[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

with honor.
 I hope, Colonel Christopher Blair, that we need never meet in battle. But if we do, I will salute you as a
warrior . . . and I will mourn you, as a friend lost to me forever.
The holograph flickered and faded out, leaving Blair alone again in the tiny cabin with bitter thoughts as
his only companions. He remained there a long time, unmoving, until someone buzzed at the cabin door.
He put the projector down.  Enter, he said harshly.
It was Maniac.  Thought I might find you here. Captain called down to Flight Control asking after the
final operations plan for this mission of the General s. Marshall looked around the cabin, plainly curious.
 Cleaning out the cat s stuff, huh?
Blair shook his head.  Not yet, he said.  Just . . . an inventory. Before the captain gets started with the
investigation . . .
 Yeah, Maniac nodded.  Guess they ll have to look into . . everything, huh? What d I tell you about
trusting a cat, all those years back?
Blair just stared at him, wordless. There was nothing to say any more.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
 Too bad Cobra had to die to get her point across, Marshall said.
Blair surged out of the bunk and caught him by the collar, raising a hand to strike the man. All his anger
had came rushing out, and all he wanted to do was knock the mocking smirk off Maniac s face.
 Temper, temper, Marshall said.  You shouldn t start something you can t finish, Colonel, sir. And you
know you can t afford to lose any more wingmen. Not now.
Blair dropped his hand and let go of Marshall s collar. The major took a step back, smoothing his
wrinkled uniform.
 For once, you re right, Blair said slowly.
 I am?
 Yeah. Yeah, there s precious few of us left, Major. Two Excaliburs destroyed yesterday, and another
one damaged. Only four of us left in Gold Squadron. Blair backed away a few paces, his eyes fixed on
Marshall s face.  I d deck you right now, Maniac, and to hell with the consequences. But I figure I d
rather have you on my wing when we hit Kilrah.
Maniac snorted.  Yeah, right. You never thought I was any good before. So why would you want me
this time?
 Simple, Blair told him.  Odds are none of us are coming back from this one, but I figure you re too
arrogant and too stupid to bow down. So maybe I will have the pleasure of seeing you fry before the
damned mission s over and done with.
Marshall looked at him doubtfully, as if uncertain how serious Blair was.  You re crazy, man, he said.
Blair didn t answer him. He pulled a PDP out of his pocket and started the inventory, ignoring Marshall
until the other man snorted again and left the cabin.
After Maniac left, he took time out to use the intercom to pass a message to Eisen, identifying the
computer file that held the work the flight wing staff had put into refining Paladin s attack plan. Then he
finished up in Ralgha s cabin and left, locking the door behind him with a security seal to keep out
unauthorized visitors.
He still had other unpleasant duties to take care of however. The next one took him down the corridor
from the single rooms assigned to senior wing officers to the block of double cabins assigned to Gold
Squadron. He halted in front of the door labeled LT. WINSTON CHANG × LT. MITCHELL LOPEZ
and set down the empty cargo module he picked up on his way.
Blair touched the buzzer beside the door and stepped back. It took a few moments before it slid open.
Inside, the lights were out, but a figure was sitting on one of the two narrow beds.
 Come in, Vagabond said. There was little of his usual bantering manner about him today. He squinted
into the light.  Oh, Colonel. What can I do for you?
Blair kicked the cargo module through the door and stepped inside, letting the door slide shut behind
him.  Sorry to bother you, Lieutenant, he said, feeling awkward. He wished he could have faced this part
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
of the job alone, as he had in Ralgha s quarters.  I just . . . I came to round up Vaquero s stuff. Shuttle s
heading back to the Eagle later today, and I figured they could take the personal effects back to Torgo
when they jump . . .
 In case we don t make it, Chang finished the thought for him. He raised his voice slightly.  Lights.
The computer brought the light level up. Under the illumination, the lieutenant s expression was bleak.
 Don t borrow trouble, Vagabond, Blair said quietly.  I know how you feel . . . this mess is getting to
all of us. But we ve all got to get a grip. Bounce back.
 The clichù of the week, Chang said. He pointed to one of the lockers on the far wall.  That one s
Vaquero s. Was Vaquero s. The Chinese pilot paused.  He was a good roommate. And a good
wingman, for a kid.
Blair nodded and crossed to the locker, opening it with a security magnakey that overrode Vaquero s
lock. It was crowded and untidy. Evidently Mitchell Lopez had managed to accumulate a fair number of
possessions in the short time he d been aboard Victory.
 Tell me this much, Colonel, Vagabond said from behind him.  Rumor mill says we ve got a shot at the
cats after all, even after Behemoth. Is it true?
Blair looked at him, nodded.  Yeah. A shot . . . a pretty damned long one, but a shot.
 Good. Chang gave a curt nod.  Good. ÑCause I want a piece of the bastards.
 Are you sure? You were the one who had doubts about Behemoth, as I recall. And the new mission s
also designed to knock out Kilrah. No ifs, ands, buts, or maybes . . . [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]