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ERIC NYLUND
319
John, Fred, and Will raised their rifles.
There was a muted crack of a sniper rifle, and another Ban-
shee drifted to the ground, its pilot felled by Linda's uncanny
skill.
The last remaining pilot veered starboard, not knowing what
had just taken out its two wingmates ... only that it had to get
out of the area if it was going to live. In the tightest arc of its
curve, the craft slowed. John couldn't tell precisely where the
shot came from, but a third sniper round ricocheted through the
craft's cockpit. The Banshee spun in circles before it thumped to a
halt, nose-down in the street.
Three impossible shots, three kills. Even for Linda, this was
superb shooting—the finest shots John had ever seen. He looked
around the station, over the buildings, spires, catwalks, transit
tubes—it was impossible to spot her.
John waved Fred and Will toward two of the downed Ban-
shees and sprinted toward the one still spinning riderless in the
street, its canards scraping and sparking along the stones.
He climbed aboard, pushed the throttle forward, and pointed
to the far wall. He held his hand flat and lowered it, indicating
that Fred and Will should skim low to the ground.
John veered off in a wide arc. Maybe he could divert the atten-
tion away from them.
He rose slightly higher and buzzed the tops of gilt domes and
statues of Elite heroes with raised swords. Grunts and Jackals
scattered as he approached, and John fired at them. He shifted to
the side as he splashed though water falling from one side of the
station to the other.
Four Banshee fliers fell in behind him. John weaved back and
forth. A pair of plasma bolts sizzled over his head.
He risked a look over his shoulder and saw two of the Ban-
shees drop away. A moment later they crashed into the surface.
Linda still had his back covered.
He dropped to the ground and skimmed along a street, skid-
ded, and turned into an alley. Banshee shadows passed overhead.
He pushed the throttle to full and made a direct run toward the
back wall.
Will and Fred had grounded their fliers and crouched next to
the meter-thick window separating this inner section from the