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"That'll open the breach," a Quisling sergeant said.
"It's already opening."
Ahn-Kha plunged in next to him as Valentine shifted his back to protect Styachowski from the sandbags sliding off the pile. He felt her hand spasm in his.
The Golden One tore into the pile, hurling sandbags right and left. Others jumped in beside.
"No, Warren, more to your right, she's under here. Ahn-Kha, pull away just above my elbow. Watch your feet, you!"
The bulldozer approached, digging in and pushing a wall of dirt toward the rescuers.
"Hold that machine, dammit, I've got a man trapped!"
"Out of the way, sir, or when the breach caves you'll be trapped too," the Quisling sergeant shouted.
Valentine felt Styachowski's hand go limp in his. He screamed through the water falling all around him.
"What's going on?" Xray-Tango called, coming around the mound of dirt pushed by the bulldozer."
"She's trapped," Ahn-Kha said. "Officer Wagner," he added, remembering to use her false name.
"How long's she been under?" Blink-blink- bliiink.
"Five minutes, maybe," someone said.
"She's dead then," the Quisling sergeant said. "Bring that bulldozer forward."
"No! I've got her hand."
"Wait, Sergeant," Xray-Tango said. Valentine met his eyes, pleading with him. Xray-Tango shifted his gaze to the bulldozer, held up a hand. Then to Valentine: "Hurry, Le Sain."
Ahn-Kha plunged into the water and found the shoring timber Styachowski had been maneuvering. Valentine watched the Grog's back, matted fur shedding water, and saw muscles heave. The pile shifted. Knotted shoulders breached, and Ahn-Kha took a breath.
"Help me, you bastards," Ahn-Kha gasped. Valentine felt something give.
Valentine heaved at the lifeless hand, terribly limp in his. She began to move. He prayed she didn't have compound fractures in her trapped legs; she'd end up looking like Narcisse, even if she wasn't paralyzed.
Anxious arms helped him bring her up out of the water. Valentine laid her out on the mound of dirt pushed up by the bulldozer.
"Work the breach, back to work," Xray-Tango shouted. The men and a smattering of prisoners started relaying sandbags. The bulldozer backed off and approached again from a new direction, digging into the ground.
Valentine saw none of it. There was just Styachowski, pale and limp beneath him, blue-faced and mottle-cheeked. He cleaned the froth from her mouth.
"Push on her legs and get the water out of her lungs," someone suggested.
Ahn-Kha knelt next to Styachowski, panting, water streaming from his body.
Valentine lifted his ear from Styachowski's chest. "That doesn't work," Valentine said, bending back her head. "Get a blanket, a dry one." He turned her head up, explored her mouth with a finger, and put his lips to hers. He forced air into her lungs.
"Get a medic, too," Xray-Tango shouted at the soldier going for a blanket.
"Ahn-Kha, push on her chest, here," Valentine said, indicating a spot "Don't be gentle about it." He pressed his lips to her cold mouth again.
The Golden One worked her heart.
"Should we rub her hands and feet?" Xray-Tango asked.
"No," Valentine said between breams. He was too busy to explain that it would draw blood away to the skin. She needed it in her brain, not her limbs.
