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310
HALO: FIRST STRIKE
"There are dozens of reports on the security channels. I've got
them covered."
Another Cortana voice broke in over the first: "Also be ad-
vised, Chief, that there are ceremonial guards in this temple—a
race we have not encountered before. Roughly translated from
Covenant dialects, they are called 'Brutes.' They shouldn't be a
significant threat or they would have been used in previous mili-
tary situations."
John wasn't so sure of that. The name Brute didn't sound
promising. He also wondered why there now seemed to be more
than one Cortana in the station's system—but that could wait.
They had to keep moving now that they had revealed their posi-
tion. He waved Blue Team forward.
John took point. He moved up to the next column in the mid-
dle of the building. Fred and Will stepped over to the columns on
either side behind John. Grace had their backs.
There was a flicker on his motion sensor—just ahead. It
vanished.
John held up his hand. Blue Team froze.
His motion detector was clear ... but there had been some-
thing there.
He pulled out a frag grenade.
The transient contact was back—a shadow moved around the
same pillar John used for cover. It moved faster than an Elite—
as fast as John.
He fired his rifle point blank into the shadowy silhouette. It
didn't slow—it only howled with rage.
Will and Fred fired three-round bursts from their rifles into the
creature. It flinched with each bullet impact.
Three explosions detonated behind them. Grace's biosign
alarm shrilled and flashed on John's heads-up display.
"Ambush!" Will cried out.
The creature Cortana had called a "Brute" stepped from the
shadows and faced John. It was taller than an Elite—wider and
more muscular. Its mouth was lined with razor-sharp teeth, and
its red eyes burned with hate. Its blue-gray skin was riddled with
bullet holes.
The Brute tackled John, knocking his weapon from his grasp.