He still didn’t know how he felt about it. She was the most challenging and vibrant woman he’d ever met. But sometimes he found himself wondering what planet she came from. She shared with De Marco an ability to deal dispassionately with the most gruesome of subjects. It was kind of off-putting.

The pretty lieutenant was still talking, and he dragged his attention back to the briefing.

“In nineteen forty-four the Army Rangers who rescued the POWs from the camps had extensive help from local guerrilla forces, which we can’t expect because of the confused situation on the ground in Luzon. However—”

Dan found himself wondering whether this woman had ever kicked a man half to death. If you got past her beauty, she certainly looked competent enough in her camouflage fatigues.

“—the rescue was accomplished with the loss of only two Rangers, Corporal Roy Sweezy and Captain James C. Fisher. One of the prisoners died of a heart attack during the extraction.”

The screen behind the lieutenant filled with still photographs taken by combat photographers from the 832nd Signal Service Battalion, who had accompanied—or would accompany—the Rangers on the rescue mission to Cabanatuan. The images drove all thoughts of Julia from Dan Black’s mind. Like his fellow officers he gaped in horror at the skeletal, nearly inhuman creatures who stared out at them.

“These are the defenders of Corregidor, gentlemen,” said Colonel Jones, taking over from De Marco. “Your comrades and our forebears. Thousands of others did not make it. Some were killed during the siege of the island, but most died on the forced march into captivity and during years of internment in the death camps. There is nothing we can do for the men who are gone, but there are thousands of our people we can still save.”

Black wondered whether he was the only one in the room who noted the colonel’s use of the phrase our people. More than a few of his contemporaries had been mouthing off on the way over about having to work with Negroes and Mexicans and uppity women, completely oblivious to the hovercraft crew that contained examples of all three. Black was surprised at how tiring he found the endless gripes on the subject, and wondered how Kolhammer’s people managed to keep a lid on their temper.

The briefings continued for hours, finishing late in the day with an address by a female “combat surgeon.” “We’ll need more transport,” said Captain Francois, “enough for about twenty to thirty thousand men. And most of them will be in very poor shape, so we can’t just toss them into the hold of a troopship. They’ll need something better than that if they’re going to survive the return trip.”