* * * *
The Admiral lifted his communicator to his face. “Everyone ready? Then let’s give them hell!”
A hail of bullets ripped across the reception area from three different directions as the marines laid down a blanket of suppressing fire. There was a large detonation as the turret control nexus went up in a ball of flame, bringing a large section of the ceiling crashing down, sending dust and smoke in all directions. The intelligence analyst kicked the grill out and dropped into the auxiliary control room. The Admiral was about to follow when he stopped him.
“No sir, I’ll operate the fire control panel. You’ll have a better chance to escape, if you drop out the next service hatch, it's closer to the main doors.”
The Admiral passed him the pack Tasha had been carrying, along with the spare pistol. “Then I guess you’ll be needing these more than us. Give it a couple minutes them activate the fire alarm. Good luck.”
“Don’t worry about me sir, someone has to stay and help co-ordinate the resistance. General order one, evacuate, regroup, resist. Now go before the dust settles.” he said dropping the pack on the table beside him and smashing open the fire control panel with the pistol butt.
The Admiral nodded and urged Tasha to move up the crawl space as quickly as possible. They’d barely reached the hatch when the fire alarms sounded and an automated voice urged them to leave the building in an orderly fashion. Followed by another volley of gunfire and a series of sharp explosive cracks as several grenades detonated in quick succession. He kicked the grill out and dropped onto the floor below. Behind him was a confused mass of smoke, dust, fire and steam, as what was left of the fire suppression system kicked in. The hiss of cold water on flames intermixed with sporadic gunfire. The blast doors had retracted and he could see the early morning sun rising above the mountains that over-looked the capital. The first blood red rays of dawn illuminating its streets. Smoke slowly rising from the various government buildings, dotted across the city, in the still morning air. Tasha tossed their last remaining rifle to him then jumped down after him. He tried not to think about the cabin in the mountains, high above them, that he was leaving behind as they ran out onto the deserted concourse.
“Shuttle Pad five, third on the left.” he yelled as they race towards the landing area off to the left. Suddenly an automated fuel bowser, spluttered into life and began to accelerate toward them. “Keep running, the shuttle access code is niner, niner, five, six, three.”
He put the rifle to his shoulder squinting into the sight and shot out the tires. The vehicle skidded crazily out of control before jack-knifing over onto its side and slamming into a small government shuttle parked off to the right. It split the fuselage in two. The bowsers tank ruptured, spilling it contents. Sending rivulets of fuel snaking across the cold, cracked tarmac, amid the shorting electrics of the wreckage. He tossed the rifle aside and followed Tasha into his shuttle, slamming the door shut behind him and slid into the pilot’s seat.
“Buckle up.” he told her as he flicked various switches to prime the ancient crafts primary fuel injectors and fired up the engine. Engaging the shuttles VTOL mode as they slowly rose into the air.
Tasha looked around the cabin in amazement, key-code access, switches, gages, dials, buttons, knobs, an assortment of electro-mechanical controls. It wasn’t a shuttle, it was a museum piece. He pulled the nose back, pushed the throttle forward, and hit the afterburners blasting them into the sky. The G forces of the sudden acceleration pushing them back into their seat as the shuttle groaned and rattled around them. The exhaust from the afterburners igniting the fuel vapours from the broken fuel bowser into a ball of flame. Thick black arid smoke billowing around them before they erupted from it and headed towards space.
Tasha felt like her teeth were going to fall out, the vibrations increasing as they approached the outer edge of the atmosphere. Then suddenly they ceased, everything became still, they had broken free of their earthly bonds and were in outer space. He killed the engines and activated his communicator.
“Viqaas status report.”
“Good to hear your voice Admiral, Mendez has recovered the crew members and their families from the party. They were put into lockdown when the balloon went up. Not so good elsewhere I’m afraid. The hub crew got cut up pretty bad. Reynolds is evacuating the survivors from the hubs sick bay and were ready to blow the docking clamp,s as soon as you’re on board. Hanger three is open for you. ”
“Roger that. I’ve cut the engines and I’m going to glide her in to avoid detection.”
Exiles Page 11
