That thought triggered an urge in Nathan to make for the nearest residence, sneak up, and peek in the window in the hope of catching some news or information that would aid him in his decision process. King’s order that all portable radios and such be left behind angered Nathan. What had made perfect sense just twenty-four hours before was now proving to be really dumb. “Isn’t it just my luck,” Nathan muttered as he let that thought shrivel up and die, “that I get the only platoon where the soldiers do exactly what they’re told.”

Gandulf turned to his lieutenant with a quizzical look on his face. “Excuse me, sir?”

Realizing that he had let his thoughts cross his lips, Nathan mustered up a sheepish smile as he shook his head. “Oh, nothing, Sergeant. It was nothing.”

Not sure if he should press his lieutenant, Gandulf simply nodded. “I’m going to check on Smitty if you don’t mind, sir.”

There was another factor that Nathan had to take into account. His RTO was in bad shape. Though the worst of the bleeding had been stopped and he was resting comfortably for the moment, there was no way that his platoon could move swiftly and silently about while hauling a man as badly shot up as he was. Not only would it be cruel, but the slightest moan at the most inopportune time would compromise the security of everyone else in the platoon. Yet leaving him, even in the care of fellow Americans, went against everything that Nathan had been taught. Still …

“Sergeant Gandulf,” Nathan called just as the platoon sergeant was preparing to head off toward the wounded. “When you check with the medic, see what he thinks about moving him.”

Even in the gathering darkness Nathan could read the expression that distorted Gandulf’s ordinarily deadpan features.

“I think we’re going to have to move, and move fast,” Nathan volunteered. “If we’re to avoid being scarfed up by the Guard we have to. We wouldn’t be doing Smitty any favors if we took him with us. If anything, it’ll probably kill him.” Nathan let that thought hang between them for a moment before he continued. “It’s not like we’d be leaving him with bloodthirsty barbarians who didn’t speak a lick of English or who have no compassion for their fellow human beings.”

Gandulf’s chin dropped until it almost touched his chest. “I know that, LT,” he finally admitted. Then, he looked up at Nathan. There was a hint of anger in the sergeant’s eyes. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.” With that, the platoon sergeant pivoted about and stalked off, leaving Nathan very much on his own.