Task Force Mars - Kevin Dockery [69]
“Stay with the civilians,” Jackson ordered the ensign, who bit back his protest and nodded. “Get up to the flight deck; use those vidscreens for intel.”
Ensign Sanders scrambled back to the flight deck with Dr. Sulati and Director Parker. Dobson sprayed another burst from the turret gun while the lieutenant popped open a storage locker in the cargo hold. He saw a large coil of light, supple line, grabbed it, and ran out onto the landing circle. They were taking fire from the hangar now, but Ruiz sprayed the open doors with well-placed bursts, keeping the shooters from drawing a bead.
But Eluoi commandos were attacking from every direction, some of them even dropping out of the sky, as four other jetcars swooped down toward the landing circle. This was more than a quick response, Jackson suspected. Somehow, the SEALS had been lured into a trap.
Still, the Team had not exactly been defanged. Rodale brought down one of the Eluoi aircraft with a well-placed rocket, and LaRue fired a round from the rail gun, the backblast billowing across the landing pad as he punched a slug through the whirling turbine of a second aircraft. That machine disintegrated in a cloud of smoke and fire, raining debris directly onto a platoon of Eluoi that was charging from another hangar. The two surviving aircraft quickly zoomed up and away.
Where the hell was Zaro? Jackson caught a glimpse of him in the open hangar, ordering a dozen soldiers to charge. They did so reluctantly and instantly were cut down by a scythe of slugs from the turret gun and the SEALS’ G15s. Zaro darted away, vanishing through a door into the building.
It was too risky to pursue him for now. They needed to get out of there and regroup. Jackson raced to the edge of the landing circle and looked over the edge of the building. The platform proved to be something like 400 meters above the ground. Taking a look over the rim was like staring into a canyon. A neighboring building, maybe 100 meters lower in height, was only twenty meters away. The space between the two structures was lost in shadows so that the bottom was invisible in the darkness.
“Over the wall!” Jackson shouted, unrolling the long spool of line. He could only hope it ran all the way to the ground. The SEALS raced toward him and one by one seized the rope and flipped over the edge. He fired a burst from his G15 when he saw an Eluoi soldier dare to show his face, and the man quickly dived into the cover of his hangar.
The Eluoi swarmed toward the aircraft, surrounding the machine with Sanders, Dobson, Parker, Sulati, and Char-Kane still inside. He saw the two females pushed roughly out of the ramp by gun-toting captors. The turret was empty, and he hoped Dobson and Sanders would have the good sense to surrender, at least for now. Biting back a curse of frustration, Jackson made a silent promise: They’d come back for their companions before this was over.
Then he went over the side and almost blacked out as something powerful, violent, and searingly painful slammed into his left shoulder. Clinging to the rope with one hand, the lieutenant slid downward, plunging toward the black, shadowy alley in the very bottom of Batuu City.
Twelve: Turning the Tables
The SEALS descended the line at a frantic speed, knowing their vulnerability if the Eluoi recovered quickly enough to cut it or dislodge the anchor at the top. Jackson was the last one down, almost landing on top of Harris. The chief tumbled out of the way at the last second, and the lieutenant hit hard, gritting his teeth against the cry of pain that almost forced itself out of his mouth. His left arm dangled uselessly, and his shoulder felt like it was on fire.
Only vaguely did he realize that he was standing in muck up to his ankles. They were in some kind of narrow alley that was almost fully dark because of the height of the two buildings flanking the passageway. The sky was a strand of pale blue that looked impossibly far away overhead. There seemed to be some tracks