Task Force Mars - Kevin Dockery [77]
“Down!” cried Ruiz, the first to glimpse the interior of the darkened building.
“Watch for our people!” Jackson shouted, slamming to the deck, painfully jarring his shoulder.
A bolt of plasma energy sliced out of the shadows, searing across the pavement. One of the SEALS shouted, “Shit!” and Jackson knew one of his men was hit.
Now he could see a rank of a dozen or more Eluoi soldiers standing or kneeling in front of another transport. Even as the aircraft’s turbines started to whine, the enemy troops opened up, sending slugs and beams across the tarmac where the Team lay prone.
The SEALS returned fire with precision. The suppressed G15s spit quietly, and one by one the Eluoi toppled. After half of them had been shot in the first seconds, the others started to scramble back toward the rear of the transport.
“Kill them! You can see them, right there! Kill them!”
It was Zaro, exhorting his men from the base of the aircraft’s ramp. Jackson sighted along the short barrel of the plasma gun and shot a beam, cursing as the energy weapon seemed to diffuse over the fifty meters of distance. Zaro spit a curse, clutching his arm where he had been burned, and then sprinted up into the aircraft.
The turret gun started to stutter, and the SEALS fell back, taking shelter behind the tractor and in the ruined shed. The aircraft moved forward, jets roaring, until it was out in the sunlight. Jackson saw a man’s face at one of the side windows and recognized Ensign Sanders.
Rocky, meanwhile, hoisted his rocket launcher as the transport started to rise into the air. One missile would bring it down in flames, but Jackson shook his head and shouted, “No!”
The word was lost in the roar of the engines, but the gunner’s mate understood and lowered his launcher. In another second the aircraft was veering away from the pad, the jets rocketing it on a beeline course toward the massive pyramid rising like a majestic mountain just a few klicks away.
“All right, regroup!” the lieutenant shouted as the roaring faded quickly into the distance. “Mount up. We’re bugging out in that!” Jackson pointed toward the freshly refueled jetcar that was still parked in the hangar.
“What should we do with these two?” La Rue asked. He was sitting in a chair, Baby resting on the floor and the G15 held casually across his lap, the suppressor muzzle facing in the general direction of the two Eluoi technicians. The prisoners were handcuffed and bound at the ankles, sitting against the interior wall of the hangar.
The lieutenant looked around and saw the metal grids of a heavy shelf unit nearby. “Leave ’em,” he ordered. “They’ll keep until someone comes along to turn ’em loose—after we’re long gone.”
Ruiz gestured to the older prisoner, pointing to his ear, and the man removed the translator and returned it to the master chief, who put it back in his own ear. Meanwhile, Falco climbed up to join Char-Kane in the cockpit while his Teammates removed the wheel chocks from the jetcar’s landing gear. The Shamani already had the turbines spinning as the the SEALS scrambled aboard. Harris climbed into the dorsal turret to check out the gun, and Jackson joined Falco and Char-Kane on the flight deck.
“This one look the same as the one you flew?” the lieutenant asked.
Falco nodded. “Same make and model, sir.” From his seat in the pilot’s chair he threw a couple of switches. Immediately dials and lights came to life across the instrument panel. “Fuel tanks are topped off,” he noted approvingly.
Char-Kane advanced the throttles from the copilot’s seat while Jackson strapped himself into a spare chair just behind the two pilots. There he had a good view out the starboard windows and, by craning his neck a little, could also see out the other side of the cabin. He noticed with a small sense of surprise that the sun at last seemed to be dipping below the zenith. He guessed it was now the equivalent of middle to late afternoon on the world of Batuun.
There were wireless headsets at each seat, and the lieutenant slipped one on and flicked the speak switch. “Everyone strapped