第83页

　　Fred  peered  inside  and  saw  a  rack  of  handguns.  They  weren't  the  standard-issue  HE  pistols;  these  had  oversized  barrels—  easily  30  percent  larger  and  longer—and  they  had  grips  of  self-molding  plastasteel.  He  picked  one  up  and  hefted  it—its  balance  was  barrel-heavy,  to  be  expected  from  an  unloaded  pistol.  He  found  three  boxes  of  clips  at  the  bottom  of  the  locker,  opened  one,  and  took  out  a  clip.  Whatever  this  new  handgun  shot,  it  was  high  caliber,  slugs  the  size  of  his  thumb.  He  slid  the  clip  into  the  gun,  and  it  secured  with  a  satisfying  click.
　　Now  it  was  perfectly  balanced,  far  better  than  the  standard-issue  sidearm.
　　He  secured  the  weapon  and  turned  to  see  what  Will  had  found.
　　Will  examined  a  plastic-wrapped  rifle.  He  removed  the  rifle  from  the  locker,  ripped  off  its  sheathing,  and  shouldered  it.  He  nodded  with  satisfaction.
　　Unlike  the  MA5B,  this  rifle  had  a  longer  barrel  and  stock,  with  a  cutdown  muzzle  shroud.  A  scope  was  mounted  on  an  op?tics  railing  along  the  top  of  the  rifle.  Will  hefted  a  clip  and  in?serted  it  into  the  receiver.
　　He  shouldered  the  rifle  again  and  peered  through  the  scope.  "Auto  zoom,  nice."
　　Will  and  Fred  then  traded  and  inspected  the  new  weapons.  Fred  liked  the  feel  of  this  new  rifle,  but  wondered  how  much  punch  it  had—enough,  he  hoped,  to  make  the  trade-off  of  having  fewer  rounds  in  the  clip  worth  it.
　　They  filled  two  sacks  with  the  new  pistols,  rifles,  and  ammu?nition,  then  moved  to  the  footlockers  and  lifted  the  lids.
　　134 HALO:  FIRST  STRIKE
　　Inside  the  first  locker  were  satchel  charges.  Fred  grabbed  three  and  looped  them  over  his  neck.  "I  think  we  can  find  a  use  for  these."
　　Will  knelt  next  to  the  second  footlocker.  Within  were  plastic  boxes  marked  MJOLNIR  MARK  V  followed  by  a  long  list  of  serial  numbers.  "This  must  be  what  Doctor  Halsey  wanted,"  he  said.
　　There  was  a  flutter  in  the  floor—which  got  Fred's  full  atten?tion,  because  a  "flutter"  in  a  solid  steel  floor  meant  trouble.
　　The  COM  channel  opened,  and  Dr.  Halsey's  voice  crackled  with  static:  "Get  back  to  the  lab  ASAP.  I  might  have  a  way  out.  Quickly!"
　　The  vault  room  flexed,  and  thunder  rumbled  through  the  walls.
　　"Detonations,"  Will  said.  "They're  coming."
　　"Secure  those  boxes,"  Fred  ordered.  He  raced  to  the  closed  doors.  "Open,"  he  shouted  to  Kalmiya  and  waited  as  the  door  slowly  eased  apart.  He  scanned  up  and  down  the  corridor  and  then  ran  back  toward  the  lab.
　　When  they  got  to  the  medical  wing  the  lights  were  dead,  and  Fred  saw  Kelly's  helmet  lights  cut  through  the  velvet-rich,  dust-filled  darkness.  She  had  Dr.  Halsey  draped  over  her  shoulder.  Blood  ran  from  the  doctor's  nostrils.
　　"Her  office  collapsed,"  Kelly  told  them.  "Support  beam  missed  her  by  a  centimeter."
　　Dr.  Halsey  looked  up  and  whispered,  "I'm  fine.  Really."  She  pushed  away  from  Kelly,  stood,  and  teetered  in  place.
　　Fred  scooped  her  up  and  set  her  on  the  examination  table.  "With  all  due  respect,  ma'am,  you're  not."
　　Another  detonation  rippled  through  the  earth—this  one  stronger  than  the  previous  explosion.  Fissures  snaked  through  the  con?crete  walls.