Furnace (Hunter-Killer #1)

Chapter 36 - One Point of Understanding

Compared to the battle that raged in the outer districts of the city, the Forge was a site of relative calm, but he could feel the tension on the air. Gleaming, unfired gun emplacements directed their gaze towards the sounds of combat, night having now fallen completely over Brekka's war torn streets. The dull clamour of gunfire settled into the background, his ears having adjusted to the near-constant din over the past several days.

Groups of soldiers manned raised platforms and huge toothed barriers had been raised to block sections of the street, making any attacking force have to zig-zag its way through a brutal killing field.

Fortunately the skiff he and Ivy had hitched a ride on didn't have to worry about the guns as it slalomed its way forward through the defences. At the far end of the avenue that dominated Brekka's central district the Forge itself rose up defiantly in the night sky, a flat-topped, armoured pyramid of metal that bristled with colossal guns, the glint of reinforced windows and the lurid glare of searchlights.

A pair of Hunter-Killers in jet black armour flanked the main entrance, machine heads swivelling left and right as they tracked the flow of personnel. Side entrances thronged with soldiers and support staff and on the upper levels the chamber of Brekka's ruling Commissariat would be in session continuously as the battle unfolded. Ryke wondered what they would say once they discovered the plan he wanted to set in motion.

"Alright, out, out!" barked the Scout Cadre captain who'd allowed them onto his skiff. "West entrance is for non-essential support staff. Go!"

Ryke threw the man a quick salute and then slithered awkwardly down the rappel line that dangled from the skiff's open flank. He hit the ground, stumbled, and then stepped clear as Ivy followed him down with considerably more grace. They both had to shield their eyes as the skiff's engines flared, blasting them with a shower of grit.

"You sure about this?" Ivy asked, grimacing as she scrubbed the residue from her face with one hand.

"Pretty sure." Ryke shrugged and motioned her to follow. "Let's just do this before I change my mind."

The pair joined the flow of support staff at the side entrance of the Forge, rank insignias being checked half-heartedly by guards at the gaping set of double doors – none wanted to slow down their comrades any more than was absolutely necessary. Glancing at the digital counter display above the doorway Ryke swallowed hard. He had two hours before he was technically back on duty – back in the carnage of battle.

With Ivy tucked alongside him he joined one of the queues and together they shuffled forward to the guard post until they reached a weary-looking corporal, his anti-armour rifle hanging loose from its strap around his shoulder. The man looked them up and down, weathered features cracking in confusion.

"You're a long way out from the Basin, Hunter-Killer," he challenged in a hoarse voice, stepping ever so slightly sideways to bar their path. "State your business. No unauthorised entries to Forge command."

"But I have authorisation," Ryke blurted.

"Check with Specialist 1st Class, Kelso Vannigan," Ivy continued in a measurably calmer voice. "He's a coordinator at Forge CC12A."

The guard reached for the radio clipped to his armour, but before he could do as she asked, a familiar voice echoed up over the hubbub.

"Corporal!" Ryke looked over the man's shoulder to find that at that moment Kelso was running down the corridor towards them and waving frantically. "Corporal, let them through – Forge authorisation is confirmed!"

He skidded to a halt and flashed his shoulder rank insignia. The guard glanced at Kelso and back to the teenagers in front of him. Then, with a noncommittal grunt he stepped aside and waved them through. Exhaling a breath of relief, Ryke darted eagerly past the checkpoint and raced up to his older brother, embracing him tightly.