Intrepid

Five went into the valley between the hills to help wounded troops in armor. From these Guard Fusiliers there was gratitude for water, and help bandaging wounds, but no takers on being evacuated. They clutched their rifles and lay ready to do what their orders called for once the shooting started again.

NELLY, REMIND ME TO PASS THAT ALONG TO GUNNY.

YES, MA'AM. HARD CASES FOR HARD CASES, judged the computer.

The judgment struck Kris as obvious. That her computer felt compelled to make it, and did, struck Kris as another reason to talk to Auntie Tru.

Once the rescue operations had the bugs worked out, Kris continued her walk back inside the caves. Here and there, fifty-pound bags of rice half blocked or provided cover in the tunnels. Someone was thinking ahead for when the cave openings got breached. Kris shivered in the cool dark. If it came to fighting in here, the blood would be ankle deep. But if it came to fighting in here, would she throw in the sponge?

A woman came along with a wheelbarrow, pushing one of the fifty-pound rice bags. She seemed to know the caves very well. After looking around for a minute to get her bearings, she upended the barrow and dumped the sack. ''That ought to cover that entire end of the cave. No religious nut is going to tell my daughter what she can be. If Amy wants to be a doctor or a dancer, she's gonna be what she wants to be.''

Kris nodded. There wasn't much room for compromise here. Maybe she didn't need to worry so much about these folks running.

Still, the worst bloodbaths happened when neither side saw any reason to retreat.

Princess, you better come up with some good reason for Cortez to throw in the towel. It doesn't look like these folks even want a towel handy.

A skinny redheaded gal galloped up to Kris. ''Penny says stuff's happening you want to see.'' Kris followed her at a fast jog back to HQ. A glance out told her it was time.

''Get me Gunny and Jack on the line,'' Kris ordered.

37

Jack stood clear as a hulking farm boy wielded the five-kilo sledgehammer. His girlfriend held the rod in place. The guy was very careful. The first two swings had not done much more than chip the hardened dirt.

The third swing drove the iron rod down as far as it would go. The kid dropped the sledge and, with the girl's help, worked the rod around in widening circles, creating more room for a rifle without widening the fire port. When they pulled the rod out, Jack shoved his rifle into place and nodded.

''It fits fine,'' he told his eager hands.

The boy hefted the hammer, the girl the bar, and they headed a couple of meters down the narrow cave, ready to do it again.

Jack put his eye to the notch and studied the swamp in the distance. Close in, a small kid was sweeping into the muddy water the dirt the rod had driven out of the firing hole.

It wouldn't do to make it any easier for Cortez's shooters to spot where the fire was coming from. So a ten-year-old kid was hanging out there. Sooner or later, Cortez would get his act together, and his troops would move up. Jack did not want to find that out by having that kid shot off the dike.

Jack headed down the cave, bent over but moving at a trot. Tommy Tzu told him they had only recently dug out this dike. ''We figured we had enough space between the house and the new paddies, but the little beggars ran all the way out here and ate an entire field clean in one night. So we dug.''

''Glad you did,'' was all Jack could say.

He stood up as he entered a cross cave with more headroom. A freckled gal attentively watched his commline. ''Nothing from Lieutenant Longknife, Captain,'' she reported.

''You keep listening. I'm going outside.''

''I'll tell you what I told my brother. Keep your head down, or Mama's gonna be real mad. You do have a mama, don't you?''

''Despite what my men may tell you,'' Jack said, eyeing a young Marine who had attached himself to the phone … or the girl at the phone, ''I was not hatched. I have a mama.''

''I told you,'' the girl said, sticking her tongue out.

''You gonna take his word or mine?'' the private shot back.

''Why don't you follow me, Marine,'' Jack said.

None too happy to be distanced from the comm girl, the Marine followed. They'd cut an exit from the tunnel and covered it with a reed mat. Jack rolled through it and landed, feet-first, in muddy water. Rifle in hand, he waded a couple of meters before raising his helmeted head.

When the Marine did the same, Jack snapped, ''Get your head down.'' The Marine did.

Jack brought binoculars up to study the tree line across glass-smooth, brown water. Not a breath of wind disturbed the water or cooled the sweat popping out on him as the sun warmed his armor.

Sergeant Bruce, who led the squad Jack had at that end of the dikes, low walked up to him, then settled into two feet of water, his back to the dike.