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Valentine's men worked for hours, taking only handfuls of cold water from the river for refreshment. It was a blur of sandbagging and shoring for Valentine, all the while watching the debris-filled river as he slogged through the water on the other side of the levee. Darkness came, and still the river ran mad. Men began to drop to their knees in the water in exhaustion.
"We're losing it," Post said, watching Styachowski, up to her waist in water, direct shoring efforts. "I think it's going to go."
Valentine felt a personal animosity toward the river. It was like a living thing, determined to overcome him no matter how hard he drove himself and his men. "We're not beat yet."
Shouts and a scream. He spun to see a crowd jumping back from the levee, where part of a sandbag wall had collapsed.
"Get the bulldozer over here," Post yelled.
Valentine rushed to the site, Ahn-Kha joining him from the other side of the breach. A waterfall was coming through a notch in the levee; something had given way at the bottom and it had subsided.
"She's trapped, sir," one of the Jamaicans shouted. "It caught her on the legs as she fell."
"Who?" Valentine shouted.
"Styachowski," another said, forgetting to use her false name. "Captain Styachowski."
"It started to bulge and she jumped in with a shoring timber," Smalls said. "She was trying to place it-"
Valentine plunged into the swirling waters at the base of the fall, and began to feel around for her. He submerged. Under the water he felt a frantic hand grasp his. He pulled, but her body didn't yield. He felt around, and touched her face. Keeping a grip on her hand, he surfaced. Through cascading water, he looked up at the worried faces.
"Christ, get some of these bags away. I can feel her down there."
"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.
