Carmellini shook his head. "No, sir. I'm picking up commercial channels with amateur holovid of one of the Hammer bases. Perkins, I think it is, in which case Redwood gave it one hell of a pasting. Place looks like it's been nuked, so I reckon the Hammers are a bit distracted right now. So far, all I'm seeing is search radars, and we're still below the detection threshold and will stay that way until we turn ass-on to leave."
"Good," Michael said. "Jayla, any contact with our people inside the camp?"
"Not yet, sir. Alley Kat's been trying, but Sedova thinks the Hammers have been jamming all neuronics frequencies, and so far they've not managed to hit the transmitter."
"Roger," Michael said, his chest tightening. "Tell Sedova to find it soon. Otherwise we'll have one hell of a job rounding this lot up."
"Sir."
All of a sudden, the blazing remains of Camp J-5209's defenses reared up out of the darkness; beyond the carnage, the matte-black shapes of Alley Kat and Hell Bent flayed the PGDF base with streams of cannon fire before sliding away into the night.
"Widowmaker, Alley Kat. Don't think the locals will be bothering us. We'll land when you're down."
"Roger that. Landing."
Widowmaker's nose lifted, belly thrusters fired, and with a shuddering thud, the lander's AI dropped the lander onto the ground. Michael wasted no time; throwing off his straps, he jumped out of his seat and slid down the ladder into the cargo bay. Pausing only to shed his combat space suit and grab an assault rifle, he waved Petty Officer Morozov to follow him. He hurried down the ramp after Widowmaker's complement of marines and out into the night, heading for the camp perimeter, oblivious to the rain sheeting down. A thunderous, head-splitting roar announced Alley Kat's arrival, followed by Hell Bent; their ramps went down to disgorge yet more marines, their chromaflage capes fading them into the night when they spread out to secure the perimeter.
Michael ignored them, intent on staying as close as he could to the marines heading into the camp. He ran a scan, but where he should have picked up the neuronics of hundreds of POWs, there was nothing. Bloody Hammers. "Any luck with your neuronics?" he asked Morozov.
Morozov shook her head. "No, sir. We might have to get this done the hard way."
"Shit! I hope not. We can't hang around here."
The pair slogged over the sodden ground and crossed the broken remains of the camp's two fences. Ahead lay a large building, the only one inside the wire-the camp's kitchens and mess hall most likely-and beyond it, two rows of huts of prisoners' accommodation.
"Come on," he shouted, "the idle bastards are still asleep."
Running past the mess hall, Michael skidded to a halt outside the door of the first hut. Taking a deep breath, he hammered on the door. "The Fleet's here, boys and girls," he shouted. "Anyone want a lift out of here?" He stepped back; the last thing he wanted was to have his head beaten in by an anxious Fed spacer. Then all of a sudden his neuronics filled with the babble of hundreds of Feds all asking the same question: "What the hell is happening?"
Michael overrode the hubbub with a priority comm, a series of short, sharp orders telling the Feds to get out onto the muddy patch of ground between the huts-now! First one, then a flood of bewildered Feds streamed out of the huts, milling around until the marines started to herd them toward the waiting landers.
Satisfied that Kallewi had matters under control, Michael commed Anna, his eyes scanning the faces of the Feds as they poured past. No Anna. He tried his neuronics again. Still no response.
"Oh, no," Michael whispered. After all they had been through, Anna was not there. His heart lurched. Maybe that godless sonofabitch Hartspring had taken her out of the camp early. Mayb-
"Michael?" Her comm burst into his neuronics. "Michael, is that you?" she said, her face creased by shock.
"Yes," he replied, a rush of relief flushing the fear and doubt from his system, all but torn apart by the urge to find her, to crush her into his arms and never let her go, even as his brain screamed at him to pay attention, to remember that he was dirtside on Commitment, surrounded by millions of Hammers. "Where are you?" he said, his voiced half-choked by emotion.
"Leaving Hut 14," Anna said.
"Move it," Michael said, forcing himself to think straight, to ignore the overwhelming desire to grab Anna and flee into the night, to leave the rest of the universe to its own devices. "We don't have much time."
Struggling to accept that Anna was there, Michael stood and waited, the flood of Fed spacers streaming past him ignored, his eyes scanning the darkness. Then, standing in front of him, the rain pouring down her face, there stood Anna. "Oh, Anna," he said, tears of relief flooding his eyes as he folded her into his arms, "Anna, Anna, Anna."
"Michael," she whispered. "How, how…" She pushed him away. "What have you done, Michael?"
"Later," he said, taking her back in his arms. "Later."
They might have stayed that way forever, but Sergeant Tchiang had other ideas, huge arms sweeping the last of the prisoners ahead of him, a rolling tide of confusion and apprehension. "Time to go, sir."
"Yes, yes," Michael said, the awful reality of their situation crashing home. "Come on, Anna. We have to go."
"But what-"
"Later," Michael said, cutting her off. "We can't stay."
Taking her by the hand, Michael started to run, the pair joining the last of the Feds jogging back to the landers. Back at Widowmaker, Michael pushed Anna up the ramp. "Go strap in," he said. "I'll be back when everyone is loaded."
She looked at him, frowning, distrustful. "What-"
"Later, Anna, please."
"Okay." Anna nodded; turning, she disappeared into Widowmaker. Michael forced her out of his mind while he tracked down Kallewi.
"How are we doing?" he said when he found the big marine watching the last of the prisoners make their way into the landers, doing his best to put Anna out of his mind and concentrate on the job of getting out of what was about to become one giant hornet's nest infested with vengeful Hammers.
"We have… let me see, yes, 437 very confused Feds," Kallewi said. "We've allocated them to landers, and we're loading them now. We'll be ready to go in five minutes."
"Any problem with our payload limits?"
"No. It'll be close, but we'll be fine."
"Good. Who's the senior officer? He'd better come with me, though I can't say I'm looking forward to telling him how we ended up here."
Kallewi grinned. "Captain Adrissa, and he's a she. That's her over there," he said, pointing to a stocky woman standing clear of the Feds boarding the landers, her face wide-eyed with bewilderment.
"Oh, right. I'll grab her and get her onboard. Let me know when everyone's in and we can go. We've been luckier than we deserve so far, so the sooner we disappear, the better."
"My feelings exactly," Kallewi said.
Leaving him to harry the last of Feds along, Michael walked over to where Adrissa stood.
"Captain Adrissa, sir," Michael said. "Lieutenant Helfort. Pleased to meet you."
"Heard about you, Lieutenant," Adrissa said. "Must say, I never expected this," she added, waving her hand at the wreckage that once had been Camp J-5209. "You care to explain what the hell this is all about?"
"Yes, sir. I will, but we need to go, so follow me, please."
For a moment, Michael wondered if Adrissa was about to argue the point; instead, she shrugged her shoulders. "Okay," she said, her face set in a frown of confusion and doubt, overwhelmed by the sheer speed and ferocity of it all.
Followed by Adrissa and pausing only to make sure that Anna was strapped in-his heart sank as he looked at her sitting slumped in her seat, face slick with rain, fathomless green eyes narrowed, suspicious and disbelieving; please let her understand, he prayed, please-Michael made his way up to Widowmaker's flight deck, telling himself over and over again to stay focused or risk losing everything he and the rest of Redwood's crew had achieved against nearly impossible odds.
"Take a seat, sir," he said, waving Adrissa into the empty weapon systems operator's seat.
"What the hell is-"