Ice Guard(科幻战争)-第7章

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blast　these　freaks　to　whatever　afterlife　they　believed　in；　and　he　would　have　done　it　too　had　it　not
been　for　the　vox…message…　had　it　not　been　for　the　fact　that　Colonel　Stanislev　Steele　needed　him。
He　wished　he　knew　how　long　it　had　been。
He　had　slipped　away　from　the　cultists　at　the　first　opportunity；　leaving　his　last　frag　grenade　in
their　cannon’s　barrel。　When　the　weapon　was　fired；　the　grenade　would　burst　and；　Pozhar　hoped；
trigger　a　devastating　plasma　explosion。　He　had　made　his　way　to　the　edge　of　the　battlefield；　trying　to
remain　innocuous；　finding　cover　where　he　could　in　deserted；　half…demolished　buildings。
He　had　not　counted　on　running　into　civilians。　Four　women　and　six　children　were　huddled　in　a
dark　corner　of　one　of　those　buildings；　somehow　overlooked　by　the　heretics　that　had　burnt　out　their
homes　and　slaughtered　their　men。
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At　first　they　had　been　an　unwelcome　burden；　because　Pozhar　would　certainly　have　become　a
target　as　soon　as　he　had　stepped　out　into　the　open　with　them。　But；　emboldened　by　the　appearance　of
an　Imperial　Guardsmen；　their　saviour；　the　women　had　told　him　of　a　way　out：　a　hatchway　into　the
underhive。
And　so；　Pozhar　had　ended　up　here；　in　a　tunnel　mouth；　up　to　his　ankles　in　the　filth　of　a　billion
departed　slum…dwellers；　as　the　women　waited　some　way　behind　him　and　tried　to　keep　their　children
quiet。　And　the　ladder　that　would　take　them　all　back　up　to　the　surface；　back　to　Pozhar’s　comrades；
was　just　a　few　metres　away…　a　few　metres　away；　but　guarded。
It　had　been　a　shock　to　find　cultists　in　the　underhive。　Fortunately；　the　women　had　known　their
way　around；　and；　so　far；　they　had　been　able　to　keep　out　of　sight；　though　a　number　of　diversions　due
to　blocked　tunnels　had　left　Pozhar　fretting　with　impatience。　His　greatest　fear　was　that　Colonel　Steele
might　have　given　up　on　him　by　now　—　worse　still；　might　have　written　him　off　as　a　coward　or　a
traitor。
Four　cultists。　He　could　take　them；　he　thought；　especially　as　their　guns　were　trained　on　the
manhole　above　them。　They　were　expecting　trouble　from　above；　not　from　below。　They　weren’t
expecting　him。　He　could　take　them。
And　they　would　raise　the　alarm；　and　then　more　cultists　would　come　running。　Would　he　be　able
to　ferry　the　women　and　the　children　up　the　ladder　and　hold　their　attackers　off　long　enough　to　follow
them？
A　more　cautious　man　might　have　waited　a　while　longer；　might　have　looked　for　a　better　chance；
or　even　another　ladder。　Not　Pozhar。　He　had　lost　enough　time　already。
Even　though　he　knew　that　the　fight　ahead　of　him　would　be　difficult；　even　though　he　knew　that
his　chances　of　survival　were　slim；　he　drew　his　lasgun　and　he　ran　to　meet　it　firing。　And　he　did　so　not
just　because　he　felt　he　had　no　other　choice；　but　with　a　grin　on　his　face　and　a　mad　laugh　erupting
from　his　stomach。
A　step　gave　way　beneath　Trooper　Palinev’s　foot；　and　he　leapt　for　the　safety　rail　and　pulled　himself
up。　He　had　started　a　cascade　effect；　which　demolished　the　rest　of　the　staircase　beneath　him；　but　he
had　attained　the　balcony　level　of　the　refinery　as　planned。
He　grinned　at　the　memory　of　those　comrades　who　had　thought　him　mad　for　eschewing　the
standard　Valhallan　greatcoat。　His　basic　flak　jacket　might　not　have　provided　the　same　level　of
protection　against　the　cold；　but　it　was　much　lighter；　more　flexible；　and　Palinev’s　unencumbered
agility　had　just　saved　his　life。
He　reached　the　tall；　narrow　window　—　the　one　towards　which　his　sergeant　had　directed　him
from　outside；　below。　He　settled　behind　it　and　used　the　butt　of　his　long…las；　his　sniper　variant　lasgun；
to　knock　out　the　glass。　An　icy　gust　of　wind　blew　away　the　refinery’s　stuffy　gloom；　and　further
reddened　Palinev’s　already　ruddy　cheeks。
He　rested　the　long；　thin　barrel　of　his　weapon　against　the　sill；　and　waited。
The　battle　had　only　just　spread　to　this　part　of　the　hive；　and　many　of　the　buildings　were　still
standing。　Palinev’s　platoon　was　attempting　to　draw　the　enemy　into　a　narrow　street；　a　bottleneck　in
which　the　defenders　would　have　the　advantage；　and　the　strategy　was　working。　The　first　wave　of
Chaos　forces　came　crashing　against　the　Ice　Warriors’　front　lines；　and　were　held。　That　made　them
sitting　ducks　for　Palinev；　and　the　nine　other　snipers　stationed　behind　the　surrounding　windows。　He
squeezed　off　round　after　round；　claiming　kill　after　kill。
And　then；　in　a　second；　the　tide　turned。
Palinev　didn’t　know　what　had　happened　at　first；　only　that　there　had　been　a　shift　in　the　battle；　that
his　comrades　were　reacting　to　something　he　hadn’t　seen。　Something　behind　them。　Then　he　saw　lasbeams
ripping　into　them；　from　an　area　that　ought　to　have　been　secure；　taking　them　by　surprise。　It
was　a　massacre。
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His　heart　in　his　throat；　Palinev　abandoned　his　post　and　raced　along　the　circular　balcony；　his
footsteps　ringing　off　metal　mesh。　Three　windows　along；　he　found　a　better　view；　and　he　saw　to　his
horror　that　cultists　and　traitors　were　rising　from　the　manholes；　from　the　underhive；　outflanking　their
foes。　The　Ice　Warriors　on　the　ground　were　rallying；　but　they　didn’t　stand　a　chance。　Still；　Palinev　did
what　he　could　to　help　them；　sniping　down　all　the　heretics　he　could　in　the　time　he　had。
The　refinery　doors　crashed　open；　somewhere　beneath　him；　and　all　of　a　sudden　the　battle　seemed
a　great　deal　louder；　a　great　deal　closer　to　him。
The　intruders　knew　where　he　was。　A　frag　grenade　arced　over　the　balcony　rail　and　rolled　up　to
Palinev’s　feet。　He　was　already　running；　just　ahead　of　the　explosion；　which　blew　out　a　section　of　the
building’s　wall。　The　balcony　was　mangled；　left　partially　unsupported；　trembling　and　creaking　—
and；　as　Palinev　reached　the　one　remaining　set　of　steps；　he　found　four　Chaos　cultists　ascending
towards　him；　recognisable　by　their　cloaks　and　by　their　obscene　tattoos。
He　brought　up　his　gun；　but　the　cultists　were　too　fast　for　him；　and　he　had　to　throw　himself　onto
his　stomach　to　avoid　their　las…fire。　He　wasn’t　accustomed　to　close　combat；　wasn’t　built　for　it。
Palinev　had　spent　his　years　in　service　honing　his　sneaking　and　sniping　skills。　This；　then；　was　his
worst　nightmare：　an　enemy　that　could　see　him！
A　section　of　mesh　beneath　him　rattled　and　slid。　Feverishly；　he　pried　it　loose　and　clambered　down
through　a　web　of　scaffolding。　He　dropped　the　six　metres　to　the　ground　floor　level；　rolling　to　absorb
the　impact　of　his　landing。　The　cultists　were　up　on　the　teetering　balcony；　looking　for　him；　and　he
decided　to　give　them　a　taste　of　their　own　medicine。　They　saw　the　incoming　grenade；　and　one　of
them　tried　to　run；　while　the　other　three　saw　the　futility　of　that　course　and　jumped　for　it。
Palinev　managed　to　get　off　a　shot　while　they　were　in　mid　air；　wounding　one　of　the　cultists；　who
landed　awkwardly　with　a　snap　of　bone。　Then　the　grenade　went　off　and　the　balcony　gave　way；
bringing　two　walls　down　with　it。　All　Palinev　had　time　to　do　was　to　drop　to　his　knees　and　cover　his
head　with　his　hands　as　he　was　engulfed　by　a　tidal　wave　of　screeching；　rending　sound。
When　it　was　all　over；　as　the　echoes　died　down；　Palinev　raised　his　head；　and　saw　that　one　of　the
cultists　had　survived；　and　was　training　a　lasgun　on　him。　He　closed　his　eyes；　heard　the　familiar
cracking　retort；　and　expected　it　to　be　the　last　thing　he　would　ever　hear。
Then；　he　opened　his　eyes　again　to　find　the　cultist　dead　on　the　floor。
An　Ice　Warrior　stood　over　the　corpse；　one　whose　name　Palinev　did　not　know。　“You　the　scout；
Palinev？”　the　man　grunted；　and　he　nodded　blankly。
“Must　be　something　up　with　your　comms；”　said　the　Ice　Warrior。　“They’ve　been　trying　to　contact
you　for　the　past　half　hour。　Steele　wants　you。”
They　had　lined　up　beside　the　Termite；　Steele　and　his　handpicked　squad：　the　nine　troopers　to　whom
he　would　be　trusting　his　life；　and　more　importantly；　the　success　of　his　assignment。
They　stood　with　their　heads　bowed　in　silence；　their　hats　and　helmets　removed；　as　a　priest　laid　his
hands　upon　each　of　them　in　turn；　and　bestowed　the　blessing　of　the　God…Emperor　upon　them。　Steele
cursed　his　enhanced　sense　of　smell；　it　took　all　the　self…control　he　had　not　to　choke　on　the　pungent
cloud　that　billowed　from　the　holy　man’s　incense　burner。
The　priest’s　arrival　had　been　a　surprise　to　them　all。　Steele　had　known；　of　course；　that　the
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