CHAPTER 6
With the hangar doors fully opened, the climate control was no match for the sheer power of nature as the temperature in the hangar dropped drastically and 99 could feel icy tentacles of frosted air coil around her stockinged legs, reaching up under her skirt where she was inadequately protected against the cold. Steeling her resolve even as she began shaking with cold, 99 shifted the blazing MP 40 down and what sounded like an up-tempo drumroll filled the air as the bullets attacked the front left wheel of Mikhail's W900. 99's blue eyes flashed in shock as the tires withstood the barrage of the submachine gun and her exhale turned into a cone of mist as it left her soft parted lips.
The Chief leaped to his feet, F1 butt stock pressed to his shoulder and his breath fogged in clouds and streams from his mouth and nostrils as he held down the trigger, sending a hail of bullets towards SS-19 standing on the steps of the red W900, just as she flung the door opened to shield herself. Sparks again fountained out against the armoured door as she dived into the passenger seat and yanked the door shut.
"Go now!" SS-19 yelled and repeated the order into her walkie-talkie as Ireson slammed the gear shift back into reverse and stomped on the clutch and accelerator. "Mikhail! Let's go! Now!"
Ireson's W900 roared like a beast of legend that supposedly inhabited such lush mountains like the one they were in now and surged backwards, followed a second later by Mikhail's vehicle. Ireson's trailer's rear bumper maintained a 5 to 6 feet lead over Mikhails as both W900s barrelled backwards. SS-19 could see the Chief actually running after them, his F1 blazing away at shoulder level and she heard the continuous harmless clanging of the bullets against the grill and front fender of the modified shells of the vehicle. But she kept her eyes with greater interest on the side mirror on the passenger side where she could see the completely opened hangar doorway, growing larger, a black rectangle that expanded every second with the burning Land Rover wreckages in the way throwing back a yellowish glow in the vehicle's mirror. She could just make out the few hundred feet of snow out in the valley beyond the door, illuminated by the reach of the hangar lights.
99 ran along the catwalk in the direction of the hangar doors, her boots banging on the catwalk while Hayler's MP 40 blazed from her shoulder as she kept a continuous stream of bullets at the window of the driver's side door of Mikhail's W900, causing sparks to rain off the glass, hoping to wear down the armour and hit the driver. But unfortunately, the bullet proof material remained resilient and impervious to the continuous hail of 9mm Parabellums and the driver remained unharmed beyond it as he focused on his vehicle's backwards journey.
"Goddamn armour!" The Chief swore under his breath as his F1 submachine gun's bolt locked back after the last round was expended and he tossed the weapon aside, running towards the south wall where a large number of Air Force personnel laid on the floor or slumped against the wall in chemical induced slumber.
As the 2 W900s continued barrelling backwards towards the hangar doorway, the Chief pulled an M16 free from a slumbering Air Police along with 2 clips of spare ammo from the man's flak jacket before continuing to run after the retreating semi's, his new weapon blazing from his shoulder.
Echoing rings and impact sparks fountained outwards from the red W900's armoured radiator grill and front bumper as Ireson shifted gears and sped up his vehicle. The empty magazine of Hayler's MP 40 dropped out from it's housing as 99 kept running and locked home another clip and cycled the bolt before continuing her barrage from the shoulder now focusing on the front left wheel of the matte-gray W900's box trailer in which she and Max had hidden in on their arduous journey to the mountain fortress. The metal stock jammed repeatedly against her shoulder keeping perfect rhythm with the drum-roll like sound of bullet impact against the massive wheel of the W900 along with sparks that flew from the occasional stray round against the armoured metal hub cap and fender. But steady as her fire was, the reinforced tire of the W900 was as resilient as the rest of the vehicle's armour.
The M16 bolt slammed back as the weapon emptied and the Chief cursed under his fogging breath in the increasingly frigid air in the hangar as he released the clip and locked home a new one before releasing the bolt and continuing his firing without stopping his foot pursuit of the two vehicles. As sparks continued to rain outwards from the armoured shell of the W900, the Chief realised with sheer dismay and rage that there was no stopping them as the giant vehicle's box trailers approached the last 200 feet before the hangar doorway.
99's shoulder began to ache from the hammering metal stock of the MP 40 but she relentlessly, released the empty clip from the weapon and without missing a step, locked home another spare clip and resumed firing the moment the first round was chambered. Mikhail behind the wheel could not help but flinch away from the continuous fountain of sparks outside the glass as he struggled to keep his vehicle steady as the MP 40's continuous stream of bullets assailed the window.
As sparks continued exploding off the armoured windshield and fender from the pursuing Chief's M16, SS-19 next to Ireson spoke into her walkie-talkie.
"SS-19 to Gerd! Wenn du noch lebst, verlasse jetzt! Rendezvous…"
Max and Gerd gripping each other's forearms, both struggling against each other a few feet from the semi-circular console, with 86's back towards the angled black glass windows overlooking the hangar, both heard the chilling disembodied alto voice coming over Gerd's discarded walkie-talkie which laid somewhere in the knee high green mist that hid the floor of the CONTROL centre.
"…planen Alpha acht! Ich wiederhole! Rendezvous planen Alpha acht!"
His face twisted in a rictus of agony and effort, beads of sweat pouring down his forehead, as he held onto Gerd's right forearm while the KAOS agent gripped his, Max grunted.
"If you wanna get that, I can wait!"
His biceps and forearms rippling under his Air Force service jacket and shirt sleeves, pushing back against Max, Gerd still managed to shrug effortlessly, shaking his head with a pout as he replied.
"Nein. I find it VERY rude to take calls vhile killing."
With that, the KAOS agent whipped both his arms down breaking the hold and Max's right whistled in a lightning cross. Gerd ducked and delivered a left, right, left combination upper cut into Max's ribs, followed by a right palm heel across the jaw. As Max's head twisted to the right with an alarming click from his neck while he staggered, Gerd's left hook exploded again across his jaw sending his head twisting the other direction followed by a palm heel that exploded into Max's chest.
Max staggered back 2 steps towards Appleby's console, his head ringing and pain exploding from his chest and ribs with every breath he tried to take and Gerd continued mercilessly his fists pistoning one after the other, smashing into the CONTROL agent's midsection in right, left, right combinations. The agony bent 86 forward, his knees bending just before Gerd's left elbow exploded against his right cheekbone turning his head again. Gerd's right fist hooked into Max's ribs before turning into a palm heel strike that drove across Max's jaw turning his head back the other way before swinging his right leg up in a clockwise arc to smash the outside edge of his right foot across Max's right temple.
As Max's head exploded into stars, he reeled back, arms flailing, and his foot stumbled over something on the ground which he realised must be the leg of the dead KAOS agent Wilson under the roiling green fog over the floor, causing him to stumbled back and his butt landed painfully on the edge of the console. Before he could recover, Gerd slammed into him with the force of a bus, crossed forearms ramming into his throat and powerful hands grabbing fistfuls of his Davy's gray sports jacket's lapels.
Gerd's hands pulled in opposing directions, yanking Max's lapels towards each other while the X of his forearms mashed into the CONTROL agent's windpipe. Max's head was forced back as his breath was choked by his own lapels and Gerd's forearms. Max pushed out frantically at the KAOS agent whose crystal blue eyes remained completely emotionless and colder than the air at the summits of the Colorado Rockies' fourteeners, while he tightened his grip.
As Max stared at the ceiling of the command centre, scrabbling at Gerd's locked forearms against his throat, the KAOS agent heaved, pushing and lifting with his grip. Max found himself lifted up, his butt leaving the console's edge by several inches and his upper body moving up further over the controls as Gerd used the momentum to tighten his grip even more trying to crush his windpipe or break his neck or both at once. Gerd's eyes seemed to glitter like blue diamonds through the green haze that started turning black and Max realised it was because spots were beginning to swim before his eyes. Desperately, he swung up both his arms and brought them slamming down onto Gerd's forearms.
The KAOS agent's only response was a slight drop of his arms without releasing his grip. But Max's relief lasted only a millisecond as his upper body dropped with the juncture of his buttocks landing right on the right hand control column, pushing it forward as he forcefully sat down on it. Max's eyes popped and his cheeks bulged as the control stick shoved upwards, length wise into his butt crack and it's base mashed against his tailbone and testicles.
"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" escaped from Max's pouted lips.
Outside in the hangar, the corresponding right hand M61A1 Vulcan turret's 6-barrelled rotary cannon swivelled down and unseen by both the Max and Gerd, the view on the targeting screen just above the butt jammed control column behind Max, swung down as well from the open doors of the hangar and over the green fog covered hangar floor.
Gerd's predatory light blue eyes glittered with blood-thirsty delight as he leaned in pressing his crossed forearms tighter into his victim's throat. Max's popping eyes and bulging cheeks resembled a caricature painted on the side of a hot air balloon as he kept hold of Gerd's forearms with his left hand and with his right, fumbled desperately underneath his butt to try and dislodge the control column that was going further and further into his ass crack. Gerd growled pushing his forearms against Max's throat again, jerking him an inch upwards and unknown to them both, Max's butt rubbed against the top of the control column, pushing the toggle switch on it. The red light indicator blinked on beneath the right side cannon's targeting screen.
Max's fumbling fingers managed to grasp the smooth hard control column wedged beneath him but he could not budge it due to his own weight on it.
The 2 W900s roared backwards, sparks continuing to erupt harmlessly off their armoured hoods, radiators, bumpers and windows, paving 2 surging valleys of green fog with their passage. Their rear bumpers surged into the last hundred feet before the hangar doors.
The Chief locked in his second clip into the M16 as he kept running and held the trigger maintaining a steady impact spark producing barrage against the windshield right where the driver was and he could swear the KAOS agent was tossing his cowl cloaked head back and laughing at the useless attack. 99, running on the catwalk, gloved finger holding the droning and kicking MP 40 sent the last 10 rounds of 9mm Parabellums bouncing off the driver's side window without even a scratch before the bolt locked back permanently. She tossed aside the weapon, having run out of magazines for it and reached into her open flak jacket to Hayler's shoulder harness over her cropped navy blue wool jacket and dragged out the heavy pistol from the holster. For a split second, her deep blue eyes actually frowned at the design on the left side grip panel consisting of an upside down triangle with the letters "FB" in it.
Gripping the ergonomically designed triangular grip of the weapon in both gloved hands, she triggered round after 9mm Parabellum round at the retreating semi's with unfortunately the same result as the heavier weapons.
"Way're almost there!" Ireson laughed as he kept his eyes on the side mirror of his W900 which was completely black down reflecting the night beyond the hangar doors and the glow from the bon-fires of the burning Land Rovers.
In the command centre, Max's eyes continued to pop along with his bulging cheeks as his fingers kept fumbling against the control column in the groove between his butt, threatening to become a permanent resident as the trailer of Mikhail's W900 arrowed into the view on the targeting view screen behind Max, within the Duplex crosshair reticle with the target circle just 4 inches to the right of the trailer's body.
Cold mist blew out of the Chief's mouth and nostrils as he swore in rage even as he kept running and his M16 droned away, bullets hammering with the effect of pebbles against the red W900's armour and both vehicles shrank away from him, towards the yawning dark rectangle of the open hangar doors.
"Den'gi! Prochnost'! A takzhe—PobedAAAAAAA!" Mikhail roared, shaking a huge gloved fist at the ceiling of his tractor unit cab's ceiling.
"Bring me da CHEDDAAAAR!" Ireson yelled triumphantly as SS-19's veiled face suddenly looked up as she noticed the cannon closest to the north side tilted down while the other remained pointing straight.
Max's eyes remained bulging almost more than his cheeks at the agony shooting up his most important place and as the last of the air left in his lungs expended, his fumbling fingers under his butt scrabbling at the control column, closed desperately hoping to pull the offending technological control aide from his crack. Instead, all his fingers did, was pull the trigger switch and held it just as Gerd wrenched his crossed forearmed grip on Max to the right.
"OOOOOOOOAAAAAAIIIIIEEEEEE!" Max squealed his eyes still popping and his lips peeled back to reveal his gritted teeth as his upper body was tilted to his left, and his butt crack twisted on the control column which turned his tail bone and prized spheres into moulding clay while pushing the already downward control column to the left.
The right side M61A1 Vulcan's 6-barrelled cannon spun into a blur and all other sounds in the hangar was drowned out by it's high pitched whining as a 7 foot tongue of fire extended from the rotating muzzles as it unleashed a laser straight line of glowing yellow tracer bullets.
"GET OOOOOUT!" SS-19 yelled through her veil into her walkie-talkie as she flung herself at the passenger door.
The blazing stream of yellow tracer bullets first struck the hangar floor inches to the left of the matte-gray W900's box trailer sending a plume of gray concrete dust and fragments leaping 10 feet up into the air.
"YA skuchayu po Sibiri!" Mikhail roared as he reacted to SS-19's warning over his walkie-talkie and lunged for the door.
But it was too late, for the control column, guided by Max's butt crack rotated the turret of the spinning tracer bullet spewing M61A1, sweeping the glowing yellow line of projectiles southwards just as the matte-gray traction unit roared into alignment with it's path.
Mikhail had just yanked the handle of the door when the blinding yellow line of tracer bullets rammed into the cab. The 20mm armour piercing tracer rounds drilled clean through the bullet proof glass and armour plating of the hood. The windshield exploded inwards and Mikhail's upper body erupted into a cloud of blood along with fragments of flying bone and flesh. As the 20mm tracer bullets sliced across the tractor unit, turning the armour plate into twisted fragments where it struck, the entire hood of the W900 disintegrated as it's entire engine block, battery and radiator, punctured by the devastative armour piercing rounds, exploded into a mass of twisted armour fragments, metal shards, flying out of a billowing plume of black smoke dotted by spurts of flames while the front wheels went flying towards the north and south walls, each one leaving a trail of black smoke and flames.
"WELL DONE MAAAAAXXXX!" the Chief hollered back at the command centre window, with his hands and M16 over his head as 99 breathed with relief as she lowered her smoking pistol.
"BLOODY ELL!" Ireson hollered as he managed to fling the driver's side door open a second behind SS-19 and they both leaped out angling their jump towards the rear of the tractor unit.
While they were both still in mid-air, the yellow laser like stream of bullets continued tearing a wide deep groove across the hangar floor between the 2 trucks, kicking up a 10 foot wall of concrete dust and fragments before pummelling the red W900 with the same result. The 20mm tracer rounds sliced into the Kenworth, shredding the light armour, turning the bullet proof windows and windshields to dust that showered SS-19 and Ireson as they sailed through the air in their leap. A second later, the entire hood of the red W900 exploded into black smoke and flames out of which flew and arced, hundreds of spinning, flaming fragments of armour plate, engine, radiator and assorted parts.
SS-19's booted toes struck the hangar floor and she curled into a tight black ball, rolling smoothly on the floor as the box trailer roared past on her right. But it was carried only by it's momentum as it's source of locomotion was gone. As she came to a crouch, she saw both the box trailers rear bumpers shoot out of the hangar doors, their wheels churning up a wave of snow, but only for about 20 feet of it before they, along with the charred remnant of their tractor units came to a groaning screeching halt.
The M61A1 Vulcan's tracer rounds blasted a continuous wall of concrete from the hangar floor as it continued towards the south wall but luckily, in the command centre, Max realising he wasn't going to work the stick out of his butt in this manner pulled his hand back, releasing the trigger. The line of devastative 20mm death stopped just 10 feet from a group of slumbering Air Force personnel near the south wall.
His sky blue eyes blinking finally, Gerd titled his head to look over Max's shoulder as he maintained his grip to see the smoking wreck of the permanently stalled Kenworths in the hangar.
"Vell!" Gerd grimaced at the gasping, retching, eye popping, cheek ballooning Max. "Zhat's kind of a STICK up zer BUTT!—Oh! Look who I'm talking to!"
Gerd laughed, a maniacal sound resembling a thousand burning, snapping twigs and Max took the opportunity to hook his hands on both the crossed forearms under his chin and pulled down on them, yanking the KAOS agent close before lifting a leg to plant his shoe against the light blond man's chest.
As Max kicked out hard as he can, Gerd finally released his grip as he staggered with 86's dress shoe on his chest. As Max gasped long and hard for breath, Gerd grabbed his ankle and turned it counter-clockwise. Max's eyes popped again in surprise as he was rolled off to his right along the semi-circular console before tumbling off the curve and crashing painfully onto the floor. As he clutched his throat, tongue sticking out his mouth trying to catch his breath, the green mists around him, surging aside due to his impact revealed the body of an Air Force officer on the floor near the left side consoles, one of his eyes a bleeding crater, the golden oak leaf rank insignias on his service coat's shoulder sleeve glowing against the greenish light. Deciding that ending up like that would affect his chances for "Agent of the Year", Max forced himself back to his feet again.
SS-19 stood up and immediately, she heard a voice shout out which she gauged to be about 10 feet behind her in the direction of the east wall.
"Stop right there S-S-Nineteen! You're under arrest!" the Chief ordered, his M16 at his shoulder aimed at her back.
On the north catwalk about a hundred feet or so from the west wall, 99 was aiming Hayler's pistol at the hangar floor but the black smoke from the charred remains of the 2 tractor units were obscuring her view and she could not see the Chief or SS-19.
Max blocked a right palm heel strike and hurled a low right uppercut which Gerd stopped on his left forearm and Max immediately switched it to a right cross which the KAOS agent intercepted with his right forearm before turning it into a back fisted swing. 86 ducked under it to deliver a left hook at Gerd's ribs which the KAOS lieutenant intercepted with his left palm heel before flicking it up to deliver a left knifehand strike into the left side of Max's neck. Max's eyes rolled back along with his head and Gerd's right palm blasted into the left side of his jaw, twisting his head and body to the right and staggering him forward, arms flailing, towards the left wall's console.
Max saw nothing but flashing spots of lights against black as he stumbled forward, arms reaching out trying to grab anything for support. Another explosion of pain in his kidney, from a punch by Gerd snapped Max out of the agonizing haze, clearing his vision as he arched back with the new pain, head wrenched backwards as well, staring at the black ceiling and lights as he kept stumbling forward.
Gerd delivered left and right combinations into Max's kidneys, jerking his opponent in painful spasms with every strike. Max swore his spine was about to snap as he could not lean forward with the explosions of agony in his lower back while the blazing halogen lights behind the thick glass in the ceiling filled his entire vision. After the 5th punch to the kidney caused Max's knees to bend slightly, Gerd interlaced the fingers of his hands together and swung them in a double axe handle to smash in between Max's shoulder blades.
Max's eyes popped as his head snapped up finally as he reeled forward. The console and it's indicator lights flashed towards him and Max just barely managed to put his hands up and his palms slammed painfully into buttons and switches on the wall panel, bringing him to a stop. Lights and alarms flashed and squealed in return for his desperate braking attempt as Gerd lunged in grabbing Max's shoulders from behind. Max still managed to react and twisted his upper body to the left and whipping up his elbow to break his attacker's grip. But this allowed Gerd to lean back to avoid the Max's swinging elbow while stepping towards the left and grabbing Max's left forearm, gripping it with his left hand before hurling several right hand punches into Max's left rib cage under his arm. Each impact shook Max, causing his eyes to widen and pop as dramatically as the flashing lights from the console. The third punch bent him forward slightly towards the console and Gerd switched to delivering a side strike with his right forearm across Max's solar plexus. As the air gushed out of Max's open mouth and he doubled over the console, his knees bending even more, Gerd smashed his right forearm down into Max's left shoulder blade with a loud crunch as his shoulder came an inch from popping out of it's socket causing Max's chest to slam down on the console buttons and switches sending more indicator lights and alarms blaring.
As beeps and electronic squealing assaulted Max's face with his right cheek pressed against the surface, his eyes popping in pain, Gerd, still holding onto his left forearm out to the side, delivered another elbow smash down into Max's back, below his left shoulder blade. The impact shook the console under Max's cheek and chest and his knees began dropping to the floor, his eyes bulging, mouth opened as thought caught in the middle of some new revelation he was trying to express.
As Max's chest and face dragged over the console on his way to the floor, Gerd turned his right side to Max and leaped vertically up into the air, his Air Force service trouser clad legs cycling in mid-air in a bluish blur before his left knee remained raised and his right leg rocketed downwards at an angle, the right shoe colliding into Max's left side under his arm. As pain exploded in his ribcage and he was flung sideways off the console, Max realized he might not finish organising the Spy Frolics this year. Max landed on the floor on his right side and as pain again exploded from his entire ribcage now, popping his eyes wide, he rolled over the floor, diagonally from the console towards the angled windows ploughing a 5 foot furrow in the blanket of green fog over the floor. When he came to a stop finally, on his stomach, Max planted his hands on the floor and lifted his head painfully just as the parted emerald mists enabled him to stare at the gory bespectacled face of a young airman on the floor near him, blood pouring over his face from the crater that was once his eye while the remaining eye stared at nothing.
Max had no time to be horrified as Gerd was already charging at him. And far more importantly, at that moment, 86 realised his right hand planted on the floor under the green mists had rested on something familiar. Turning onto his right side and bearing with the blast of pain from his ribs and back, Max faced the charging Gerd while lifting his right arm out of the mist with a S&W Model 15 that had fallen near the bespectacled airman, in his hand.
Max squeezed the trigger as Gerd's swinging right foot struck the inside of his forearm sending the shot wide. Even as the revolver flew out of his hand towards the left side wall control panel, Max saw Gerd twisting as a fountain of blood exploded from his left deltoid muscle. Max leaped to his feet as his body screamed in pain, lunging for the left side wall where the Model 15 had landed on a console beneath several CCTV screens. He grabbed the revolver and was shocked as Gerd still managed to tackle him grabbing his gun wrist in his left hand. Both of them wrestled and struggled and despite the blood pouring from his left deltoid, soaking his service uniform's left sleeve, Gerd's left hand still managed to maintained a vice like grip on Max's right wrist, preventing him from aiming the weapon. Continual blasts of agony gripped Max's ribcage and back while his face was a throbbing mass of pain as he struggled for breath, back pedalling towards the window under Gerd's relentless charge.
Max could see in his peripheral vision, the central windowpane which was riddled with bullet holes rushing at him as he failed to find the stop his forced backpedal. He had a final glimpse of the maniacal icy blue flash of Gerd's irises just before they both fell towards the weakened, forward angled black central window pane.
"Put your gun down on the floor and your hand behind your head!" the Chief ordered striding towards SS-19's back.
SS-19 with her left hand raised took hold of the Luger P08 at her right hip. 99 on the north wall's catwalk, ran a few feet towards the east, gloved hands aiming Hayler's pistol, trying to get a view through the wall of black billowing smoke from the destroyed W900's as her breath misted before her parted lips and under her skirt, the relentless invasive frosted air numbed the bare top of her thighs and hips while her loins and buttocks felt as though they were encased in ice.
"Don't try anything S-S-Nineteen!" the Chief ordered as the black veiled woman slowly drew her Luger P08. "It's over! Just come…"
The central windowpane of the command centre's forward angled windows exploded outwards in a shower of black glass shards. The Chief and 99 turned at the noise and both gaped as they saw the Davy's gray suited Max and the blue Air Force service uniformed Gerd fall out along with the shower of black glass to crash down on the wide east wall catwalk below the window with a resounding clang.
"Maaaaaaax!" 99's cry punctured the cold air in the hangar and rapid clanging is heard as she ran along the cat walk towards the east wall. "Maaaax! Hold on!"
As he watched 99 running, the Chief realised his mistake and quickly turned back to see SS-19 running towards the south wall. He squeezed down on the trigger and the M16's duckbill flash suppressor blazed. SS-19 dived forward and the floor her boots were on a split second ago exploded in a small plume of concrete fragments and dust as she shoulder rolled. The chief swung his M16 after her only to hear 99's shout from the north catwalk.
"Chief! Look out!"
The Chief turned his head to his right, realizing that the gunfire must have called 99's attention back and just in time for out of the billowing black smoke of the W900 wreckages came Ireson, a slender submachine gun with a curved 34 round magazine that fitted into the left side of the receiver in gloved hands. Ireson had the butt stock unfolded and pressed to his shoulder. The Chief could only run as the Sterling L2A3 (Mark 4) submachine gun droned it's deadly chorus. 9mm Parabellum shells tore a line over the floor behind the Chief's feet sending thin columns of concrete dust leaping into the air. The Chief felt bullets whipping his pant leg forcing him to leap in another direction. He landed heavily as the line of bullets raced across the floor in a line of erupting concrete dust through where he had been just a second ago.
Ireson swung the ported barrel of the Mark 4 towards the Chief just as a shot rang out blowing a small hole in the floor next to his right overshoe boot.
"Cor blast me!" Ireson scowled through his GP-5 as he turned towards the north catwalk. "That bloody craze me!"
99 having stopped about 40 feet from the east wall, and keeping the struggle on the east catwalk in her peripheral vision, squeezed the trigger again and the slide locks back as sparks exploded against the steel barricade of the railing making her drop sideways to the floor and she felt a hot burn in her left deltoid. As she landed with a metallic clang on the floor of the catwalk and winding lines of bullet holes burst out on the wall spewing concrete dust onto her, she saw the blood spreading out over her arm turning her wool jacket's sleeve from navy blue to black. Gritting her teeth against the pain, her gloved thumb mashed the button behind the trigger guard, dropping the empty clip as her left gloved hand slid in a new one before thumbing the slide release.
The Chief sitting up on the floor levelled his M16 at Ireson who kept a steady stream of bullets at the section of the catwalk and wall where 99 was hiding. He squeezed the trigger but the billowing smoke affected his aim and his shots raked the floor beyond Ireson. The KAOS agent whipped back towards him, the Mark 4's muzzle blazing as it droned. Bullets impacted the floor and streaked in a line of concrete dust towards the Chief's shoe.
The Chief realised even if he rolled clear, Ireson would reacquire him in a split second. The flying concrete inches from his shoes, 99 sprang up on the catwalk, pistol gripped in her gloved hands. Despite the fiery pain in her left deltoid against the now-freezing air in the hangar, 99 squeezed the trigger repeatedly. The first shot struck the floor near Ireson's overshoe boot again making him whip back towards the north catwalk, Sterling flashing but stopped almost instantly as his upper body shook spasmodically as 9mm Parabellum FMJ rounds struck his chest and lungs, exiting in crimson fountains out his back through shoulder blade and spine knocking him off his feet to land his back.
As Ireson's body struck the hangar floor with a wet slap, the Chief pulled himself to a crouch and looked towards the south wall just in time to see SS-19 running along it so fast she appeared to be simply a black streak. She was less than 20 feet from the parking lots at the southern wall next to the hangar doors.
Putting the M16 to his shoulder, the Chief held the trigger down. The M16 kicked at his shoulder and a line of concrete spewing bullet holes raked the south wall, chasing SS-19. Somehow, she managed to keep ahead till she reached the first vehicle parked in the first lot, a hard top jeep with it's rear bumper at the wall. As horizontal streaks of concrete erupted from the south wall, closed in on her back, SS-19 leaped onto the hood of the jeep, landing and rolling across it with hollow thumps of the metal cover before dropping behind it on the other side just as the left side windows of the vehicle exploded into a hundred glass shards as the 5.56mm pursuers struck home.
The Chief lunged to his feet running in the direction of the south wall towards a towing vehicle that had skidded to a stop near it. His M16 was empty, smoke wafting out of the bolt chamber and he just managed to dive behind the towing vehicle which had come to a stop at a slanting angle with it's front fender against the wall, when SS-19's head appeared over the hood of the jeep with an M16 she had picked up aimed across it. The weapon droned to life and sparks erupted from the body of the towing vehicle making the Chief lie on his side as he tossed aside the empty magazine.
99's booted feet clanged the metal floor of the catwalk as she ran towards the west end to get a better line of fire, her breath shooting out her lips and nostrils in conical blasts of mist while her teeth chattered. Her movement was the only thing keeping her legs from going completely numb from the cold and her unprotected hips and top of her thighs felt as if they were wrapped in ice while her loins and buttocks seemed immersed in freezing water. She could see SS-19 firing away at the towing vehicle, keeping the Chief pinned. Arriving at a point in the catwalk 50 feet or so before the west wall, 99 stopped, immediately feeling the cold tighten it's grip on her thighs and aimed Hayler's heavy but well balanced semi-automatic pistol. The gun roared and flashed in her gloved hands with minimal recoil due to its weight.
SS-19 jerked back, her M16 ceasing to blaze as shots from the pistol struck the windshield of the jeep near her veil. Whipping towards the north wall in her crouch, she blazed away at the origin of the shots. 99 ducked down behind the railing which immediately fountained with impact sparks while the wall immediately beyond were pummelled with holes which rained concrete fragments and dust onto her.
This however, gave the Chief time to crawl on his belly to a sleeping Air Policeman a few feet away and he quickly pulled all the spare magazines from the man's flak jacket pouches. A few seconds later, he was back at the towing vehicle on one knee firing his reloaded M16. The right side fender of SS-19's jeep sparked and erupted with holes just before the corresponding tire exploded making her duck back down.
The first thing that struck Max right after the shattering black glass of the window, was the cold. Even as he and Gerd fell, seemingly in slow motion, still struggling for the S&W Model 15, Max was shocked at the freezing temperature in the hangar which he had till now been unaware of, while being in the climate controlled command centre. The frosty air sliced right through his Davy's gray suit and their breaths fogged in each other's faces as they plummeted downwards along with hundreds of shards of glass around them.
Max thought he and Gerd were headed to the hangar floor but he remembered at the last moment that this was not so which gave him the impetus to roll in mid-air at the very last moment and yank at Gerd's Air Force service uniform lapel. This pulled Gerd off him so that they both continued their fall, sideways instead of Gerd being on top of him. With a thunderous metallic clang, both of them crashed down onto the east wall's catwalk just over 6 feet below the bottom of the command centre's windows, with their heads pointed towards the south wall.
The entire catwalk, wider than the north and south wall's passageways reverberated with their impact and for a second, both of them laid stunned on their sides as black glass shards and fragments rained down on them and the floor of the catwalk. Pain again exploded through Max's entire ribcage and chest along with his neck, face and head and all he could hear was a ringing sound, punctuated by dull whumps in the distance which he realized must be gun shots which he had no time to worry about. At the same time, another sound fought through the ringing and he struggled to make sense of it, shaking his head and it sounded like aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhxxxx.
Finally the ringing subsided enough for him to realize it was 99 yelling his name.
"….aaaaax! Hold on!" followed by rapid clanging of small booted feet on metal from the direction of the north catwalk.
Unfortunately, despite having landed just as hard with his wounded deltoid hitting the catwalk floor, Gerd still recovered faster, rolling lithely onto his hands and toes like a sprinter start the 100 meter dash, looking southwards. That was when Max realised the revolver was no longer in his hand. Grunting against the pain in his upper body, 86 rolled over to look in the same direction and saw that the S&W Model 15 had landed just 10 feet away from the stair case at the end of the catwalk connecting to the southern catwalk.
"Chief! Look out!" Max heard 99 yell and the clanging of her boots on the north catwalk stopped just as Gerd turned into a blue blur as he launched himself southwards.
Max just barely reached out and grabbed Gerd's flashing ankle, tripping the KAOS agent and landing him heavily on his chest and stomach, shaking the entire catwalk. More gun shots thundered from the hangar and also singular shots from 99's direction.
Great! What happened to Hold on Max! Max grumbled in his mind as he struggled up and threw himself onto Gerd's back, grabbing his shoulders. What ever happened to looking out for your partner first?!Sometimes he just didn't GET that agent! Always calling his name as though she thought of herself as a woman he would find attractive instead of just another agent and a little girl, albeit not exactly a bad looking one. But a woman?!Max continued his mental grumbling as Gerd twisted on the catwalk and slammed an elbow into his chest knocking him off.
Max slammed backwards onto his butt and his eyes again popped open and his cheeks bulged as though he was blowing hard as a blast of agony shot up his tailbone and bruised jewels while his back struck the railing. Gerd managed to get one knee up and Max, pain gripping his chest and ribs lunged again, throwing himself across Gerd's back and with a right hammer-fist, struck the gunshot wound on Gerd's left deltoid.
The only response from Gerd was a sharp grunt which turned into an annoyed growl as Max struck the bloodied wound again only to have the KAOS agent's elbow blast back into his ribs and rolling him off. As Max struck the catwalk behind Gerd's feet, he realized he wasn't going to make it to the revolver himself and as a last resort, he grabbed at his watch, pressing the secret button on it and the watch face flipped open revealing the secret compartment filled with the purple glass pellets. A tilt of his hand poured them into the palm of his right hand and he forced himself to his knees to throw some at the revolver hoping to destroy it.
Unfortunately, the 4 pellets that he threw sailed over Gerd towards the revolver but over shot it, landing about 5 feet beyond the weapon where they burst into a purple cloud. Max grimaced even as the sizzling of the acid attacking the metal catwalk floor and railings instead, filled the air. He lifted his right hand to throw again but unfortunately, Gerd up in a crouch and facing southwards saw the swirling purple gas and realised what he was doing.
Max with his forearm up to make the toss saw Gerd's right foot lashing backwards at his face in a jaw breaking kick and he just barely managed to throw himself sideways which rewarded him with another pulse of agony in his ribs. Gerd's service dress shoe whistled past Max's right ear but unfortunately struck his raised forearm, knocking it backwards.
As Max landed on his butt again with another blast of agony and his back struck the east wall this time, he watched, gaping with bulging eyes as the remaining 7 or 8 pellets sailed through the air in the direction of the north wall only to land in a clatter right before the staircase at the end of eastern catwalk which connected it to the northern catwalk. Max's eyes bulged further and his lips peeled back to reveal his teeth gritting in horror as the larger number of pellets shattered and a wall of purple gas shot up into the air, cutting the staircase from view and a sizzling that sounded like the combined output of 200 frying pans churning out over-greased hamburgers and sausages in 200 grimy diners all across the country, nearly drowned out the ongoing roar of the gun shots.
Max could see a line of bubbling metal in a line all across the catwalk where the gas was as well as a vertical line of dissolving smoking action up the railing where the side of the purple gas wall touched it. The metallic pounding of shoes and shaking of the catwalk caused Max to whip is head towards the southern end of the east catwalk where he saw Gerd dashing towards the revolver which laid just out of reach of the more discrete purple cloud that continued to attack the catwalk floor and railings at that end.
As Gerd came within his last few steps towards the weapon, Max whipped his head back towards the northern end of the catwalk with a painful click in his neck and gaped at the roiling purple wall. He saw the base of the cloud wall on the catwalk floor was now a horizontal widening line of purple liquid where there was once solid steel and a similar vertical result was boiling and sizzling into being on the railing. That was when the catwalk started to shake and vibrate under his aching butt and tailbone and Max forgot all about Gerd as he leaped to his feet and dashed towards the liquefying end of the catwalk and the wall of purple gas which continued to rise towards the hangar ceiling.
Gerd reached the S&W Model 15, ignoring the bubbling purple line across the catwalk floor just beyond it. With a sweep of his hand, he grabbed the weapon and turned, aiming it at Max's shrinking back as the CONTROL agent tore in the other direction seemingly at a huge wall of purple gas. Gerd's eyes flared with frosted blue light as he focused on his target, aligning the sights of the revolver on Max's spine just as the entire catwalk rocked and tilted beneath both their feet throwing his aim off.
Then, the purple acidic gas finished eating through the railing and the catwalk floor in a neat vertical and horizontal line at the northern end and with an ear splitting, teeth grinding metallic squeal, the edges tore free from each other, just 3 feet from the staircase leading up to the northern catwalk tilting downwards, bearing the weight on the other end. And at the southern end, behind Gerd, the line of the purple acid gas, dissolving at a much slower rate weakened and served as a hinge.
Both Gerd's crystal blue eyes and Max's beady black ones popped as the catwalk under their feet swung down away from them, swinging by it's weakened southern end. As the catwalk swung downwards away from his feet, Max made a desperate leap and he sailed through the last 6 to 7 feet before the purple cloud, his legs running in mid-air along with his flailing arms. Max's eyes popped again as he sailed right into the wall of purple gas while behind him, Gerd's limpid blue eyes flared in absolute shock as he dropped vertically along with the downward swinging catwalk, his unbuttoned Air Force service jacket flying open.
The catwalk swung down with it's continual ear splitting rending of steel, it's broken off northern end trailing a billowing tail of purple gas and Gerd's shoes slipped as the catwalk hit 40 degrees from it's original position. He fell onto his back on the downward slanting catwalk and surged downwards at an increasingly steep angle like a child on a playground slide.
Gerd reached out desperately for hand holds as the railing and east wall flashed by on either side of him and the wall of purple gas at the other end rushed up at him. However, the railing top was too high up with him on his back.
The gunfire out in the hangar ceased as the Chief, 99 and even SS-19 paused to gape at the eastern catwalk, swinging downwards in a counter-clockwise direction belching purple smoke from it's northern end.
"MAAAAAAAX!" 99 hollered as she saw him sailing through the air at the northern end as the catwalk departed downwards from his feet. With her angle, she lost sight of his flailing form as he hurtled right into the wall of purple miasma at the northern end of the staircase.
Gerd had not time to yell as he surged right into the purple cloud at the end of the catwalk just before it became completely vertical. For a split second all he saw was purple and then, it all cleared and he was plummeting down towards the hangar floor. His crystalline blue eyes gaped at the hangar floor but he realised, more immediately, rushing up to meet him were actually 2 forklifts, one having crashed sideways into the wall of the internal building 30 feet to the right of the main door and another one had crashed into it's side with it's mast pressing against the overhead guard of the first vehicle. This rough "T" of their partially conjoined overhead guards and mast surged up at Gerd just as his downward trajectory turned his body horizontal and left him grasping with his hands at the air above him and he saw the smouldering end of the catwalk now completely vertical, shrinking away.
Gerd struck the overhead guards of the 2 forklifts on his back, landing right where the overhead guard and the mast joined each other. The metal overhead guards buckled slightly under his weight and impact but held while the mast remained solid while Gerd's entire spine shattered inside him, each vertebra splitting and cracking on it's own and also separating from it's neighbour like a shattering chain. He laid there, unable to move, staring up at the purple gas trailing end of the catwalk far above him just as the purple gas at the southern end of the catwalk finally finished it's work and with a similar rending of steel, broke free.
Gerd's pellucid blue eyes snapped wide as his statue perfect features twisted into a mask of horror as the vertical pointing catwalk hurtled down towards like a spear, almost completely shrouded by the vertical trail of purple gas shooting upwards now over it.
The purple gassy streak rocketed downwards and the jagged leading end landed in Gerd's ribcage, slicing right through his body and spine to continue downwards, smashing through the 2 forklifts in an explosive sound of twisting, crumpling steel and metal as it cleaved the one against the wall in half while the other one's rear tires tilted off the floor as it's mast and carriage were crushed. 99 clamped a gloved hand over her mouth and shut her eyes as Gerd's upper body flew off the top of the forklifts in the direction of the south wall while his lower torso and legs went sailing in the other direction. The purple gas shrouded piece of catwalk remained in place, sticking vertically in the wreckage of the 2 forklifts while Gerd's lower body landed in a bloody tangle of legs and intenstines just before the main door of the building to continue spewing a crimson pool over the concrete while his upper half struck the floor just a few feet from the south wall leaving a bloody trail of guts and spinal fluid over the floor. The cold light faded from Gerd's icy crystalline blue irises as he finally stared into oblivion.
As Gerd and one of the forklifts were being sliced in half and the Chief gaped at it and 99 looked anxiously for Max, SS-19 tossed aside her empty M16 before dashing across the hangar towards the north wall.
"Max!" 99 called towards the east end of the north catwalk. "Maaaaaax! Are you alright?! Maaaa…MAX!"
99's eyes lit up with a warm blue light that pierced the emerald haze all around them as she saw a hunched, Davy's gray suited figure step onto the east end of the north wall's catwalk from the connecting staircase. Max's arms practically hung towards the ground like a tired gorilla as he remained bent and seemed incapable of straightening.
"MAX! Are you okaaay?!" 99 called out.
Max turned to face her from the end of the catwalk and nodding wearily, he shouted back.
"Ninety-Nine!"
"Yes Max!"
"Next time you tell someone to hold ON?! You GET to where he's holding ON!"
99's breath turned to mist as she sighed and her blue eyes rolled sideways to the right and immediately, she gaped and yelled.
"CHIEF! Look THERE!"
"There she goes again!" Max rolled his beady eyes while tossing his arms up in the air.
The Chief spun around from the strange catwalk, wrecked forklift caricature to 99 shouting on the catwalk before turning again to see SS-19's streaking black form about 30 feet from the North wall. He immediately shouldered his M16 and held the trigger. The staccato droning of the assault rifle sent a line of concrete dust spewing upwards over the hangar floor, closing in on SS-19's heels. 99 ran again towards the west end, Hayler's pistol in her gloved hands blazing, shot after shot while Max staggered along on the catwalk towards her, knees bent and legs far apart, eyes wide with agony.
SS-19 could feel the concrete dust from the closing stream of M16 fire at her heels while smaller spurts of concrete flew up around her feet from 99's pistol. She dashed past the burning wreckages of the formerly pale gray and dark green Land Rovers, the heat bathing her left side just before diving forward and the M16 barrage shattered the concrete where her boots had been a split second earlier.
The black clothed KAOS agent shoulder rolled to a crouch, her veil somehow staying in place and just as the Chief took aim at her again along with 99 from the catwalk, SS-19's right gloved hand lifted from her utility belt holding a black steel cylinder with a red button on top. As both the Chief and 99's fingers tightened on their weapons' triggers, SS-19's gloved thumb mashed the red button producing a click and a beep.
The entire hangar rocked and every other sound in the cavernous hangar was drowned out by what sounded like an actual thunderclap. As the Chief was thrown forward onto the towing vehicle, he half twisted and gawked towards the east end of the hangar as the cockpit and head of the AV-Seven-Z Harrier within the first revetment at the North wall turned into a ball of fire from which twisted flaming metal fragments and glass rocketed out of, as a result of the explosives planted inside by the KAOS agents while they were removing the X-10s. Within a second later the first Harrier at the south wall was explosively decapitated as well and chunks of twisted steel and glass blasted into the air like a grim fireworks display.
99 was thrown down onto her side as the catwalk rocked with the explosion along with Max who landed on his stomach and chest with eyes popping and cheeks ballooning in agony.
Even as the 3rd Harrier's cockpit and head exploded followed by the 4th, and the hangar floor shook as violently as the shocks from a 6.5 earthquake, SS-19 ran towards the matte-brown Land Rover, still intact despite it's devastated rear tires and bumper. She reached it just as the 5th explosion thundered through the space and she could hear the expected distant roar. Flinging open the passenger door, she jumped inside.
The 6th Harrier's head disappeared in a blossoming inferno as it sat in it's south side revetment and it's twisted, flaming metallic remnants flung out of the flames into the air arcing in all directions. One of the pieces of metal, spun end over end with a small flame until it struck the south wall above the catwalk, plunging into the concrete like a thrown knife. Another twisted piece of metal arced towards the north wall and plunged into the wall just 10 feet from 99s booted feet in the direction of the east wall causing her to emit a shocked scream as she pulled her boots in.
The Chief tried to regain his feet but the 7th explosion threw him off his shoes in the other direction to land painfully on the floor on his back, his M16 flying from his hands. Smoking and flaming pieces of wreckage landed on the hangar floor as far as 300 feet from the revetments. A flaming cockpit canopy spun eastwards and exploded into a hundred shards against the east wall just below the command centre window.
The Chief managed to push himself to a crouch on the rocking floor to see SS-19 emerging from the matte-brown Land Rover with a backpack on her back and a white plastic box or container under her left arm about 12 x 10 x 10 inches in size. The Chief could see the Red Cross symbol on their lids and realised what it was. He struggled to his feet and ran towards his M16 but the jarring floor threw him to the floor again.
SS-19 was just easing herself back out from the Land Rover, her head still bent to clear the roof, the white plastic container under her left arm and the heavy backpack on her back. She had just lifted her veiled head and about to turn towards the parking lots when a shot cracked through the thundering explosions.
The edge of the plastic box facing forward under her arm shattered and SS-19 jerked aside dropping the container as fragments of white plastic struck her. She staggered back and realised the container now laid on the floor, a massive ragged hole where one edge of it used to be and the hundreds of syrettes inside spilled out over the hangar floor, some of them ruptured and their transparent liquid contents pooling beneath the dispensers.
Turning to her left and gazing up, SS-19 saw, up on the north catwalk, more than halfway towards the hangar door direction now, was 99, having recovered her feet and gripping in her gloved hands, a heavy semi-automatic pistol. SS-19 could see 99's brilliant blue eyes narrowing and the former exploded into motion, diving away from the Land Rover just as the latter's next shot struck the edge of the roof through the space occupied by SS-19 a second ago.
99 aimed as the catwalk reverberated beneath her boots and squeezed the trigger again but SS-19 instead of landing on her stomach, landed on a handstand and flipped her body forward and over avoiding a shot that sizzled through the air where her legs had been.
SS-19 regained her feet and became a black streak dashing for the vehicles at the parking lots to the right of the hangar doors. 99 fired twice more, but SS-19 moved so fast the bullets were a split second late, allowing the veiled woman to duck in between two vehicles as the pistol's slide locked back again with the last round ejected.
As 99's black leather gloved thumb mashed the magazine release and she searched frantically for another clip, SS-19 tossed the backpack into the rear seat of the hard top Fiat 1101 Campagnola that the advance party had arrived in along with the backpack before jumping into the driver's seat and slamming the door shut. She was more concerned now with the increasingly loud rumbling and roar from the direction of the hangar door that grew louder by the second rather than more impending explosions. The key had been with the advance team and SS-19 reached under the steering column and ripped out the wires connecting to the ignition switch. Her gloved fingers worked in blur as she touched the exposed wire tips together producing a spark and the Fiat 1101's purred to life. Grabbing the steering wheel, she slammed the gearshift into reverse and stomped on the accelerator and clutch.
As the tires of the Fiat 1101 squealed and smoked against the hangar floor to gain traction the 8th explosion tore the air of the hangar and the Chief who was up on his hand and knees, was thrown back down painfully onto his chest and stomach.
Max rolled onto his side on the rocking north wall catwalk and his beady little eyes bulged into black moons as they saw a flaming piece of left over steel from a Harrier cockpit spin through the air like the flaming projectile from a medieval catapult, in an arc right at the north wall and most importantly—right at HIM. Pain chorusing from every inch of his upper body and neck, Max lunged to get his feet under him.
The massive flaming piece of twisted charred steel smashed into the wall and the catwalk where Max was with a thundering metallic crash, plunging deep into the wall and cutting through that section of the catwalk floor and railing. Smoke continued to belch from it along with fire both of which enveloped the twisted, ragged ends of the catwalk.
"MAAAAAAAAXXXX!" 99's hoarse scream sliced through the thunder all around them as she lost sight of him, empty pistol in one gloved hand and spare magazine in the other.
The Chief managed to lift his head painfully as he heard the sound of an engine revving to life and he opened his eyes just in time to see a white hard top jeep surged backwards, out from the parking lot before swerving to point it's front fender at the blackness beyond the hangar door. It was all the Chief could do to force himself to his feet as the tires of the Fiat 1101 spun and screamed on the hangar floor for a few seconds for traction before it barrelled forward.
Shots rang out and the Chief looked up to the north catwalk to see 99 firing with her pistol again. But the Fiat continued surging forward even as it's tail lights exploded along with it's rear windshield and it finally whipped through the flames of the 2 burning Land Rovers. The Chief could only stare in rage as snow sprayed to either side of the escaping vehicle as it roared out into the valley beyond the hangar door.
A second later, the darkness beyond the lights of the hangar welcomed the Fiat and hid it from view. It was only then that the Chief became aware of another roar and the floor of the hangar began shaking again. His eyes widened as he looked back at the headless, burning Harriers inside their revetments.
"MAAAAAAAXXXXX!" 99 screamed again, running back towards the wreckage that had almost struck her and barring her from moving further to look for 86.
Staring from the burning jet fighters and then turning to 99 screaming for Max, the Chief now became aware of another sound and turned to stare at the rectangle of black that was the hangar doorway before turning and despite the pain in his body ran for all he was worth towards the revetments and the internal building.
99, tears running down her face also turned at the sound. She saw the Chief running and her blue eyes flicked over the burning Harriers and then at the hangar door where the roar was coming from and she came to the same conclusion. With nowhere to run due the giant fragments lodged in the catwalk before her, she threw herself down flat on the catwalk.
The Chief was 200 feet from the side tunnel when it happened.
Tonnes upon tonnes of ice and snow on the mountain face outside plunged downwards, crashing and blasting in all directions. The avalanche, triggered by the explosions as the KAOS agents had planned, smashed down on the upturned rock wall in sheets, showers, and boulders of rock, snow and ice. The mighty hidden hinges that held the rock wall up held only for a few seconds before the force of ice, snow and nature tore it loose with a scream of iron and steel. The rock wall fell under tonnes of snow, ice and boulders to slam down on the floor as the avalanche roared out from the mountain base surging through and over the valley, burying it.
Inside the hangar, a tidal wave of ice and snow blasted in through the door, burying the wrecked Land Rovers and extinguishing the blazing inferno before fanning out to the sides and tossing the remaining jeeps and snowmobiles up in the air rendering them as flimsy as toys compared to the raging force of the mountain. The wall of snow, boulders and ice continued to surge forward in a white tidal wave with bumpers, fenders, roofs of vehicles and rock pitting it's churning façade, it's roar more massive than anything the vehicles and gunfire preceding it could match.
The Chief ran till his lungs almost gave out. He realised he was not going to make it to the tunnel where he hoped to take shelter as the roar of the avalanche drowned out everything else in the hangar. Just as he could barely see through the own fog of his breath, the roar of the tsunami of snow inside the hangar, stopped. The Chief stumbled to a stop in his run, 20 feet before the tunnel and turned to stare in shock at the sight before him. About 100 feet in from the hangar doors, the space was filled with snow, ice and boulders, all the way up to the walls on either side and the same length of the catwalks on both the north and south walls were buried inside the wall of white.
Looking about, the Chief blew out a foggy breath of relief as he saw the area was clear of slumbering airmen as SS-19 had apparently expected this and had them clustered further inside the hangar beyond the reach of the avalanche. However, the Chief could still hear the onslaught continuing outside the hangar and he could only imagine the devastation being wrought to the landscape.
"Maaaaax! MAAAAAAX! Where ARE YOOOOOOUUU!"
99's anguished screams turned the Chief to the north wall's catwalk where about 200 feet from the internal building, he saw her standing and crying out. And he could see why. There were at least 2 huge pieces of wreckage, stuck into the wall and catwalks at different intervals toward the east wall with flames and smoke rising from it.
Uncaring of her own safety, 99 stood near the fragment stuck in the wall and catwalk closest to her, leaning sideways over the railing to see the other larger fragment about 20 feet further down, smouldering and burning.
"MAAAAAAXXXX!" she cried. "Maaaaa…x!"
Exhausted, and her left arm burning increasingly in pain, 99's head dropped forward onto her forearms on the railing as she sobbed. Her flak jacket with the remaining M16 ammunition, bearable at her peak physical efficiency now felt as heavy as a shell of lead which caused her knees to begin buckling. As she sobbed and cried into her jacket sleeve, she did not even care that she could not feel her thighs anymore or that from the hip down under her skirt, she felt as though she was standing in sub-arctic waters.
"Ninety-Nine!"
The Chief's voice reached her just before her stockinged knees touched the catwalk floor.
"Ninety-Nine! Look!"
This made her finally lift her head, rich brown hair plastered to the tears on her softly distinct cheekbones. When her vision cleared, she saw the Chief, standing just outside the tunnel entrance pointing towards the east end of the hangar.
Her heart pounding in her breast, 99 found the strength to straighten her knees and wipe a gloved hand over her eyes before leaning over so hard she nearly fell over the railing to stare down the catwalk past the Harrier fragments. The smoke continue to billow like thick black cotton wool from the larger fragment stuck in the wall. But as she stared, the smoke began to dissipate and a movement caught her attention on the other side of the fragment, about 10 feet beyond it.
Blue light returned to her eyes as her soft lips parted and joy infused with relief pumped her heart and strength returned to her legs as 99 saw the Davy's gray suited figure on the catwalk through the thinning smoke.
Max, leaning sideways over the railing, cheekbones and jaw turning purplish blue with bruising, lifted his right hand to indicate less than an inch of space between his index finger tip and thumb as his nasal voice clipped out over the snow and icy devastation all around them.
"Missed me by—THAT much!"