Terminator Salvation_ The Official Movie Novelization - Alan Dean Foster [52]
Darting into a cluster of standing structures, the two men wove their way skillfully in and out between the buildings. Continuing its search for a clear line of fire, the HK kept after them. When they ducked into one of the long-abandoned structures, the machine began to pulverize the walls behind them. They were trapped inside, and now it was only a matter of time.
Sprinting up the interior stairs brought Connor and Barnes to the rooftop—where they were greeted by the rest of the assembled commando team. In its center stood a single tech, backpacking the portable transmitter that had been put together by the base’s best mechanics and technicians.
Having blocked the entrance to the building with debris, the HK rose on its repellers until it appeared above the roof-line. Muscles tightening, Barnes took up his position behind the transmitter-carrying tech and looked anxiously at their squad leader.
“Now?”
Connor evinced no such anxiety. While there were occasions, an increasingly apprehensive Barnes reflected, when the man’s calm could be reassuring, at other times it could be downright unnerving.
“Wait.” Connor regarded the ascending machine with a detachment that bordered on the academic.
Adjusting its attitude as well as its altitude the HK pivoted slightly, the better to bring its weapons to bear on the group of humans it had cornered atop the ruined building. Guns whirred to life as they prepared to fire. On the roof, battle-hardened fighters flinched and looked fretfully at their leader.
“Now.” Voicing the command with conviction, Connor never took his eyes off the Hunter-Killer.
Reaching up onto the tech’s backpack, Barnes flipped the switches that activated the transmitter. Had anyone asked, he would not have been ashamed to admit that he was scared shitless. The transmitter’s components had been checked and rechecked before the device had been certified for use. Its batteries had been fully charged.
Despite repeated testing, however, no one knew if this was actually going to work out in the field. If it didn’t, the HK’s gatling guns would turn every one of them to hamburger in less than a minute. That they had all volunteered for this mission did not make him feel any better about the prospect of dying for it.
Colored telltales came to life within the body of the transmitter. It made hardly a sound and emitted nothing visible. The roar of a missile or the thunder of a cannon would have been much more visually and aurally satisfying. Used to such familiar battlefield cacophony, the commando squad was uncertain how to react when what was supposed to be the primary weapon in their midst failed to generate little more than an electronic whisper.
For a horrible moment there was no indication that the transmitter was doing anything at all. Having volunteered for the night-time mission, prepared to die if it failed, the squad members tightened their grips on their weapons and primed themselves to go down fighting.
“It’s not working,” Barnes hissed tightly. “It picked up the signal. We gotta get outta here.” He started to move.
Connor grabbed him, held him back.
“Stop. Don’t turn it off. Turn it up.”
Something very strange happened. Strange and unprecedented in their collective experience.
The indicator lights on the outside of the Hunter-Killer dimmed. The steady throb of its thrusters stopped as its engines cut out. Unceremoniously and suddenly as harmless as an oversized child’s toy, it fell backward to smash into the buildings across the street. Dust rose from the crash site, briefly obscuring the impact.
Rushing to the edge of the roof, Connor and his team peered down at the now inert machine. A few appreciative murmurs rose from the veterans among them, but for the most part everyone was too stunned to do more than stare. It was as if they could not comprehend what they were seeing.
Stopping alongside the thoughtful Connor, Barnes observed tautly, “With all due respect,