the corner in front of him. Schofield whipped his crossbow up and fired. The SAS commando’s head snapped backwards as the arrow lodged in his forehead and his feet went out from under him.
Schofield quickly went over to the body, crouched down over it.
The SAS commando had an MP-5, a Glock-7 pistol, and two blue grenades that Schofield recognised as nitrogen charges. Schofield took them all. The SAS man also had a lightweight radio headset. Schofield took that, too, wrapped it around his head, and ran off down the tunnel.
Kirsty. Kirsty.
Where were they keeping her? Schofield didn’t know. He presumed somewhere on B-deck, but only because that was where the living quarters were.
Schofield entered the circular outer tunnel of B-deck just in time to see two SAS commandos racing toward him. They raised their machine guns just as Schofield brought both of his guns up and fired them simultaneously. The two SAS men went down in an instant. Schofield didn’t miss a step as he strode over their bodies.
He moved swiftly round the circular corridor, looking left, looking right.
Suddenly a door to Schofield’s left opened and another SAS commando emerged, gun up. He managed to get a shot off before Schofield’s guns blasted to life and sent the commando flying back into the room from whence he had come.
Schofield entered the room after him. It was the common room.
He saw Kirsty instantly. He also saw two more SAS commandos who were in the process of shoving the little girl toward the door.
Schofield entered the common room warily, with both of his guns up.
When Kirsty saw Schofield step inside the common room with his two guns raised, she thought she had seen a ghost.
He looked awful.
He was soaked to the skin; his nose was broken; his face was bruised and his body armour was battered all over.
One of the SAS soldiers behind Kirsty stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Schofield step into the room. He held Kirsty out in front of him, put a gun to her head, used her as a shield.
‘I’ll kill her, mate,’ the commando said calmly. ‘I swear to fucking Christ, I’ll paint the walls of this room with her brains.’
‘Kirsty,’ Schofield said as he calmly levelled his pistol at the SAS man’s forehead, while at the same time aiming his MP-5 at the other SAS commando’s brain.
‘Yeah,’ Kirsty said meekly.
Schofield said evenly, ‘Shut your eyes, honey.’
Kirsty shut her eyes and the world went black.
And then suddenly she heard the double boom! boom! of guns being fired and she didn’t know whose guns had fired and then suddenly she was falling backwards, still in the grip of the SAS man who had grabbed hold of her to use as a shield. They hit the floor hard and Kirsty felt the SAS commando’s grip loosen.
Kirsty opened her eyes.
The two British soldiers were lying on the floor beside her. Kirsty saw their feet, their waists, their chests –
‘Don’t look at them, honey,’ Schofield said, moving to her. ‘You don’t want to see that.’
Kirsty turned around and looked up at Schofield. He picked her up and held her in his arms. Then Kirsty buried her head in Schofield’s shoulderplate and cried.
‘Come on. It’s time to get out of here,’ Schofield said gently.
Schofield quickly reloaded his weapons and grabbed Kirsty’s hand and the two of them left the common room.
They raced around the curved outer tunnel, heading for the east passageway. They turned the corner.
And suddenly Schofield stopped.
Mounted on the wall to his left he saw a large, rectangular black compartment. Written across it were the words: FUSE BOX.
The fuse box, Schofield thought. This must have been where the French cut the lights earlier . . .
Schofield got an idea.
He spun where he stood and saw the door leading to the Biotoxin Lab behind him. Next to it, he saw a door marked ‘STORAGE CLOSET’.
Yes.
Schofield wrenched open the door to the storage closet. Inside it, he saw mops and buckets, and old wooden shelves loaded with cleaning agents. Schofield quickly reached up and grabbed a plastic bottle of