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“You could have killed them,” Cortana said. “Why didn’t you?”
“My orders gave me permission to ‘neutralize’ threats,” he replied. “They aren’t threats anymore.”
“Semantics,” Cortana replied. She sounded amused. “I can’t argue with the results, though—” She brokeoff, suddenly. “New targets. Seven contacts on the motion tracker,” Cortana reported. “We’resurrounded.”
Seven more soldiers. The Master Chief could open fire now and kill them all. Under any othercircumstances, he would have removed such threats. But their MA5Bs were no immediate danger tohim . . . and the UNSC could use every soldier to fight the Covenant.
He strode to the center pole of the tent, and with a yank, he pulled it free. As the roof fluttered down, he
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slashed a slit in the tent fabric and shoved through.
He faced three Marines; they fired—the Master Chief deftly jumped to one side. He sprang toward themand lashed out with the steel pole, swiped out their legs. He heard bones crack—followed by screams ofpain.
The Master Chief turned as the tent finished collapsing. The remaining four men could see him now.One reached for a grenade on his belt. The other three tracked him with their assault rifles.
The Master Chief threw the pole like a javelin at the man with the grenade. It impacted in his sternumand he fell with awhoopf.
The grenade, minus the pin, however, dropped to the ground.
The Master Chief moved and kicked the grenade. It arced over the parking lot and detonated in a cloudof smoke and shrapnel.
The three remaining Marines opened fire—spraying bullets in a full-auto fusillade. Bullets pinged offthe Master Chief’s shield.
The shield status indicator blinked and dropped with each bullet impact—the sustained weapons fire wasdraining the shield precipitously. John tucked and rolled, narrowly avoiding an incoming burst ofautomatic-weapons fire, then sprang at the nearest Marine.
John launched an openhanded strike at the man’s chest. The Marine’s ribs caved in and he droppedwithout a sound, blood flowing from his mouth. John spun, brought his rifle up, and fired twice.
The second soldier screamed and dropped his rifle as the bullets tore through each knee. John kicked thediscarded rifle, bending the barrel and rendering the weapon useless.
The last man stood frozen in place.
The Master Chief didn’t give the man time to recover; he grabbed his rifle, ripped off his bandolier ofgrenades, then punched his helmet. The Marine dropped.
“Mission time plus twenty-two seconds,” Cortana remarked. “Although, technically, you started to moveforty milliseconds before you were ordered to.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
The Master Chief slung the assault rifle and bandolier of grenades over his shoulder and ran for the
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shadows of the barracks. He slipped under the raised buildings and belly-crawled toward the obstaclecourse. No need to make himself a target for snipers . . . although it would be an interesting test to seewhat caliber of bullet these shields could deflect.