Storm Of Iron(科幻战争)-第46章

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this　man　on　his　own　anyway。
Wherever　this　man　was　going；　he　seemed　to　be　making　his　way　there　with　real　purpose；　since　his　course　had　kept　true　this　last　few
hours。　Whatever　lay　at　the　end　of　this　chase；　Delau　was　certain　of　one　thing。
It　would　end　in　the　prey's　death。
HAWKE　CHECKED　THE　direction　finder　to　check　he　was　in　the　right　place；　unable　to　see　anything　much　in　the　encroaching
darkness。　He　stood　on　a　flat　plateau；　in　part　of　the　highest　reaches　of　the　mountains；　the　constant　thunder　of　the　invaders'　artillery
nothing　more　than　a　distant　rumble　from　here。　His　breath　caught　in　his　throat　and　he　wiped　sweat　from　his　brow。　He　was
exhausted；　but　pleased　to　have　arrived　here　…　wherever　here　was　…　before　darkness　had　fallen。
There　wasn't　much　to　see；　just　a　spill　of　rocks　lying　against　a　flat；　vertical　slice　of　the　mountainside；　though　the　ground　looked
pretty　churned　up；　as　though　someone　had　set　off　a　bunch　of　explosives。　He　shucked　off　his　pack　and　pulled　out　the　portable　vox；
cursing　as　he　saw　he　was　down　to　his　last　battery。
He　slotted　the　battery　home　and　pressed　the　activation　rune；　breathing　a　sigh　of　relief　as　the　front　panel　lit　up　with　a　reassuring
glow。　He　lifted　the　handset；　spun　the　dial　to　the　correct　frequency　and　thumbed　the　talk　button。
'Bastion；　this　is　Hawke；　do　you　copy？'
The　vox　crackled　for　a　second　before　a　voice　came　on　the　line。　'Receiving　you　loud　and　clear；　Hawke。　This　is　Magos　Beauvais；
are　you　at　the　specified　co…ordinates？'
'Yeah；　but　aside　from　the　view　I　don't　see　anything　that　makes　the　climb　worthwhile。'
'Describe　what　you　can　see；'　ordered　Beauvais。
'Not　a　hell　of　a　lot。　It's　pretty　damn　flat　here；　aside　from　a　pile　of　rocks；　but　not　much　else。'
'Go　over　to　the　pile　of　rocks　and　tell　me　what's　there。'
'Ok'said　Hawke；　lugging　his　pack　and　the　vox　over　to　the　rocks　and　peering　through　the　gloom。　He　stepped　forwards　and　brushed
away　a　thick　coating　of　dust。
'There's　a　door　behind　here！　The　rock　fall's　covered　most　of　it；　but　there's　definitely　a　door。'
'Is　there　a　panel　with　a　keypad　visible　to　the　side　of　the　door？'
'Yeah；　it's　a　bit　dusty；　but　looks　alright。'
Graham　McNeill　？Storm　of　Iron？
'Good；　here's　what　you　have　to　do；'　explained　Beauvais。　'Using　the　keypad；　enter　the　following　code：　tertius…three…alpha…epsilonnine。'
Wedging　the　handset　between　his　shoulder　and　ear；　Hawke　punched　in　the　code　and　stepped　back　as　the　door　juddered　open　on
buckled　rollers。　A　faint　wind　brushed　past　him；　like　the　exhalation　of　a　dead　thing　and　he　shivered。
'Ok；　door's　open。　I　guess　I'm　going　in；'　said　Hawke。
'Yes；　go　inside；'　confirmed　Beauvais。　'And　follow　my　directions。　Do　not　deviate　from　them　at　all。'
'What　the　hell　do　you　think　I'm　going　to　do；　go　on　a　tour？'
He　ducked　his　head　below　the　rocks　and　entered　a　gloomy　corridor。　He　stepped　forward；　stumbling　as　his　foot　met　resistance　then
tripped　as　he　trod　on　something　soft。　He　swore　as　he　hit　the　ground　and　rolled　onto　the　floor　of　the　corridor；　finding　himself　face
to　face　with　a　corpse；　its　mouth　twisted　in　a　rictus　mask　of　death。　He　yelped　and　pushed　himself　back　towards　the　dim　light　at　the
door　where　he　saw　another　three　bodies　slumped　on　the　ground。
Their　fists　were　covered　with　dried　blood。　Looking　at　the　door；　Hawke　saw　bloody　handprints　smeared　over　its　inside　surface。
'Imperator！　There's　dead　bodies　here！'　shouted　Hawke。
'Yes；　the　orbital　bombardment　was　slightly　off…course；　and　hit　the　mountains　instead　of　the　facility。　We　believe　the　explosions
threw　enough　debris　up　to　cover　the　oxy…recyc　units　and　the　men　within　choked　to　death。'
'Choked　to　death？　Then　why　are　their　hands　covered　in　blood？'
'It　is　logical　that　the　men　stationed　here　would　have　tried　to　exit　the　facility　when　they　realised　their　air　supply　was　cut　off；'　said
Beauvais；　his　voice　devoid　of　any　compassion　for　the　dead。
'But　why　couldn't　they　get　out？'　wheezed　Hawke　as　his　breathing　returned　to　normal。
'Facility　staff　do　not　have　access　to　the　codes　that　allow　the　exterior　doors　to　open。　It　would　constitute　a　security　risk　were　one　to
be　compromised。'
'And　for　that；　they　died。　You　cold　bastards！'
'A　necessary　precaution　and　one　all　staff　are　aware　of　when　stationed　in　these　facilities。　Now；　if　we　may　continue？　The　facility
commander　should　have　a　bronze　key　around　his　neck？　Take　it。'
Forcing　down　his　repugnance；　Hawke　checked　the　bodies；　finding　the　key　on　the　third　body。　He　vowed　that　if　he　got　out　of　this
alive；　he　was　going　to　find　Beauvais　and　punch　his　face　in。　He　stepped　over　the　bodies　and　made　his　way　down　the　corridor；
tucking　the　key　into　his　pocket。　The　air　felt　stagnant　and　he　soon　found　himself　wheezing。
'I　can　hardly　breathe　in　here；'　he　complained。
'Do　you　have　a　respirator　to　use　until　the　outside　air　filters　in？'
'Yeah；　I　got　one；'　snapped　Hawke。　He　fumbled　in　the　pack　for　the　clumsy　breathing　apparatus　and　dragged　it　over　his　head；
flicking　on　the　illuminator　above　the　faceplate。
A　featureless　corridor　stretched　off　into　the　darkness；　and　he　started　his　descent。　Following　Beauvais's　instructions；　he　passed
several　iron　doors　sealed　with　keypads　which　were　unmarked　save　for　the　cog　symbol　of　the　Adeptus　Mechanicus。　His　breathing
sounded　loud　in　his　ears　and　the　click　of　his　worn…down　boot　heels　and　the　tinny　voice　of　Beauvais　echoed　from　the　walls；　the
torch…lit　darkness　seeming　to　magnify　the　sounds。　Despite　himself；　Hawke　felt　his　trepidation　growing　the　further　he　descended
into　the　mountain。
At　last；　Beauvais's　directions　led　him　to　an　unremarkable　door；　stencilled　with　wording　he　couldn't　read；　but　a　symbol　that　was
clearly　a　warning。　He　raised　the　handset　to　his　mouth。
'Right；　I'm　here；　now　what？'
'Use　the　key　you　took　from　the　facility　commander　to　unlock　the　door。'
Hawke　dug　the　key　from　his　pocket　and　did　as　instructed；　standing　back　as　the　door　clicked　open　and　a　gust　of　oil　and　incensescented
air　rushed　to　meet　him。　Inside　was　darkness　and　he　stepped　through　the　door；　panning　the　light　from　his　respirator　around
him。
The　room　appeared　to　be　circular；　its　blank　walls　running　around　a　gigantic　white　pillar　at　its　centre　that　took　up　most　of　the　space。
A　metal…ranged　ladder　set　into　the　rockcrete　wall　ascended　into　the　darkness　beside　him；　and　he　stared　in　puzzlement　at　the
massive　object　before　him。
Hawke　put　his　hand　out　and　touched　it。　It　was　warm　to　the　touch　and　felt　as　though　there　ent　within；　but
perhaps　that　was　just　his　imagination。　The　base　of　the　column　sat　in　a　sunken　pit　and　as　he　leaned　over　to　get　a　better　look；　he　saw
what　appeared　to　be　vast　nozzles；　like　the　ones　he'd　seen　on　the　end　of　one　of　the　heavy　weapon　team's　missiles；　but　bigger。
Bigger…
Realisation　sank　in　as　Hawke　craned　his　neck　in　an　attempt　to　see　how　high　this　chamber　was。
'Is　this　what　I　think　it　is？'　he　asked　Beauvais。
'That　depends　on　what　you　think　it　is；　but　I　can　tell　you　that　it　is　a　Glaive　class；　ground…launched　orbital　torpedo。'
'And　what　in　the　name　of　the　High　Lord's　balls　do　you　expect　me　to　do　with　it？'　spluttered　Hawke。
'We　want　you　to　fire　it；　Guardsman　Hawke；'　explained　Magos　Beauvais。
FIVE
FOLLOWED　BY　NEARLY　two　thousand　men；　Castellan　Prestre　Vauban　clambered　over　the　lip　of　the　citadel's　ditch　and　sprinted
towards　the　Iron　Warriors'　raised　earthworks。　There　was　no　battle　cry；　no　shout　of　rage；　only　the　silence　of　soldiers　who　knew
their　only　chance　of　survival　was　stealth。
The　men's　faces　were　smeared　with　soot　and　their　sky　blue　uniform　had　been　left　in　the　barracks　in　favour　of　plain　black　flak
jackets。
Graham　McNeill　？Storm　of　Iron？
Leonid's　storming　parties　spread　out　from　the　ditch；　clustered　around　the　demolition　teams　and　Vauban　knew　that　this　attack　was　a
desperate　gamble　indeed。　But　as　his　second…in…command　had　pointed　out；　they　had　no　choice　but　to　attempt　to　destroy　the　enemy
guns。　To　not　try　would　be　to　allow　the　Iron　Warriors　to　pound　them　into　dust。
A　thrill　of　fear　and　exultation　coursed　through　his　veins　at　the　prospect　of　battle；　it　had　been　too　long　since　he　had　led　men　into
combat。
He　clutched　his　bolt　pistol　close　to　his　chest；　running　crouched　over；　the　breath　heaving　in　his　lungs。　The　traitor　line　was　still　a
few　hundred　metres　away。　His　breathing