Terminator Salvation_ The Official Movie Novelization - Alan Dean Foster [68]
The next time he looked up it was to see figures gathering at the rim. Connor he recognized immediately, Barnes a moment later. The others were new to him, but their identities were not nearly as important as the weapons they were unlimbering.
Frantic and furious, Barnes was first to spot the would-be escapees. Leaning over the edge, he pointed and yelled.
“Get ’em!”
Though it was a long way to the bottom, there was no place for anyone to hide within the silo. Spreading out, the heavily armed soldiers gathered around the rim. Inclining their weapons down into the cylindrical depths, they took aim—and wavered. Looking to Connor for instructions, one corporal hesitantly voiced the same concern each of them was feeling.
“What about Blair, Lieutenant?”
Barnes wasn’t waiting for the conflicted Connor to make up his mind. Grabbing the weapon from the guard, he yelled, “She made her choice,” and began firing. He was not lying when he’d told Williams that he was a fine marksman. And just as before, when he had been toying with the bound Wright, the shots he fired bounced harmlessly off the prisoner’s metal components. Williams had no such inherent protection. She didn’t need it. Judging the angle of fire perfectly, Wright leaned back from the ladder and aligned his own body to protect her.
Reaching the opening of the vent, they prepared to start in—only to spot a large ventilation fan some eight feet farther on. It wasn’t running, but there was not enough room between the blades and their axis for Williams to slip past, much less Wright. She didn’t hesitate. Taking out the cutter she had used to sever his chains, she turned it on, positioned it near the fan mounting, retreated, and fired a single shot in its direction. With Wright shielding her, they both turned away as the shot set off the cutter’s volatile contents. The side of the vent that supported the big fan was blown away in a satisfying eruption of blue flame.
Seeing the futility of trying to stop the prisoner with small arms, Barnes took aim with an RPG and let fire. The grenade impacted in the center of Wright’s back. By the time the resultant smoke cleared, the aghast guards at the top of the shaft could barely make out their target and the renegade pilot as they made their way into the ventilation shaft.
Connor hadn’t waited to see if the resumption of small arms fire was having any effect. As familiar with the layout of the base as he was with the permanent frown lines that had incised themselves into his forehead, he knew where the vent opened to the outside. From that, it was pretty easy to extrapolate Williams’s intentions.
“They’ll head for the river. We’ve got to cut him off!”
Barnes nodded once, turned, and joined Connor in racing for the exit. As the remaining soldiers continued firing down into the silo, neither of the two retreating men mentioned Blair Williams. This was not the time or place to discuss what she had done—or why.
***
Connor wasn’t the only one familiar with the maze that was the base. The need to be aware of potential escape routes in the event of an overwhelming attack by Skynet obliged everyone who lived or worked there to memorize as many entrances and exits as possible. In any event, Williams knew that the ventilation shaft could only run in two directions—back into the silo or out into the open air.
She and Wright halted at the end of the shaft, using the outer vent cover to shield themselves while they scanned the surrounding grounds. The terrain here was different from what they had encountered in the course of their original disastrous attempt to enter the base. Low scrub gave way quickly to forest. Thick clouds scudded across the sky, blocking what little starlight reached the ground. Perfect for an attempt at flight. At least, it was for Wright, whose night vision was preter-naturally sharp. Even so, he was less than sanguine about the prospect.
He studied the line of trees.
“We’re not going to get out