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CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
1820 hours, September 13,2552 (revised date,
Military Calendar)\Aboard Covenant battle station
Unyielding Hierophant.
The Master Chief accelerated his Banshee to its top speed.
There was another explosion at the temple, and plumes of
steam geysered into the air from the heat-exchange plant. The
circling formations of Banshees scattered.
John tucked as close as he could to his flier's fuselage and
coaxed every bit of speed from the craft.
A pair of Banshees swooped in, one off his port, the other on
his starboard. Their plasma weapons heated; John rolled back
and forth to throw their aim. He braced for impact... but there
was none.
The Chief craned his head back and saw the pilot of the lead
Banshee slump, slide offthe flier, and plummet to the ground. The
trailing Banshee was riderless as well... only a blood-spattered
cockpit and cowling.
Linda still had him covered—had taken out both pilots with
precise fire. She had to be close.
John scanned the area. There were spires and water-reclamation
towers, transport tubes and catwalks that crisscrossed the center of
the interior. There was a nexus of walkways near the beam of il-
lumination that ran down the center of the station, a location with
enough glare that a sniper might hide in the open undetected.
He risked keying Linda's private COM channel. "Thought
you might need a ride, so I—"
An energy mortar blasted over John's shoulder, burning the
air like a sun in close orbit and draining his shields to half. It