Matthew Reilly - Area 7

"--ALL UNITS, BE AWARE, DELTA UNIT HAS ENGAGED THE

enemy--" one of the radio men in the control room said.

"Repeat, Delta Unit has engaged the enemy--"

shane schofield tried not to breathe, tried not to make a sound.

Area 7 93

All they had to do was look over the edge.

He was hanging by his fingertips from one of the horizontal

cabling gutters carved into the concrete wall of the elevator

shaft, a bare three feet below the mouth of the

cross-vent he had been standing in only moments before.

Standing in that cross-vent right now were the four

heavily armed 7th Squadron men who had stormed it only

seconds earlier.

Beside him, Mother, Gant and Brainiac were also clinging

to the cabling gutter with their fingers.

Above them, they could hear one of the 7th Squadron

men speaking into his helmet mike.

"Charlie Six, this is Charlie One, they're not in the

Level 1 cross-vent. Copy that, we're on our way."

Heavy footsteps, then nothing.

Schofield sighed with relief.

"Where to now?" Brainiac asked.

"There," Schofield said, jerking his chin at the giant

steel hangar door on the opposite side of the wide elevator

shaft.

"YOU READY?" BOOK II YELLED TO ELVIS.

"Ready!" Elvis shouted back.

Book II looked out at the big white-painted Volvo towing

vehicle attached to the tail boom of Nighthawk Two ten

yards away. With its oversized tires, low-slung body and

small two-man driver's cabin, it looked like either a brick on

wheels or a giant cockroach. Indeed, it was this resemblance

that had earned the towing vehicle the nickname "cockroach"

among airport workers around the world.

At the moment, Nighthawk Two's cockroach was facing

outwards, pointed at the armor-plated titanium door that had

thundered down into place only minutes earlier, sealing the

hangar.

Book II was now holding two nickel-plated Berettas in

his hands, one his own, the other pilfered from a dead Marine

nearby. He shouted to Elvis, "You take the wheel! I'll

go for the other side!"

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Matthew Reilly

"You got it!"

"Okay! Now."

The two of them leapt to their feet and dashed out into

the open together, their legs moving in time.

Almost instantly, a line of bullets raced across the

ground behind them, nipping at their heels.

Elvis flung himself into the driver's seat, slammed the

door shut behind him. Book II made for the passenger side,

but he was met with a brutal volley of gunfire, so instead he

just dived onto the towing vehicle's flat steel roof and yelled,

"Elvis! Punch it!"

Elvis keyed the ignition. The Volvo's big 600horsepower

engine roared to life. Then Elvis jammed it into gear

and floored it.

The towing vehicle's tires squealed as they shot off the

mark, heading straight for the armored door that cut the

hangar off from the outside world, taking Nighthawk Two,

a full-sized CH-53E Super Stallion transport helicopter,

with it!

The two remaining units of 7th Squadron men in the

hangar--twenty men in total--swept across the hangar on

foot, pursuing the speeding cockroach with their guns.

A wave of supercharged bullets pummeled the big

Volvo's sides.

Elvis yanked on the steering wheel and the big cockroach

swung around, rocketing toward the southern glass

walled office.

On its roof, Book II raised himself on one knee and fired

both his pistols at the oncoming 7th Squadron commandos.

It didn't do much good--the Air Force assassins had

him outgunned. It was like attacking a battery of Patriot missiles

with a peashooter. He ducked back behind the cockroach's

cabin amid a flurry of return fire.

"Oh, crap!" Elvis shouted from the driver's cabin.

Book II looked up.

A lone 7th Squadron commando stood about thirty

yards in front of them--right in their path--on the southern

Area 7 95

side of the central elevator shaft, with a Predator antitank

rocket launcher hefted onto his shoulder!

The commando pulled the trigger.

There was a puff of smoke before a small cylindrical

object came blasting out of the launcher, shooting toward

the speeding cockroach at phenomenal speed, leaving a

dead-straight vapor trail in the air behind it.

Elvis reacted quickly, did the only thing he could think

to do.

He yanked his steering wheel hard to the left.

The massive Volvo towing vehicle rose onto two wheels

as it swung violently left--and for a moment it looked like it

was going to drive straight into the yawning chasm that was

the elevator shaft.

But it just kept turning ... turning ... wheels screeching

... until suddenly it was heading north, along the narrow

section of floor in between Marine One and the elevator

shaft.

Nighthawk Two wasn't so lucky.

Since it was bouncing along--in reverse--behind the

runaway cockroach, Elvis's sudden turn had brought it directly

into the missile's line of fire.

The Predator hit it, slamming into Nighthawk Two's reinforced

glass cockpit at tremendous speed.

The result was nothing short of spectacular.

The whole front section of the CH-53E Super Stallion

exploded magnificently--blasting out in an instant, showering

the area behind the quickly moving helicopter with glass

and twisted metal, leaving the chopper with a jagged metal hole where the glass bubble of its cockpit was supposed to be!

The impact of the missile had also destroyed the landing

wheels under the nose of the chopper. So now the giant

helicopter was being hauled behind Elvis's towing vehicle

with its nose--or what was left of it--dragging wildly on

the floor, kicking up sparks.

"Elvis!" Book II yelled. "Go for the elevator! The regular

elevator!"

Matthew Reilly

The 7th Squadron soldiers dived out of the way as the

speeding cockroach thundered in among them, wildly out of

control.

Elvis saw the elevator doors off to his right, and yanked

the steering wheel hard over. The cockroach responded,

swinging right, cutting the corner of the aircraft elevator

shaft--so that for the briefest of moments, Book II, partially

hanging off the roof of the vehicle, saw nothing but a wide

chasm of emptiness falling away beneath him.

Three seconds later, the cockroach--with the semi

destroyed helicopter behind it--skidded to a squealing halt

right in front of the elevator doors on the northern side of the

hangar.

Book II leapt off the top of the big Volvo and hit the call

button, Elvis joining him, when suddenly two armed men

leapt over the big towing vehicle behind them.

Book II spun, snapping his guns up, triggers half-pulled.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" one of the armed men said,

holding his pistol up.

"Easy, Sergeant," the other one said calmly. "We're

with you."

Book II eased back on his triggers.

They were Marines.

The first was Sergeant Ashley Lewicky, an extraordinarily

ugly career sergeant with a thick monobrow, battered pug

nose, and mile-wide grin. Short and stout, his call-sign was a

slam dunk: "Love Machine." Of roughly equal age and rank,

he and Elvis had been buddies for years.

The second Marine, however, couldn't have been more

different from Love Machine. Tall and handsome in a clean

cut kind of way, he was a twenty-nine-year-old captain

named Tom Reeves. A promising young officer, he'd been

tagged for rapid promotion. Indeed, he'd already been promoted