Chapter 1 & 2 can be seen on the S284 page on the top right, top of the sidebar.
She nodded, and then vanished back into the brush towards Marcus. That way if they did end up having to finish off the elites they could hit them from two different sides. With luck, they would be able to kill the elites before they recovered from the blast. He risked a glance around the tree. His only warning would be the explosion from the grenade, and he wouldn’t have much time to act once that happened. He scanned the trees and bushes on the other side of the clearing. He would know when he saw it … ha! There it was, to the left of the leftmost elite from Marcer’s viewing, the small glint that only showed up to him, or more accurately, the gadget over his left eye. He had a buddy in the R&D department back on the ship, and he said it was a prototype that had been planned for mass distribution to UNSC Marine squad leaders. However it quickly proved too costly to produce in sufficient amounts for the common soldier, as so many things often did, and was shut down while they moved on to different things. His friend had procured one of the prototypes for him a few weeks ago, and it had proven quite effective in the forests on the planet. It was simple, in effect. It enabled him to identify his squad members if his eye ran over them, through the barcode on their necks. The barcode for every marine was made of a single specific substance, and it read the quantity and location of the ink type used to determine the number. It then compared them to a built-in memory bank and put it up unobtrusively on the top of the small screen. He had to scan the bar codes and input them before hand into it’s memory, but because only heavily shielded objects could block it’s scanning the item was incredibly useful in forested and jungle areas to identify allies. He read Marcus’s there which meant Kayla was … there, on the opposite side. To the right of the elite farthest right. He nodded. Everything was in place, which meant Marcus would be firing any second. He got ready to spring out on his knees and checked to make sure his knife was in it’s sheath. He had been given the knife when he was a kid, and the sheath from his parents, and he had used it ever since he joined the marines. It hadn’t failed him yet. BOOM!
He moved, rushing out behind a bush to get a clear field of fire over the clearing. He was just fast enough that he saw one of Jon’s bullets go through the head of the last Elite standing. He fell, right over one of the others. Marcer saw Kayla come out into the clearing over to the right, and Marcus came out as well, slinging his grenade launcher onto his back. They checked the elites to make sure they were dead, policing their weapons. Too many marines had died because they thought an Elite was dead, and then it chopped them in half with an energy sword or fried their brains from behind. You didn’t take chances with them, not if you wanted to keep on breathing.
“I’m coming down.” Marcer heard Jon say over the comm, “There’s some difficult terrain in between, I’ll be there in 10 minutes or so.”
That bastard. It didn’t matter what “Difficult terrain” was between them, Jon could get through anything in record time, he was just using the extra time to clean his rifle. When he was issued his first SRS99C-S2 AMB Sniper Rifle, he had immediately disassembled it and rebuilt it from the ground up. Instead of having one barrel, it now had 4 smaller ones, arranged in a square formation, with an individual ammo slot for each. Instead of the typical armor-piercing rounds, it utilizes Jon’s own special rounds. Still armor piercing, Jon made them himself with his own personal kit. They were exactly the same as the normal rounds in look and effect, but made of a different metal and half the size to accommodate his rifle. Each barrel’s slot could hold 4 rounds, for a total of 16. Jon could fire all four at once linked, two linked, or single for each barrel. This meant he could go much longer than most snipers without reloading, and that had been invaluable in many engagements so far along the course of their travels. “Ok, looks like Jon won’t be here for another ten minutes. Rest up and clean up.” They knew what that meant. Check your weapons, clean them, and check again. Unlike some other squads he kept weapon maintenance as a high priority, and no member of his squad’s weapons had failed them in combat yet because of it. Kayla snorted. She knew why Jon was taking so long, and she didn’t like it. Jon made fun of her opinions on the Covenant whenever he could, and she returned the favor about the devotion he had to his weapon. It was never more than a snort here, a short argument there, so by and large he let it pass. They never let it affect how they fought, and that’s the way he liked it.
“Sir.” Marcus said, “There’s something on the Elites belt that’s beeping.”
“Beeping?” Marcer said, fearing the worst, “A grenade? Bomb?”
“Doesn’t look like it. Looks more like some kind of transmitter.”
“Kayla.” He said, motioning her over, “What is it?”
“Marcus is right.” She said, “It’s a Sangheili transmitter, and our dead guy is getting a call.”
“Well,” Marcer said, “Pick it up then!”
“She nodded, pressing one of the symbols on the strange device.” Immediately something Marcer recognized as the Elite’s odd speech started flowing out of it.
“He’s asking for a status report.” Kayla said, “Looks like they’ve seen the main forces scouts and are wondering if there’s some over here too.”
“Well tell them there isn’t any then.” Marcer said, a smile forming on his face.
“Yes sir.” Kayla said, picking the transmitter up and holding it to her mouth. Then she spoke in Sangheili.
He still didn’t know how she did it. Not just forming the right words in the language, but even making it sound like it was coming from an Elite’s mouth. The deep, guttural sound was so completely opposite from her normally brusque but light speech that it instinctively made him reach for his knife every time he heard it.
She finished speaking, and then pressed another symbol turning the thing off. “They now think that the patrol is normal and is even returning to base.”
Four dead elites, four humans in his squad. It was just too perfect. “Well then.” He said, “Let’s stroll right in then shall we?”