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Careful to weave back and forth between the pillars in order to improve his time, he rolled through a fight between the Flood and a group of Covenant, took fire from a flock of Sentinels, and gunned the LRV out into another open area with a barrier ahead. A quick glance confirmed that another elevated ramp ran down the left side of the enormous passageway, so he steered for that.
Explosions sent gouts of flame and smoke up through the grating ahead of him, and threatened to heave the Warthog off the track.
Once off the ramp, things became a little easier as the Spartan entered a large tunnel, sped the length of it, braked into an open area, and pushed the vehicle down into a smaller service tunnel. Infection forms made loud popping sounds as the tires ate them alive. The engine growled, and the Chief nearly lost it as he came out of the tunnel too fast, realized there was another subsurface passageway ahead, and did a nose-over that caused the front wheels not only to hit hard but nearly flipped the ’Hog end-for-end. Only some last-minute braking and a measure of good luck brought the LRV down right side up and allowed the Master Chief to climb up out of the passageway and into a maze of pillars.
He swore as he was forced to wind his way between the obstacles while precious seconds came off the countdown clock and every alien, freak, and robot with a weapon took potshots at him while he did so. Then came a welcome stretch of straight-level pavement, a quick dip through a service tunnel, and a ramp into a sizable tunnel as Cortana called for evac.
“Cortana to Echo 419! Requesting extraction now! On the double!”
“Affirmative, Cortana,”the pilot replied, as the Master Chief accelerated out onto a causeway.
“Wait! Stop!” Cortana insisted. “This is where Foehammer is coming to pick us up. Hold position here.”
The Spartan braked, heard a snatch of garbled radio traffic, and saw a UNSC dropship approach from the left. Smoke trailed behind the Pelican and the reason was plain to see. A Banshee had slotted itself in behind the transport and was trying to hit one of the ship’s engines. There was a flash as the starboard power plant took a hit and burst into flames.
The Chief could imagine Foehammer at the controls, fighting to save her ship, eyeing the causeway ahead.
“Pull up! Pull up!” the Spartan shouted, hoping she could pancake in, but it was too late. The Pelican lost altitude, passed under the causeway, and soon disappeared from sight. The explosion came three seconds later.
Cortana said, “Echo 419!” and, receiving no response, said, “She’s gone.”
The Master Chief remembered the cheerful voice on the radio, the countless times the pilot had saved somebody’s tail, and felt a deep sense of regret.
There was a short pause while the AI tapped into what remained of the ship’s systems. “There’s a Longsword docked in launch bay seven. If we movenow we can make it!”
Rubber screeched as the Chief put his foot to the floor, steered the Warthog through a hatch, down a ramp, and into a tunnel. Huge pillars marked the center of the passageway and a series of concave gratings caused the LRV to wallow before it lurched up onto smooth pavement again. Explosions sent debris flying from both sides of the tunnel and made it difficult to hear Cortana as she said something about “full speed” and some sort of a gap.