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.They grabbed nearby sub-machine guns but Casca was already squeezing the trigger of the Koch & Heckler, sending slugs across the control room, tearing holes in the bodies of the Brotherhood men who were spinning and twisting in pain and shock from the bullets plowing into and through them.Even though he was using the single shot selector, he was shooting too fast for the helpless enemy to react.He also didn’t want to spray bullets all over the consoles as he needed them for the next few seconds.The commander cursed and grabbed for his pistol but Casca swung the muzzle of his gun to the side and sent two bullets through his chest, shattering ribs, puncturing lungs and sending his chest cavity exploding into red fountains.The smell of cordite filled Casca’s nostrils as he surveyed the scene before him.Five men lay dead or dying.He moved swiftly to the central computer and slid the CD panel open.There was a disc there already but he threw that out and it clattered onto the floor behind him.He slid the one Danny had given him in and pushed it shut.The screen above it went blank for a moment, then began to spew up lines and lines of commands and something to do with file names and the like, but it scrolled far too fast for Casca to read it, and if he had been able to he’d probably not understood what the hell it meant.Time to go.He made for the door and coded it open.Locke was still there and Casca blocked his view of the room behind.The door began to slide shut as he spoke to the guard.“None the wiser.I’ve gotta go to medical center.They think I’ve picked up some kinda bug.”“The pox?”Casca laughed.“No chance of that.Not had the opportunity recently.Too many ops.”“Hear you there, bud,” Locke nodded.Then he sniffed the air.“What the heck?” he exclaimed as he detected the smell of cordite.Casca struck out viciously, catching the unfortunate Locke in the guts, and then as he folded over, chopped him across the neck.He lowered the unconscious man gently to the floor, then trotted off down the passageway.He turned right, then found the narrow stairs and climbed up, round and round up the floors until he got close to the roof.It had gone too well and he heard voices ahead.“That’s far enough,” someone barked.“Put your hands up.I don’t know what you think you are up to but you ain’t supposed to be here.”Casca guessed the other two had run out of luck.He peered round the corner and saw the open elevator, the bed jammed in the doorway, and Danny and Hayley standing with hands on heads, covered by two men while a third, clearly a colonel, standing in the center, examining their fake I.D.s.Casca crept carefully along the corridor, keeping silent on his rubber soled boots, and made his way up to the nearest guard.The guard lost interest in covering the two suspects as a warm suppressor suddenly pressed against his neck.“Drop it, bud, or you get sprayed over the wall.”The colonel whirled and Casca could see him quickly working out how to overcome the new problem.Casca didn’t let him gain the initiative.“Frisk this jerk,” he snapped to Hayley.She stepped forward, took his pistol and frisked him one-handed, the pistol against his teeth.“Turn round,” she commanded.The colonel reluctantly did so.Casca got the two others to drop their guns and kicked them across to the elevator.They vanished into the space beyond the doors and Danny pressed the buttons to send it to the basement.“Okay,” Casca snapped, “let’s go for a walk.” He got Danny to push Goldman along to the ladder that led to the roof.Goldman was untied and Danny lifted him up, grunting with the effort.The colonel and the two guards lined up against the wall, Casca covering them, and Hayley opened the hatch at the top of the ladder.There, she hesitated a second as she took in the sleek appearance of the jet black Sikorsky MH-60L Black Hawk Direct Action Penetrator, the Special Operations modified MH-60L.The aircraft sported a pair of M230 chain gun 30mm automatic cannon and 70mm rocket pods on each wing with M134D mini-guns protruding from each side of the fuselage.The momentary reflection over, she sprang out and made for the four-bladed beast she considered a thing of beauty.Danny went next, slowly, struggling, but he eventually did it.Casca grinned at the three men.“Now, let’s try to break the world record for running back to operations, shall we? Who wants to be Usain Bolt?”The three men edged away from the gun-toting man and watched as he began to climb the ladder [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]