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ERIC NYLUND
201
overhead, a spiderweb of energy and projectiles. Every shot was
directed at the pair of Hunters who had fired upon John and
his team.
The Hunter pair raised their shields in unison and ducked be-
hind them—the quarter-meter-thick slabs of metal could repel
almost any single weapon's fire ... but not this merciless barrage.
These mightiest Covenant soldiers burned, their armor and
shields ignited as well, and John caught their outlines for only a
split second before they were vaporized.
The section of gallery where they had stood blasted into dust
and smoke, and the debris rained onto the floor ... along with
dozens of Grunts and Jackals who had been unfortunate enough
to be standing too near the pair.
Three heartbeats pounded in John's chest. Neither the humans
nor the Covenant hosts in the great room moved.
"What the hell is this?" Sergeant Johnson muttered. "Shouldn't
we be dead by now?"
John linked to Kelly's biomonitors; she was in shock, and her
suit's heat pumps were strained to the failure point. He had to get
her to safety.
From the uppermost gallery a Covenant Elite in golden armor
raised its energy sword high into the air and shouted. Translation
software in John's helmet whispered half a second later: "Take
them—but the next one to fire at the holy light will be skinned
alive! Go!"
Dr. Halsey pressed the arm of her glasses tighter against the
back of her ear, listening as the built-in translator whispered.
"The crystal," she murmured. "They're after the crystal."
Teams of Elites dropped slithering, plasticine ropes, which
glowed a ghostly blue. They rappelled to the floor. A hundred
Grunts squealed with excitement and danced from one foot to
the other. Jackals followed their Elite leaders on the ropes.
"Polaski!" Admiral Whitcomb shouted into his COM. "Get
down here ASAP! We need immediate extraction!"
"Roger that," Polaski replied in her cool never-flinch Navy
flier voice.
Fred, Grace, and Anton turned and fired three-round bursts
straight up as a team of Elites tried to descend on their position.
The Elites fell, spattering purple blood across the tiled floor.