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Hawk Chronicles: Prologue
Posted By: Vector40<brandon@berkeleyhigh.org>
Date: 06 August 2001, 6:17 PM


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Chronicles of the ***Silver Hawks***



Prologue

    "Four hundred meters!" bellowed Raynor Carson.
    "I know, damn it! Six seconds!"
    "Three hundred meters!"
    "Shut up, Raynor! Four seconds! There's a fucking lock on the wire!"
    "Ain't gonna matter in much longer, Wild! Two hundred!" He lifted the minigun a bit higher, twitching his finger urgently. Banning gave him a threatening glance.
    "Almost... damn... Got it!" Wilder punched a final key, and the red security lights surrounding the pad faded out. He spun, caught a catch from Hailman, turned again, and jammed a screwdriver into the circuitry. The monitor flicked out, and the massive blast door to their left slid up with a hydraulic hiss.
    The six men leapt inside. Wilder's fingers tapped out a staccato command on the interior keypad, and the door shut.
    Darkness. Pitch black.
    "Torch?"
    "No. Switch to night." Banning pulled his visor down and touched a selector. His vision glowed bright, with a faint bluish tint as he turned and checked the others.
    "Clear."
    "Move."
    Banning walked three feet, then turned and said, "Who's got it?"
    "Me," said Hackenberg, and lifted his wrist. A small darkscreen was strapped to his arm. "Straight ahead."
    "How far, for christ's sake?"
    "Just go. I'll tell you."
    Banning led the group for several minutes, until "Here. Turn left." whispered forth from behind him. He made the turn, and continued walking.
    A rustle sounded, and a black shape dropped in front of him. It stood. "Storm."
    "Banning."
    "It's all set."
    "Okay. Follow me."
    Salvador led them past three more turns, silent as a ghost. They approached a room, still darker than midnight, but in the glow of the nightvision Banning saw several figures collapsed on the floor. Salvador approached a console on the edge of the room, struck keys, and a stormdoor in the wall irised open.
    A small executive atmosphere escape pod was nestled into a dock, hooked onto vertical rails, running up the wall to a second stormdoor. Salvador let that one open.
    Brilliant, golden sunshine.
    "Go," said Banning. They filed into the pod. Macedon has to squeeze in last, looking a bit disgruntled.
    "Ready?"
    "Hit it."
    The pod fired upwards with the explosive force of a bullet, and crested out into the air as the building behind it began to collapse into flames.





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