第14页

　　A  gravity  lift  connected  the  ship  to  the  surface  of  Reach,  and  troops  poured  out—thousands  of  them:  legions  of  Grunts,  three  full  squadrons  of  Elites  piloting  Banshees,  plus  at  least  a  dozen  Wraith  tanks.
　　It  didn't  make  much  sense,  though.  Why  didn't  the  cruiser  get  closer  and  open  fire?  Or  did  the  Covenant  think  there  might  be  another  air  strike?  The  Covenant  never  hesitated  during  an  as?sault  ...  but  the  fact  that  he  was  still  alive  meant  that  the  enemy's  rules  of  engagement  had  somehow  changed.
　　Fred  wasn't  sure  why  the  Covenant  were  being  so  cautious,  but  he'd  take  the  break.  It  would  give  him  time  to  figure  out  how  to  stop  them.  If  the  Spartans  were  mobile,  they  might  be  able  to  engage  a  force  that  size  with  hit-and-run  tactics.  Holding  a  fixed  position  was  another  story  altogether.
　　"Updates  every  ten  minutes,"  he  told  Joshua.  His  voice  was  suddenly  tight  and  dry.
　　"Roger  that."
　　"Red-Two?  Any  progress  on  that  SATCOM  uplink?"
　　"Negative,  sir,"  Kelly  muttered,  tension  thickening  her  voice.  She  had  been  tasked  with  patching  Charlie  Company's  bullet-ridden  communications  pack.  "There  are  battle  reports  jamming  the  entire  spectrum,  but  from  what  I  can  make  out  the  fight  up?stairs  isn't  going  well.  They  need  this  generator  up—no  matter  what  it's  going  to  cost  us."
　　22
　　HALO:  FIRST  STRIKE
　　"Understood,"  Fred  said.  "Keep  me—"
　　"Wait.  Incoming  transmission  to  Charlie  Company  from  Reach  HighCom."
　　HighCom?  Fred  thought  headquarters  on  Reach  had  been  overrun.  "Verification  codes?"
　　"They  check  out,"  Kelly  replied.
　　"Patch  it  through."
　　"Charlie  Company?  Jake?  What  the  hell  is  the  holdup  there?  Why  haven  'tyou  gotten  my  men  out  yet?"
　　"This  is  Senior  Petty  Officer  SPARTAN-104,  Red  Team  leader,"  Fred  replied,  "now  in  charge  of  Charlie  Company.  Identify  yourself."
　　"Put  Lieutenant  Chapman  on,  Spartan,"  an  irritated  voice  snapped.
　　"That's  not  possible,  sir,"  Fred  told  him,  instinctively  realizing  that  he  spoke  to  an  officer  and  adding  the  honorific.  "Except  for  four  wounded  Marines,  Charlie  Company  is  gone."
　　There  was  a  long  static-filled  pause.  "Spartan,  listen  to  me  very  carefully.  This  is  Vice  Admiral  Danforth  Whitcomb,  Deputy  Chief  of  Naval  Operations.  Do  you  know  who  lam,  son?"
　　"Yes,  sir,"  Fred  said,  wincing  as  the  Admiral  identified  him?self.  If  the  Covenant  were  eavesdropping  on  this  transmission,  the  senior  officer  had  just  made  himself  a  giant  target.
　　"My  staff  and  I  are  pinned  down  in  a  gully  southeast  of  where  HighCom  used  to  be,"  Whitcomb  continued.  "Get  your  team  over  here  and  extract  us,  on  the  double."
　　"Negative,  sir,  I  cannot  do  that.  I  have  direct  orders  to  protect  the  generator  complex  powering  the  orbital  guns."
　　"I'm  countermanding  those  orders,"  the  Admiral  barked.  "As  of  two  hours  ago,  I  have  tactical  command  of  the  defense  of  Reach.  Now,  I  don't  care  if  you  're  a  Spartan  or  Jesus  Christ  walking  down  the  damned  Big  Horn  River—/  am  giving  you  a  direct  order.  Acknowledge,  Spartan."
　　If  Admiral  Whitcomb  was  now  in  charge  of  the  defense,  then  a  lot  of  the  senior  brass  had  been  put  out  of  commission  when  HQ  got  hit.