Three more up near Squad Four.

“Floyd, you have three natives on your right, above that ridge there. Everybody else is in the hut, or the pen—those are animals in the pen. I don’t have Squad One and Two in view. Hang tight.”

Danny clicked forward on the feed, still didn’t have them. He could wait for another run or just go.

Waiting was conservative, but it meant giving the people in the village more time to man weapons, plan a defense.

“Three and Four move in,” Danny said, finding another solution, “One and Two hold.”

“Aw, shit,” said Powder.

“Hawk Leader, another run, further east,” Danny said.

“Copy that,” said Fentress.

The Flighthawk came over again—two people were walking south toward Liu’s team. Danny fed the details to Liu, then ordered One and Two to move in.

“Take us there,” Danny told the helo pilot, who gunned the engine on the small helicopter. The scout rocketed forward so fast Danny flew back in the seat.

“Go, go, go!” Bison was yelling. Danny clicked in the Flighthawk feed, saw an explosion on the west side of the camp. Going at the machine gun, the team used flashbangs and smoke grenades. Voices shouted in his ears. He struggled to stay above it all—outside the scram.

“Quick Birds, hold your fire,” said Danny. “That smoke is from our grenades.”

He clicked into the feed from Bison—the trees moved swiftly, then he saw ground, smoke—an old tree trunk in front of his team member.

The machine gun.

“Shit fuck,” said Bison.

“All right, everyone relax now, relax,” said Danny.

“Got two guys here,” said Powder. “Older than the hills.”

“Powder, watch it—natives coming at you,” said Liu.

“We’re on it.”

Danny pushed up the helmet screen, looking through the windscreen of the Quick Bird as the pilot pointed to the ground. Stoner leaner over, trying to make out what was happening.

“Can you get us down?” Danny asked the pilot.

“I can hover over that roof there,” he replied. “You’ll have to go down the rope.”

“Yeah, do it,” said Stoner.

“Do it,” said Danny.

There was gunfire to the right of the helicopter. The pilot hesitated, then pitched his nose toward it, steadying into a firing position.

“Hold off,” said Danny, touching the man’s arm. “Powder, what the fuck?”

“Wild stinking dogs,” said the sergeant. “Mean motherfuckers.”

“What about the people?”

“They’re all right,” he said. “We’re okay. We have two, three natives secured. No resistance, Cap. ’Cept for the barking dogs. Man, they bug the shit out of me.”

Danny let go of the pilot’s arm. “We’ll use the rope,” he said.

By the time Stoner got to the ground, the village was secure and the huts had already been searched. The unrehearsed, ad hoc operation had gone remarkably well, so well, in fact, Stoner thought the Whiplash people might actually give his old SEAL team a run for the money.

A run, nothing more.

Even the Marines had done well. The only casualties were six dogs, probably kept by the villagers for food.

The locals were sitting grim-faced in a small circle in front of one of the huts. They were all old, easily in their fifties if not well beyond. The place was what the girl had told him it was—a refugee village started by people who had fled from another island.

Captain Freah was consulting with his people, dividing the surrounding area into quadrants for a detailed search. To Stoner, it seemed a waste of time, though he wouldn’t bother pointing it out.

“Looks pretty clean,” said Danny.

“We have to hit the atolls,” said Stoner. “Sooner rather than later.”

“Yeah,” said Danny, his voice still flat. While the captain turned and went back over to his men, Stoner looked at the huts. They couldn’t have been here for more than a few months.

“We’ll go out through the beach,” said Danny when he came back. “It’s quicker. Marine helo will shoot us to the base. I have to leave one of my guys here to supervise, and one at the security post. That’ll give us a total of six people, including myself.”

“We can use the Marines,” said Stoner.

“I have an okay for an armed recon already,” said Danny. “If we add Marines, that has to be cleared. They’ll probably want to fly in more forces, set up a whole operation. It’ll be thorough, but it’ll be overkill—and it won’t happen till tomorrow night. You told me you wanted to go sooner rather than later.”

“I do.”

“Then let’s do it.”