there and in nearby buildings. The burst was answered instantly by a longer, staccato roar from the T-600s’ miniguns. Connor gestured Tunney forward, and the two men set to work clearing the exit.
The wooden barrier looked sturdier and more impassible than it actually was, and it took less than half a minute for them to silently move the boards out of the way. Connor started to step out.
And ducked back as an HK swooped past, just half a block away, heading toward the bunker. Connor waited a few seconds, then tried again.
Nothing jumped or swooped out at him, either metal or human. As the sporadic gunfire continued from the vicinity of the bunker, he did a quick three-sixty, then gestured to Tunney and David. The two men slipped past him, moved ten meters in opposite directions down the street, and did three-sixties of their own. They hand-signaled the all-clear, then hunkered down in the rubble with weapons ready.
Connor stepped back into the tunnel, went back around that final blind corner, and gestured to the line of people waiting tensely in the dark.
Blair Williams, her dark hair tied back in a ponytail, was the fifth one out. She spotted Connor and stepped out of line.
“I’m heading for the hangar,” she announced softly. “Any special orders?”
“Yes; that you wait a minute,” Connor told her, grabbing her arm and pulling her down into a crouch as another HK appeared to the west, weaving its way between the skeletal remains of two of the taller buildings.
“Why?” Blair countered.
“Just wait,” Connor repeated.
Blair huffed something under her breath, but obediently moved over to the stubby remains of a fire hydrant and squatted beside it, drawing her big .44 caliber Desert Eagle from its holster.
Two more HKs had swooped in to join the party at the bunker before everyone made it out of the tunnel. But none of the machines came close, and there was no indic-ation that they’d noticed anything amiss, especially with all the gunfire masking any sounds the group might make.
Kate, as Connor had expected, was the last one out before the rear guard. At the very end of the line, also as expected, was Barnes.
“You seen my brother?” he asked Connor, hefting his grenade launcher as he looked around.
“Yes, he’s already out,” Connor assured him. Along with his launcher, Connor noted, Barnes had also picked up a Galil assault rifle somewhere along the way and had the weapon slung over his shoulder along with his gear bags. If all the extra weight was bothering him, it didn’t show.
“Good,” Barnes said. “We’re splitting up, right? I’ll get my squad and take point.”
“David will handle your squad,” Connor told him. “I want you to take Blair to the hangar.”
Blair rose from her crouch, a look of outraged disbelief on her face.
“Is
“I don’t want you trying to get to the hangar alone,” Connor told her.
“I don’t need him,” Blair insisted.
“Right—she doesn’t need me,” Barnes seconded.
“More importantly, Wince and Inji are still in there,” Connor explained patiently. “Once the planes are out, someone has to get them to safety.”
Barnes bared his teeth, but reluctantly nodded.
“Fine. Come on, flygirl. Try to keep up.”
He set off down the street, his head moving back and forth as he watched for trouble. Blair paused long enough to roll her eyes, then followed.
“I’m sure they’re secretly very fond of each other,” Kate offered dryly.
“As long as they dislike Skynet more, I’m happy,” Connor said. “Come on, let’s get these people out of here.”
To read what happens next, pick up a copy of
www.titanbooks.com
ALSO AVAILABLE FROM TITAN BOOKS:
THE ART OF
TERMINATOR
SALVATION
TARA BENNETT
A stunning visual chronicling of the making of
www.titanbooks.com
