The window-washer gazed disapprovingly at what he thought to be a BASE jumper, hurdling down the building he was scrubbing.
"Bloody stuntmen," he commented in his British accent, "They always get the attention. They leap from buildings and get the girls while I stand here on this suspended platform and wipe the pigeon c**p off the glass."
He chanced another look at the man. Suddenly, his disapproval turned to concern.
"Pull the ripcord, you bloody loon! I don't want brain matter on the clean windows!"
As the grumpy Brit realized there was no ripcord to pull, concern became raw horror.
"Oh c**p."
The impact split one of the high tension cables holding the platform against the building. The platform was just enough to slow the Spartan to the point where he could grasp something. He quickly clenched the second cable in his armored hands and put his feet together. When he stopped sliding, he caught his breath, and clambered up to the teetering platform.
The British repairman spewed all the vulgar language he knew at the Chief.
"Are you insane?! Why would you exit a building hundreds of stories above the pavement with no parachute?" The repairman gasped for air. "You almost killed me."
The Chief ignored the nagging custodian and sought a foothold on the railing of the listing platform. He salvaged a wrench from a secured toolbox.
"What do you suppose your gonna do with that?" the Brit asked, dumbfounded at the sight of the Spartan.
The armor-clad warrior hefted the wrench back and struck the glass hard, busting it in.
"Oh great! What is wrong with you? I just cleaned that blasted window!"
John discarded the wrench through the window and lifted the repairman, placing him inside the full, but silent conference room. Nothing more was said.
Rico watched, with a new-found respect for the Chief. As the warrior dangled from his parachute, a group of phosphorescent plasma bolts danced past his side. A squadron of reconnaissance banshees was engaging the Panauan Air Force. A G-9 Eclipse fighter streaked toward Rico. He cut away from his chute and landed atop the jet. It rolled, smacking him with its wing. An unconscious Scorpio flew like a ragdoll toward a harbor.
Time passes as John and Rico engage the advancing Covenant in two separate locations, unaware of each other's condition. Suddenly, the two find each other on the battlefield. The UNSC had made an alliance with the Panauan military and the faction groups in the local area.
The Chief edged his way toward an overpass strut. He clambered down the side and took cover behind the support. Across the freeway, he noticed Scorpio had had the same idea.
Rico took a chance and hollered across the street.
"Enemy of my enemy?"
The Spartan held up a thumb, indicating a temporary truce.
During the week of separation, the two warriors were able to get new equipment and medical treatment. They had plenty of weapons and ammo.
The two discussed a battle plan. They would commandeer Covenant Ghosts and make their way to a UNSC controlled area housing a harbor and an airport. They would then make their way to a Covenant Headquarters at the Panauan Commercial Airport. The rest of the details were worked out with UNSC cartographers.
TO BE CONTINUED...
