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"Lieutenant Handley", Valentine said, coming up and saluting. "Reporting the presence of a squad of PeaBees from Second Punishment Battalion here, carrying out salvage operations, plus prisoners".
"We didn't know any of you were in this area", Handley said.
"You're just as much a surprise to us", Valentine said. "With your permission, we'll get out of your hair and get back east". Hopefully Handley was the type who'd gladly accept the offer to have one less worry on a field operation.
Mofrey brought the rest of First Platoon up.
Valentine silently willed him to stand there. He tried to make a little "stop" gesture with his hand. Mofrey saw Spencer, still under guard in the corner, and hurried up.
Mofrey came up the center aisle. "I'm Captain Mofrey. Why's that man under arrest?"
Delta Group wasn't into saluting, and PeaBee troops didn't rate the honor from regulars anyway. "We thought he might be a deserter. Charlie, let him up".
The Bear lifted Spencer to his feet as easily as he would lift a toppled two-year-old.
Valentine heard gunfire a couple of blocks away. Handley checked his watch.
"Spencer, back with the others", Mofrey said. "Lieutenant, I have some civilians in charge. They're my responsibility, and I've no intention of letting you shoot them".
Valentine sagged, glad of the sentiment but gut-punched at how Mofrey went about it. Now the Delta Group lieutenant's decision was framed as a matter of disobeying orders or not, rather than simply seeing a minor headache disappear into the predawn.
"What makes you think you could stop us, PeaBee?" the Bear who'd lifted Spencer to his feet asked.
"They're a technical crew, hydraulics", Valentine lied, desperate to defuse the situation. "We've got a backhoe and a shovel loader we're trying to rebuild..."
"Voorhees, get me Thunderbird", Lieutenant Handley said.
Valentine moved. He chambered a round in the assault rifle, pointed it, not at anyone, but at the field radio. "Don't transmit. I'll disable the radio".
Bears and PeaBees all went for their weapons. Gun muzzles pointed in every direction but up.
"Chill, brothers", Joho called, sighting on the lieutenant. "Nobody's shot yet".
"Valentine, what the hell are you doing? Put that weapon down!" Mofrey said.
"Lieutenant, this could get crazy really fast", Valentine said, loudly enough so the church acoustics bounced his voice off the back pews. "I've no intention of hurting your valuable piece of equipment, as long as you let the PeaBees and the civilians walk out of here. Bitch to Thunderbird, bitch to Colonel LeHavre, bitch to Adler himself
after we're gone. The alternative is killing all of us and maybe one or two of you. Would you rather spend your debriefing bitching or explaining?"
Reports began to squeak in over the communications system.
"I need to answer these", the radioman said.
"Go ahead", Valentine replied.
"Valentine, you're under arrest", Handley said. "The rest of you, get the hell out of here. Take your prisoners, if they mean that much to you. Torgo, make sure they get out of the kill bottle".
"If you're going to place anyone under arrest, Lieutenant, it should be me", Mofrey said. "I'm in charge of this mission".
"Leave well enough alone, sir", Valentine said. Then to Handley: "I'll surrender my weapon as soon as they're out of here, Lieutenant".
Joho grabbed Mofrey, pulled him back. "Listen to the man. We got daylight coming fast".
When they were gone, Valentine put the gun on the desk and submitted to being patted down and restrained with plastic cording. The stress brought with it a hunger that gnawed at him. Being a Bear meant living with one's appetite as a constant companion.
Bears came and went, but the only one Valentine waited for was goat-bearded Torgo, who returned to report that the PeaBees had left the operations area.
He tried not to listen to the comm chatter. Then he saw a familiar pair of boots step up in front of him.
