Intrepid

''Unfortunately not, Colonel. That's Miss Victory something. Originally, the article came with a picture of her and Kris Longknife, but the kid who had this said she was just a thin beanpole. He zoomed up the Peterwald girl and ditched the Longknife kid.''

''Rather shortsighted of him.''

''At the time, I don't think he ever expected to meet either of those girls, except maybe in his dreams.''

Cortez glanced at the story. '' ‘Guilty of many sins for which both harlots will burn deep within the worst fires of hell.' What kind of rubbish is this?'' Cortez began to wad up the flimsy, but Zhukov put his hand out to stop him.

''It's from New Jerusalem, sir. They can't put pictures of near-naked girls from other planets on the covers of their tabloids without assuring the guys reading them that said girls will burn in hell.''

''And that matters to me why?''

Zhukov flipped the paper over, ran his finger down the second column quickly, then stopped. ''Read that paragraph.''

'' ‘Miss Longknife committed many licentious acts on New Eden, including riding in cars with men she was not related or married to, masquerading as a soldier, violating planetary data censorship rules, associating with hooligans of the worst sort.' Zhukov, this does not leave me quaking in my boots.''

''Keep reading, Colonel, the last sentence.''

Cortez skipped down a half inch. '' ‘After a major disturbance of the peace that left thousands dead of gunshot wounds and explosives, Miss Longknife was escorted off New Eden by Wardhaven Marines only moments before she should have faced judgment for her many sins.' ''

Colonel Cortez looked up as he finished reading. Zhukov raised an expressive eyebrow. ''How many Marines does it take to escort a debutante, and how heavily armed were they? Are they still with her?''

Now Cortez did read the graph, slowly, wringing it out. Not one extra drop of information dripped out for him. ''I don't know,'' he said slowly. ''Thorpe showed me pictures of the ship she rode in on. Small freighter.''

''What's a Longknife doing on a small merchant ship?''

''What's a Longknife doing interfering with our little rape, pillage, and put-under-new-management scam for this planet?''

Zhukov took off his helmet and wiped at the sweat running down his face. ''What is a Longknife doing here?'' He put the helmet back on. ''So, sir. What are we about to do here?''

''If I run this collection of rattletrap trucks down that mound of dirt, there's going to be no way to turn them around.''

''So we walk?''

''And leave our spare ammo, water, and heavy machine guns behind? I think not, Major.''

Major Zhukov made no more attempts to answer his own question. He paused, an expectant expression on his face. The one smart junior officers learned early in the Torun Guard.

''We will wait for your Guard Fusiliers to catch up, and for Thorpe to make another pass and see what's changed in front of us. Then, all together, we take the battalion across, with plenty of hostages out front.''

''They will think twice about shooting,'' Major Zhukov said.

''While we're waiting, Major, you might get some of the prayer group down on their knees … with knives.''

22

Kris wasn't surprised by the picture Captain Drago unloaded to her next orbit. The hostile forces still sat where the road crossed the swamp. This Colonel Cortez could read the ground as well as she. And it spelled ambush in easy-to-read letters.

He was looking things over and giving it a long think.

It also let his rear guard, the only troops he had in armor, catch up. Smart man. So much for Kris's prayer for a brash, dumb one. Nelly had not been able to find out anything about a recently cashiered officer by the name of Cortez.

As further proof he was not dumb, the colonel didn't waste his time. He had some of the white-beret soldiers slowly making their way forward up the causeway on their hands and knees.

Kris zoomed the picture in as much as she could, then studied it carefully. Yes, one of them held something in his hand that glinted in the afternoon sun.

Kris chuckled. So, someone had saved money by skipping mine detectors. Whoever was in charge was using those white hats to fish for mines with their knives.

Jack wasn't under orders not to mine the causeway. Of course, that didn't mean he would.

Kris swallowed her chuckle. Ten hostages stood close to the slowest mine hunter. If Jack had put explosives out, things were going to get bloody a bit sooner then they wanted.

These developments were something Kris would like to talk over with her officer and NCOs. However, her LT was busy laying down two alternate tracks for this advance to contact.

And now Gunny and the other sergeants were riding along in rigs with civilians. Talking to them, telling them the bare necessities that might keep them alive. A glance at the trucks around Kris showed that the NCOs had the rapt attention of the listening farmers.

Kris assessed her progress. Measured where she needed to be by first light tomorrow. The two looked to balance.