She had only registered the diversion in the rear as some kind of bonus. Teeth clenched and dark eyes enormous, Sandra was out of communication, on a one-to-one link with her control gear and self-hypnotised to get the clumsy truck up the ramp and out. Helena Russell was thumping the driver’s arm. Koenig was sitting cross-legged, swearing in a monotone and shoving a pad inside his jacket. Then he was on his knees beside the Alphan commander. A thump like a mule kick hit the Alphan high in the left shoulder and spun him round.Īlan Carter, who had followed Koenig to the same cover, raked the Copreon from navel to throat and saw him reel off the edge, a bisected man. A guard who had run up the ramp to the hoist platform, saw the move and fired from the hip. Koenig waited a fraction overlong to see him fall. The Copreon pitched down face forward, fingers tightening on the trigger of his carbine for a long continuous burst that loosed a swarm of ricochets round the set. Standing up and using his left hand to steady his right wrist, he fired half the length of the cavern, aiming for the centre of the target. From where he was he could see the exit, where a guard was taking aim down the aisle at the oncoming truck. Koenig threw himself behind the cowling of a generator and took stock. Ricochets from the rock face notched up the noise level.
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