“B-but, sir, I—”
“Enough!” Silas shouted, hitting the trooper again. “Stop weeping like a caned child! Do your job, or die!”
Turning toward the Quonset hut, Silas took a single step and was violently knocked backward a full yard. Gasping for breath, his lungs feeling as if they were on fire, Silas groaned and rubbed his chest in pain, fingers recoiling as they encountered the red-hot lump of a flattened bullet. Instantly, the predark scientists realized what was happening and tried to scramble under the LAV. The boom of a high-powered rifle rolled over the complex, and a second round plowed directly into his throat, clearing the vest by an inch. Blood sprayed onto the stunned crowd of sec men, the impact knocking Silas sideways, arms flailing. The second boom arrived just as the third round punched a hole below his left eye, the entire back of his head exploding into a grisly spray of brains and bones.
Even as he fell, a fourth shot slammed into his vest again, driving the corpse backward into the exposed wiring of the transformer. His arms hit the bus bars. There was a crackle of power, and eighty thousand volts of direct current flowed through the dead man in a controlled lightning bolt. His hair burst into flames, his blood boiled into steam, eyes exploded and his clothes ignited as writhing tendrils of high voltage crawled over his twisting form.
Backing away in horror, Sheffield felt a breeze brush past his face and realized what it was before the crack of the longblaster arrived. Grabbing the closest sec man, he lifted the man off the ground and swung the blue shirt between himself and the distant hills just in time. Gasping for breath, the living shield jerked and spit out a tongue and wads of brain tissue from his mouth as two more copper-jacketed rounds arrived.
Holding the corpse up, the major moved behind the nearby LAV, then tossed it aside. Safe for the moment, he could only watch as the body of Silas Jamaisvous was slowly reduced to a grinning skeleton. For a split second, there seemed to be a circuit board riveted to the man’s skull, and then that vanished in a whoof of flames.
“In the wag!” Sheffield bellowed, thumping a fist on the armor. “Fire the chain gun at the hillside!”
“Where on the hill, sir?” a young voice asked from inside.
“Due south! Just above the ridge fence!” Then Sheffield quickly added, “But don’t open the hatch! Stay under cover!”
Blood and teeth sprayed from the turret, followed by the rolling thunder of the longblaster.
“Damn you, Ryan,” the chief blue shirt cursed, positive he knew the identity of the sniper. Who else could it be, but the man Silas so hated and feared. Suddenly, Sheffield was surprised to find a blaster in his grip, and he holstered the useless weapon. At this range he might as well throw rocks for all the good it would do. The officer wasn’t even sure the chain gun could reach the fence, but it would have been worth a try.
The crackling discharge at the transformer finally ceased as the material causing the short circuit was cleaned off the fully charged bus bars. Gray ash, charred cloth and some smoking pieces of bone sprinkled to the ground.
Then a flash of rainbow from the remains caught Sheffield’s attention, and he saw it was the computer disk Silas had refused to let him inspect. He started for the disk, then stopped himself. A single round from the sniper would also drive him into the transformer with the same results. The disk seemed undamaged, but was temporarily out of his reach.
Racing around a corner into the enclosure, a squad of armed sec men came into view. “Sir, we heard shots.” a burly sergeant started, then stopped talking as he took in the grisly sight at the transformer.
“Holy shit,” a corporal whispered, and another turned away to noisily retch.
Fists clenched, both of his hearts wildly pounding, Sheffield fought down the urge to stay where he was. But the man knew better than to demonstrate any weakness in front of the his subordinates. Victory or death. Boldly he walked from behind the transport.