She held out her hand, and he took it.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“NPA Control, this is Falcon. Inbound. ETA the source of Sierra-One-One’s last signal three minutes. Have you any more information for us?”

Captain Nikos Papadapolous glanced back over his shoulder while he waited for a response. Despite the cramped confines of the pinnace, Sergeant Major Jenkins and Lieutenant Kilgore had most of Third Platoon’s three squads into their battle armor already. Other Marines, bulky in unpowered body armor, were paired off with each battle-armored trooper, running check lists on external monitors, and a background chatter of crisp commands and metallic equipment sounds filled the big troop compartment.

Surgeon Commander Suchon sat just behind the captain, hunched forward in her seat. Her dark face was sickly pale, and she clutched her emergency medical kit to her armored breastplate with clawlike hands.

“Falcon, NPA Control,” a voice said suddenly, and Papadapolous turned back to his own panel. “Negative information.”

“NPA Control, Falcon copies. No additional information. We’ll keep you advised.”

“Thank you, Falcon. And good hunting. NPA Control clear.”

“Falcon clear,” Papadapolous responded, and turned his attention to the map display at his elbow. They couldn’t know precisely where Sierra-One-One had gone down, but they had a pretty fair idea. Unfortunately, the terrain looked uninviting, to say the least. Someone paused beside him, and he looked up to see Ensign Tremaine.

“Our scanner people are picking up a couple of energy sources down there, Sir,” the ensign said. “We’ve already relayed the data to NPA Control.”

His face was taut, but he leaned forward almost diffidently to press buttons on Papadapolous’s map display. Two light dots appeared on it, separated by just over five kilometers. Both were faint, but one flickered much more weakly than the other. The captain studied them for a moment, brow furrowed, then tapped the flickering one.

“That’s Sierra-One-One,” he said positively.

“How can you be certain, Sir?”

“Look at the terrain, Mr. Tremaine. This one—” Papadapolous tapped the display again “—isn’t just weaker, it’s in the middle of a valley that offers the only flat ground within klicks, but this one—” he tapped the other dot “—is right on top of a hill. Or under it,” he added in a thoughtful tone.

“Under it?”

“It’s only a trace source, Mr. Tremaine, and solid ground makes a pretty good shield against sensors. Burying it would make sense, but if that’s what they did, they didn’t do a very good job. We see it, and something brought Sierra-One-One down where the Stilties could get at her. They may have picked up this other source and come in for a closer look.”

“I see.” Tremaine stared at the suspect light, young face hard as he remembered another raid on a power source in the Outback. He rubbed his chin, then looked back at the Marine. “You think it was a decoy? That they sucked the NPA in on purpose?”

“It’s possible,” Papadapolous agreed, “but I’m inclined to think it was just sloppiness. I can’t see any reason they’d want to start their ‘insurrection’ way out here in the boonies. Can you?”