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284
HALO: FIRST STRIKE
pinpricks of stretched space, the first indication of a
Slip-space jump.
"I'm not going through another Slipspace fight," Locklear
said through gritted teeth. "I'm not going to let them follow us.
Or let this thing shoot off a signal flare to every Covenant ship in
the galaxy."
He grabbed a can of C-7 off the dolly and dropped Dr. Halsey's
crystal on the deck. He quickly covered the thing with the foam-
ing explosive. It hardened to a stiff resin in a matter of seconds.
Locklear grabbed a detonator, inserted it into the foam, and con-
nected it to a timer.
Why had the doc given him this to guard? She said because
the ONI spooks wouldn't have the guts to get rid of it if they had
to ... would maybe even let it fall into Covenant hands. That
made sense, but, at the same time, there was something not quite
right with that explanation.
Locklear looked at the monitor and the pinpoints of light that
now almost blotted out the stars.
Screw it.
He had his own reasons to blow this thing up—like not want-
ing to die in another space battle. Like maybe getting some pay-
back for Polaski's death. The Covenant rat-bastards wanted it so
bad? Well, screw them, too.
"This one's for you, Polaski," he whispered.
Locklear set the timer for three seconds, and punched the
countdown. He dived for cover behind the robotic dolly and cov-
ered his head.
The brilliant flash of sapphire light was the last thing he ever saw.