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A Marine said, “I didn’t know that you made house calls, Foehammer.”
The pilot chuckled.“You know our motto: ‘we deliver.’ ”
The Master Chief waited for the dropship to deposit the LRV on the beach, saw two Marines jump on board, and climbed up behind the wheel. The soldier riding shotgun nodded. “Ready when you are, Chief.”
The Spartan put his foot on the accelerator, sand shot out from under the vehicle’s tires, and the ’Hog left parallel tracks as it raced along the edge of the beach.
They rounded the headland in minutes, and entered the open area beyond. There was a scattering of trees, some weathered boulders, and a swath of green ground cover. “Firing!” the gunner called, and pulled his trigger. The petty officer saw Covenant troops scurry for cover, steered right to give the three-barreled weapon a better angle, and was soon rewarded with a batch of dead Grunts and a badly mangled Jackal.
The Spartan drove the Warthog uphill, turning to avoid obstacles, careful to maintain the vehicle’s traction. It wasn’t long before the humans neared the top of the slope and spotted the massive structure beyond. The top curved downward, cut dramatically in, and gave way to a flat area where a Covenant dropship had been docked.
It appeared that the aircraft had just finished loading: It backed out of a U-shaped slot, swung out toward the ocean, and quickly disappeared. The noise generated by its engines covered the sound made by the Warthog and provided the defenders with something to look at.
The gunner tracked the aircraft but knew better than to open fire and attract unwanted attention. The area beyond was crawling with Covenant troops. “Anyone else see whatI see?” the second leatherneck inquired. “How are we supposed to get aroundthat ?”
The Master Chief killed the ’Hog’s engine, motioned for the Marines to remain where they were, and eased his way up to a point where a fallen log offered him some cover. He drew his pistol, took aim, and opened fire. Four Grunts and an Elite fell beneath the quick barrage of gunfire.
The response was nearly instantaneous as the surviving troops ran for cover and a series of plasma bolts blew chunks of wood out of the protective log and set it ablaze.
Confident that he had whittled the opposition down to a more manageable size, the Chief eased his way back to the LRV and pulled himself up into the driver’s seat. The Marines waited to see what he would do next. “Check your weapons,” he advised, as he hit the ignition switch and the big engine roared to life. “We have some clean-up to do.”
“Roger that,” the gunner said grimly. “It looks like we have KP duty again.”
There was no telling what the Covenant troops expected the humans to do, but judging from the way they ran around screaming, the possibility of an old-fashioned frontal assault just hadn’t occurred to them.
The Spartan aimed the vehicle for the front of the complex, spotted the hallway that extended back toward the face of the cliff, and drove straight inside. It was a tight fit, and the Warthog wallowed a bit as the big off-road tires rolled over a couple of dead Grunts, but the strategy worked. Both Marines opened up on the Covenant troops and the Chief ran one of them down.