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Coming fast.
"With me, General. You back me up, or I'll kill you. Give me that!"
Valentine gripped the pistol being taken from the general's holster. It turned into a wrestling match-which he had no time for. He raked his claws across the generals forearm, opening skin. The pistol came free. Valentine kicked it away, slipping off his claws.
He retrieved the gun, a standard KZ officer's revolver, rugged and reliable. He pulled back the hammer; the click sounded muted to his recovering ears.
"Out the door. I want you in front of me if anyone's shooting."
He heard banging somewhere below. In the direction of the Reaper. Locked in an underground chamber? "In case of emergency, wake the vampire"?
Xray-Tango poked his head into the hallway. Neither bullet nor Reaper claw removed it.
"It's clear. Don't get nervous, that thing triggers easy."
"Hurry, there's a Reaper coming."
"Jesus."
"The stairs. The gun stays pointed up as long as you keep quiet."
Valentine took a good two-handed grip on the gun. He heard a door give way and shoved the general with his shoulder. "It's coming. Upstairs! Upstairs!"
He pushed the general to the stairs and through the crash door at the bottom. As he slammed it behind them, he saw a shadow fly across the hallway and into the interrogation room. Mr. Smalls squealed-for the last time. Valentine shut the pathetically tiny bolt on the door.
"A bodyguard went nuts! Fuckin' tore everyone apart," Valentine shouted upstairs, pushing the general up in front of him. "That Hood's berserk."
An MP and another Quisling soldier stood at the top of the stairs, both pointing guns down at them.
"General?" Valentine asked, putting Xray-Tango between him and the rifles, just in case.
"Put up those guns, damn it. Run, run for it, boys. Or we're all dead!" Xray-Tango shouted, which was probably true enough.
Thank God!
Valentine got the general to the top of the stairs as the MP ran. Valentine heard another door downstairs torn off its hinges. He heard the scream of some other unfortunate pulled from a hiding spot. Probably the MP. That was enough for the TMCC grunt at the stairs. He put up his rifle and ran for the door, with a convincing "Get out of here!"
His example was one to be followed. The other officers and men made for the exits. One threw a chair out the window, and was about to follow it when a bullet whizzed by. One of the sentries outside, hearing shouts and confusion within, had shot in panic.
"What the-?" the private said.
"Try the door," Valentine suggested, grabbing his pistol belt and heading for the second story. "C'mon, General, let's call for help," he said, waving the pistol to point upstairs. Valentine smashed a red case on the wall and extracted the fire ax from within.
Either he was moving fast or the general was slow; it seemed an eternity until they came through the door to the radio room on the second floor. The rest of the floor was a cavern of future construction. Two operators stood next to the radios, both armed and pointing their weapons at Valentine and Xray-Tango. A trio of message tubes stood up from the floor like unfinished plumbing fixtures.
"Fuck! FUCK! Hold it right there, mister," the radioman with sergeant's stripes said, eyes bulging at the sight of the blood on Valentine.
"Holy shit," the other added, shaking like he had a jackhammer in his hand instead of a revolver.
"Watch those weapons there, soldiers," Xray-Tango said.
"I'm the only one who made it out," Valentine said. "If I were you two, I'd get gone. It's a bodyguard. It's going nuts."
"Jesus, that happened to my cousin in Armarillo," the shaking one said. "Like it got ravies. It killed thirty people before they stopped it."
"If you've got a way out of here that doesn't involve the stairs, I'd use it," Valentine said. "We'll call for help."
"It's my responsibility," Xray-Tango said, his eye twitching madly and the words barely getting out. "Run along, boys."
