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But the sea was too rough, waves crashed down on the raft, and broke it apart. Swells lifted Keyes up, others pushed him down, and the final darkness beckoned. But then, just as the ocean was about to consume him, Keyes became aware of the one thing the creature that raped his mind couldn’t consume: the CNI transponder’s carrier wave.
He reached for it like a drowning man, clutched the lifeline with all his might, and refused to let go. For here, deep within his watery grave, was a thread that led back to what he had been.
Keyes, Jacob. Captain. Service number 01928-19912-JK.
The Master Chief fired the last of his shotgun rounds into the collapsed hulk of a combat form. It twitched and lay still.
After winding through the confusion of subterranean chambers and passageways for what seemed like hours, he’d finally found a lift to the surface. He carefully tapped the activation panel—worried for a moment that this lift would also drop him deeper into the facility—and felt the lift lurch into a rapid ascent.
As the lift climbed, Foehammer’s worried voice crackled from his comm system.
“This is Echo 419. Chief, is that you? I lost your signal when you disappeared inside the structure. What’s going on down there? I’m tracking movement all over the place.”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” the Master Chief replied, his voice grim, “and believe me: you don’t want to know. Be advised: Captain Keyes is missing, and is most likely KIA. Over.”
“Roger that,”the pilot replied.“I’m sorry to hear it, over.”
The lift jerked to a halt, the Spartan stepped off, and found himself surrounded by Marines. Not the shambling combat forms he’d spent the last eternity fighting, but normal, unchanged human beings. “Good to see you, Chief,” a Corporal said.
The Chief cut the soldier off. “There’s no time for that, Marine. Report.”
The young Marine gulped, then started talking. “After we lost contact we headed for the RV point, and thesethings , they ambushed us. Sir: Advise we get thehell out of here, ASAP.”
“That’s command thinking, Corporal,” the Chief replied. “Let’s go.”
It was a short walk up the ramp and into the rain. Strangely, and much to his surprise, it felt good to enter the stinking swamp.Very good indeed.
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CHAPTER NINE
D+60:33:54 (Flight Officer Captain Rawley Mission Clock) /
Pelican Echo 419, above Covenant arms cache.
“There’s a large tower a few hundred meters from your current position. Find a way above the fog and foliage canopy and I can move in and pick you up,” Rawley said. Her eyes were glued to her scopes as SPARTAN-117 took the lead and the Marines left the ancient complex and entered the fetid embrace of the swamp. The rain and some kind of interference from the structure played hell with the Pelican’s detection gear, but she was damned if she was going to lose this team now. She had a reputation to maintain, after all.
“Roger that,”the Chief replied,“we’re on our way.”