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82
HALO: FIRST STRIKE
The trap was set; all he needed now was bait.
He set a plasma grenade on the far wall of the shaft and trig-
gered it.
He pushed into the corridor, fast. Four seconds to go. The
gravity, still active in this portion of the ship, pulled him to the
deck. He melted into the shadows and sprinted along the wall
two meters farther in, and halted along the inside of the first sup-
port brace. Three seconds.
One Grunt emitted a startled cry and a plasma shot sizzled
down the center of the hallway.
Two seconds.
The Master Chief pried the Engineer off his shoulder and
pressed the creature firmly into the join where the brace meet
the wall.
One second.
The Engineer squirmed for a moment, then stilled, perhaps
sensing what was about to happen.
The plasma grenade detonated. A flash of intense light
flooded the hallway and the room beyond.
The rest of the Grunts cried out; plasma bolts and a hail of
crystalline needles filled the passage, impacting inside the ele-
vator shaft.
The Grunts ceased fire. A lone Grunt cautiously stepped out
from behind a crate and crept forward. It gave a barking, nervous
laugh and then, encountering no resistance, waddled down the
passage toward the elevator.
Four more Grunts followed, and they passed the Master Chief,
oblivious that he hid behind the wall brace less than a half-meter
from them.
They approached the elevator, sniffed, and entered.
There was the gentle ping as the frag grenade rings pulled free
of the trip wire.
The Master Chief covered the Engineer.
One of the Grunts squealed, high and panicky. They all turned
and ran.
Twin blasts of thunder enveloped the elevator shaft. Bits of
meat and metal spattered along the corridor.
A needier skidded to a halt a meter away. It was cracked, its