"3 - First Strike" - читать интересную книгу автора (Halo ebooks txt)

She had always been faster, damn her.
"Denied," the Master Chief said. "I'll be leading that one.
"Linda and James," he continued. "You're with me. Fred,
you're Red Team leader. You'll have tactical command of the
ground operation."
"Sir!" Fred shouted and started to voice a protestЧthen
squelched it. Now wasn't the time to question orders.. . as much
as he wanted to. "Yes, sir!"
"Now make ready," the Master Chief said. "We don't have
much time left."
The Spartans stood a moment. Kelly called out, "Attention!"
The soldiers snapped to and gave the Master Chief a crisp salute,
which was promptly returned.
Fred switched to Red Team's all-hands freq and barked, "Let's
move, Spartans! I want gear stowed in ninety seconds, and final
ERIC NYLUND 5
prep in five minutes. Joshua: Liaise with Cortana and get me
current intel on the drop areaЧI don't care if it's just weather
satellite imagery, but I want pictures, and I want them ninety
seconds ago."
Red Team jumped into action.
The pre-mission jitters were gone, replaced with a cold calm.
There was a job to do, and Fred was eager to get to work.
Flight Officer Mitchell flinched as a stray energy burst streaked
into the landing bay and vaporized a meter-wide section of bulkhead.
Red-hot, molten metal splattered the Pelican dropship's
viewport.
Screw this, he thought, and hit the Pelican's thrusters. The
gunmetal-green transport balanced for a moment on a column of
blue-white fire, then hurtled out of the Pillar of Autumn's launch
bay and into space. Five seconds later all hell broke loose.
Incoming energy bursts from the lead Covenant vessels cut
across their vector and slammed into a COMSat. The communications
satellite broke apart, disintegrating into glittering shards.
"Better hang on," Mitchell announced to his passengers in the
dropship's troop bay. "Company's coming."
A swarm of SeraphsЧthe Covenant's scarablike attack
fightersЧfell into tight formation and arced through space on an
intercept course for the dropship.
The Pelican's engines flared and the bulky ship plummeted
toward the surface of Reach. The alien fighters accelerated and
plasma bursts flickered from their gunports.
An energy bolt slashed past on the port side, narrowly missing
the Pelican's cockpit.
Mitchell's voice crackled across the COM system:
"Bravo-One to Knife Two-Six: I could use a little help here."
He rolled the Pelican to port to avoid a massive, twisted hunk
of wreckage from a patrol cutter that had strayed too close to the
oncoming assault wave. Beneath the blackened plasma scorches,
he could just make out the UNSC insigne. Mitchell scowled.