tz.cobra strike-第34部分

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hunderstorm　dazzle　of　a　hundred　laser　flashes。。。。
　The　stench　brought　him　back　to　reality　a　few　seconds　later；　the　stench　of　burned　meat　and　of　his　own　vomit。　Unsteadily；　he　got　to　his　feet　and　looked　around　at　the　carnage。　The　mojos…all　of　them…were　dead。　The　five　Qasamans　。　。　。　Justin　couldn't　tell。　Two　of　them　definitely　were；　with　prominent　laser　burns　over　vital　spots；　but　the　others…Moff　included…were　less　certain。　But　whether　burn　shock；　the　sonic；　or　his　flailing　arms　had　put　them　out　of　action　wasn't　important。　They　could　not　hurt　him；　and　he　had　no　desire　to　inquire　further。
　The　elevator　was　still　going　down。　The　whole　thing　had　clearly　taken　less　time　than　it'd　seemed　to；　and　it　penetrated　dimly　into　Justin's　rattled　consciousness　that　unless　the　elevator　contained　monitors　the　Qasamans　waiting　below　for　him　would　be　unaware　of　what　had　just　happened。　He　might　still　be　able　to　escape。
　He　jabbed　at　his　best　guess　for　the　ground　floor　button　。。。　and　then　at　a　second　and　a　third　before　he　realized　that；　unlike　those　on　Aventine；　this　elevator　design　didn't　allow　for　cancellation。　The　car　would　keep　going　down　until　it　reached　the　floor　Moff　had　signaled。　Where　more　Qasamans　would　be　waiting　for　him。
　He　had　flipped　over　on　his　back　on　the　unmoving　bodies　and　his　antiarmor　laser　was　already　tracing　an　off…center　square　in　the　ceiling　before　he　recognized　on　a　conscious　level　that　he　would　not；　could　not；　face　whatever　awaited　him　at　the　bottom　of　the
　〃　elevator　shaft。　The　false　ceiling　and　relatively　thin　metal　behind　it　were　no　match　for　the　laser；　and　as　the　charred　square　fell　practically　into　his　lap　Justin　scrambled　to　his　feet。　He　took　a　bare　second　to　gain　his　balance　and　jumped。
　Never　before；　not　even　in　training；　had　he　pushed　his　leg　servos　to　their　limit；　and　he　actually　gasped　in　shock　as　he　shot　through　the　opening　like　a　misshapen　missile。　All　around　him；　only　dimly　visible　even　with　the　aid　of　his　enhancers；　were　cables　and　guy　lines。　A　flicker　of　light　from　a　door　crack　washed　over　him…then　another；　and　another…he　was　slowing　down…stopping　in　midair…
　〃^〃Instinctively；　he　grabbed；　and　a　second　later　he　was　again　moving　downard；　his　arms　wrapped　solidly　around　the　main　elevator　cable。
　So　he　was　out　of　the　car；　and　out　of　the　direct　line　of　fire　from　the　Qasamans　below　。。。　but　he　was　still　deep　within　their　stronghold　and　had　left　a　trail　a　child　could　follow。　He　had　to　figure　out　a　way　to　escape；　and　he　had　to　do　so　fast。
　Oddly　enough；　though…or　so　it　seemed　to　him…　the　suffocating　panic　had　dissipated　far　enough　for　him　to　be　able　to　think　again。　His　incredible　jump　had　been　a　sledge…hammer　reminder　both　of　the　power　his　Cobra　equipment　gave　him　and　of　the　fact　that　his　father；　too；　had　once　been　imprisoned　like　this　and　had　survived。
　A　sheet　of　light　swept　by：　one　of　the　landing　doors　he'd　jumped　past　seconds　ago。　On　a　hunch；　he　shoved　off　the　cable　toward　it；　fingers　and　feet　finding　holds　on　framework　and　opening…mechanism　bars。　He　found　a　narrow　ledge　to　stand　on　and　regained　his　balance　as；　a　meter　away；　the　cable　continued　its　way　down。
　Carefully；　he　took　a　shuddering　breath。　/　am　Justin　Moreau；　he　reminded　himself　firmly。　A　Cobra；　following　in　my　father's　footsteps。　I　witt…l　will…survive　this。　Fine。　So　how　do　I　start？
　One　thing　was　for　sure：　he　had　several　floors　to　go　before　he　even　got　to　the　surface。　Shifting　his　grip；　he　leaned　out　as　far　as　he　safely　could。　The　position　of　the　door　directly　above　could　be　inferred　from　reflected　light；　but　there　were　too　many　bars　and　other　metallic　junk　in　the　way　for　it　to　be　visible。　So　jumping　floor　to　floor　was　out；　ditto　for　climbing　through　stuff　that　questionable。　A　service　ladder？　But　a　quick　survey　of　the　shaft　showed　nothing　that　would　serve　such　a　function。
　A　meter　away；　the　cable　abruptly　slowed　and　stopped　。。。　and　from　below　came　the　faint　sound　of　elevator　doors　opening。
　Again　Justin　shifted　position；　swinging　his　left　leg　to　point　directly　toward　the　hole　he'd　cut　in　the　car's　ceiling　and　simultaneously　bringing　up　his　optical　enhancers〃　magnification　capabilities。　The　sight　of　the　bodies　on　the　floor　sent　a　fresh　wave　of　revulsion　through　him；　but　before　he　had　time　for　more　than　a　quick　shiver　there　was　an　explosion　of　Qasaman　voices　from　below；　and　someone　stepped　into　the　car。
　Damn；　Justin　mouthed　the　word；　caught　once　more　in　indecision。　Should　he　try　and　get　out　of　the　shaft　before　the　Qasamans　below　came　to　the　obvious　conclusion　as　to　his　whereabouts；　or　should　he　stay　and　try　to　discourage　pursuit？
　The　decision　was　made　for　him。　Abruptly；　the　figure　below　became　a　face　and　a　pistol；　and　the　shaft　thundered　with　the　echo　of　his　shot。
　A　wild　shot；　of　course；　he　couldn't　have　any　idea　where　Justin　actually　was。　The　Cobra's　response　was　considerably　more　accurate；　and　even　at　this　range　the　antiarmor　laser　was　perfectly　adequate　for　such　a　purpose。　The　gunner　fell　in　a　heap　onto　the　bodies　beneath　him。　A　second　face　appeared；　and　Justin　shot　that　one；　too…
　And　from　below　came　the　sound　of　the　car's　doors　closing。　A　second　later；　the　cable　beside　him　started　upwards。
　Justin　gaped　for　a　couple　of　heartbeats　before　his　mental　wheels　caught　and　he　jumped　over　to　again　cling　to　the　cable。　What　had　happened　was　now　obvious：　having　reached　the　floor　Moff　had　sent　it　to；　the　elevator　was　now　responding　to　the　buttons　Justin　had　pushed　on　the　way　down。
　For　the　moment；　at　least；　Justin　seemed　to　be　one　step　ahead　of　them。
　After　the　flurry　of　activity　preceding　it；　the　ride　toward　ground　level　seemed　to　drag　on　and　on；　and　it　gave　him　the　chance　to　assess　his　own　injuries。　Both　hands；　particularly　the　little　fingers；　were　speckled　with　tiny　molten…metal　burns　from　his　blasting　of　tile　handcuff　chain　an　eternity　earlier。　The　rings　themselves　were　biting　hard　into　his　wrists　as　he　pressed　against　the　greasy　cable。　Something；　presumably　blood；　was　dripping　slowly　down　his　cheek　from　a　cut　over　his　left　eye　that　hurt　like　blazes。　He　hadn't　realized　before　that　any　of　the　mojos　had　gotten　so　close　。。。　and　the　thought　of　what　might　have　happened…or　could　yet　happen…
　Reality　broke　into　the　unfortable　speculation：　the　elevator　was　slowing　down。　The　car；　he　estimated；　was　about　three　floors　below　him。　When　the　doors　opened　he　would　begin　sliding　down　the　cable　toward　it；　keeping　his　antiarmor　laser　aimed　and　ready。　If　the　Qasamans　still　hadn't　caught　on　he　would　drop　through　the　ceiling　hole；　out　the　door；　and　make　a　mad　dash　for　the　exit；　relying　on　his　speed　and　puterized　reflexes　to　get　him　through。
　Below　him　the　car　doors　opened…and　as　they　did；　the　top　of　the　car　was　abruptly　flooded　with　light　and　the　roar　of　sustained　gunfire　exploded　into　the　shaft。
　Justin　jerked　violently；　nearly　losing　his　grip。　The　car　was　already　being　obscured　by　a　haze　of　smoke。　Through　it　the　staccato　flashing　of　the　guns　lit　up　the　shaft　with　an　unearthly　glow。　Splinters　of　shattered　steel　scythed　the　air　in　counterpoint　to　the　invisible　battering　of　the　bullets　that　were　demolishing　everything　in　range。
　And　Justin's　brief　respite　from　panic　was　over。
　Across　from　him　another　of　the　landing　doors　was　visible　in　the　flickering　light。　As　the　barrage　below　reached　its　peak　his　leg　swung　convulsively　around；　the　laser　within　it　tracing　a　distorted　ellipse　across　the　doors。　For　that　heart…rending　second　it　didn't　matter　that　the　Qasamans　might　have　a　dozen　gunmen　ringing　each　elevator　door；　didn't　even　matter　that　a　moment's　study　probably　would　have　revealed　an　emergency　mechanism　that　might　have　given　them　far　less　warning　of　his　presence。　All　that　mattered　was　that　the　guns　below　could　be　turned　upwards　at　any　second；　and　that　he　wanted　out　of　the　deathtrap　now。　Twisting　his　legs　to　the　horizontal；　he　shoved　hard　against　the　cable　with　his　hands。　The　charred　ellipse　broke　like　foil　as　he　hit　it；　and　he　flew　helplessly　into　the　hallway　beyond；　slamming　into　the　far　wall　and　bouncing　off　into　a　barely　balanced　crouch。
　The　hallway　was　empty。
　For　a　long　moment　he　sat　there　trembling　on　his　haunches；　his　brain　struggling　to　pierce　the　unreality　of　the　situation　to　figure　out　what　had　happened。　They　knew　he　was　in　the　shaft…the　roar　of　gunfire　still　ing　from　below　more　than　proved　that。　So　why　weren't　all　the　exits　from　the　shaft　being　guarded？
　Because　they　thought　he　was　still　on　the　elevator　roof？
　Probably。　A　concealed　weapon　would　likely　not　have　been　powerful　enough　to　kill　the　two　men　from　any　further　away　than　the　roof。　And　they　wouldn't　have　any　idea　just　how　high　his　servos　let　him　jump。
　Getting　to　his　feet；　he　gulped　a　ragged　breath　and　took　stock　of　the　situation。　The　hallway　stretched　for　thirty　meters　or　so　in　both　directions；　its　walls　lined　with　inprehensibly　labeled　doors。　At　the　far　ends　small　windows　reflected　his　image。
　Small；　but　probably　large　enough　to　get　through。　Picking　the　closest　of　the　two　ends；　Justin　headed　for　it　at　a　dead　run。
　And　he　almost　made　it。　But　if　guarding　all　exits　from　the　elevator　shaft　hadn't　been　the　Qasamans〃　first　priority；　neither　had　it　been　forgotten。　His　own　footsteps　masking　the　sound　of　their　approach；　Jus…tin's　first　warning　was　the　blood…chilling　scream　of　a　mojo　directly　behind　him。　He　twisted　around；　getting　just　the　briefest　glimpse　of　talons　arcing　for　his　face　before　his　nanoputer　took　over。
　The　servos　in　his　legs　wrenched　him　to　the　side；　out　of　the　mojo's　line　of　flight。　Its　wingtips　brushed　his　face　as　it　overshot　him；　screaming　again　in　what　sounded　uncannily　like　rage。　At　the　far　end　of　the　hall；　five　Qasamans　had　e　from　somewhere；　their
　guns　aimed　and　ready；　and　four　more　mojos　were　sweeping　to　the　attack。
　And　for　the　second　time　that　night　the　sight　of　the　birds　drove　all　reason　and　nerve　from　his　mind。　Falling　backwards　to　slam　against　the　wall；　he　snapped　his　burned　hands　up　。。。　and　as　his　brain　fogged　over　with　terror；　his　nanoputer　turned　them　into　fountains　of　laser　fire。
　He　came　to　a　few　seconds　later　to　find　all　five　mojos　dead。　At　the　end　of　the　hallway；　he　could　see　at　least　three　Qasaman　bodies；　as　well。　The　survivors…if　there'd　been　any…had　vanished。
　Witnesses　to　his　Cobra　firepower；　but　that　thought　didn't　occur　t