"Did it work?" Draycos asked. He was at Jack's side now, peering over his shoulder.

"I don't know," Jack said. "How exactly was it supposed to work?"

The dragon's tongue flicked out. "Like so."

To Jack's amazement, the Shamshir soldiers were on the move. Not toward the transport, like they had decided to rush it, but away.

All of them. Running away from the two buildings like the whole Whinyard's Edge was after them.

Jack cleared his throat. "You think they're running because of the risk of burning explosives next door?" he asked carefully.

"Of course," Draycos said, a distinct note of satisfaction in his voice.

"Not maybe because there might be something else in the hut?" Jack went on. "Something maybe a little nastier than grenades?"

"I—" Draycos broke off. "I do not know."

"Me, neither," Jack said grimly. "What do you say we get the squad aboard and get out of here?"

"Agreed," Draycos said. Setting his gun onto the deck, he leaped up and vanished down the back of Jack's shirt. "And Jack?"

"Yes?"

The dragon's head rose a little from his shoulder. "Do not land us too close to the fire. Just in case."

Jack put the Lynx down between the burning hut and the squad's chosen Flying Turtle. "Jommy?" he shouted through the open hatchway before stepping into view. "It's Jack Montana. Don't shoot."

"Okay," Jommy called back. "Come on."

Jack hopped down from the door. "Everyone okay?" he called as he hurried toward them.

"So far," Jommy grunted. "Though if Kayna can't get this thing started, that could change real fast."

"I told him it was you," Rogan piped up. The smaller boy was shaking where he lay, but he held his gun bravely at the ready. "I told him. He didn't believe me."

"Don't worry, I wouldn't have believed you, either," Jack said, jerking his head back toward his transport. "Come on— everybody get aboard and let's get out of here."

"We won't get far in that one," Li warned. She gestured over Jack's shoulder with the muzzle of her Gompers. "They got your tanks."

Jack turned and looked. Sure enough, there was a ragged gash in the side of the transport that was leaking fuel like a miniature waterfall. "We'll have to take yours, then," he said. "You said Alison's in there?"

"Yeah," Jommy said, glancing around. "She said she could get it started."

"I'll give her a hand," Jack said, slinging his MP-50 over his shoulder. "Keep a sharp eye. When the Shamshir ran off, I don't think they were really giving up."

He found Alison in the pilot's seat, muttering darkly at the control board. "How's it going?" Jack asked, coming up beside her.

"It's frozen solid," she growled, throwing him a curious look. "So you came back, huh?"

"That's the rumor, anyway," Jack said, leaning over her shoulder to try a couple of keys. It was frozen, all right. "What have you tried?"

"What, are you an expert on computer systems?"

"On breaking into them, yes," Jack shot back, trying to think. The good news was that the computer setup was probably similar to the Edge system he'd successfully hacked into on the leaking shuttle out there.

The bad news was that whatever Alison had done to it, she'd probably locked it down so tight that his sewer-rat trick wouldn't work.

Which left them only one option. "We need the start key," he told her, turning and heading aft. "There ought to be a copy on one of the computers in the Shamshir HQ. I'll go get it."

She was at his side before he even got to the hatchway. "I'll go with you," she said, snatching up a machine gun from the floor.

"Forget it," he said, throwing her an annoyed glare. There was a fair chance there were still some soldiers lurking in the building, and the last thing he wanted was to have Draycos's freedom of action cramped by the presence of an unwelcome witness. "Stay here and—"

"And what?" she cut him off. "It won't start. Anyway, two soldiers together always have a better chance than one."

Jack grimaced. That was probably true ... except when one of them had a K'da warrior on his back.

They made it to the HQ building's outer door without anyone shooting at them. The distant mud hut, Jack noted uneasily, seemed to be burning even more furiously than it had been when he'd first landed. He wondered what the blast range was of the grenades Draycos had spotted in there.

"I'll go first," Alison said. Without waiting for argument she ducked inside. Setting his teeth firmly together, Jack followed.

No one shot at them in here, either. In fact, for all they could tell, the whole place was indeed deserted. "I don't like this," Jack murmured as they eased along the darkened corridor. "They shouldn't all have run. Should they?"

"Depends on what they were running from," Alison said. "Or maybe what they were running to."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning maybe they're afraid of something in that shed you torched," she said, peering around an open doorway and then moving on. "Or maybe they just decided on a tactical retreat."

"Like I said: meaning?" Jack repeated, starting to feel annoyed again. This wasn't any time to be playing word games.

"Meaning maybe they didn't feel like facing a bunch of Edge combat transports all alone." She glanced over her shoulder. "There are more transports on the way, aren't there?"

Jack shook his head. "Sorry."

Alison's forehead creased, but she merely turned back and continued on. "Well, the Shamshir don't know that," she pointed out. "I just hope they don't have any air power of their own on the way. Though they probably do."

She paused at another doorway and looked in. "Here we go," she said, and went inside.

The room was small and bare of any ornamentation, Jack noted as he slipped in behind her. But from the size of the desk, and the amount of padding on the chair, it looked like they'd found the commanding officer's office.

With a nice little computer humming away on a corner of the desk.

Alison made a beeline for the computer. Jack brushed past her elbow and got there first. "Uh-uh," he said firmly, setting his gun down on the desk and dropping into the chair. "You already messed up the transport's computer. This one's mine."

She made as if to object, hesitated, then nodded. "Fine," she said, going back to the doorway and peering cautiously down the hall with her machine gun ready. "You just better know what you're doing."

"Trust me," Jack said, testing the keys. The computer was still running, but the owner had remembered to lock it down before making his tactical retreat. Sewer-rat time. "It'll take a few minutes," he added, keying in the program.

"Not too many, I hope," she said. "So if you aren't leading a charge, what are you doing here?"

"I came to get you guys out," Jack said. "Or are you going to try to tell me you didn't need any help?"

"I never turn down free help," she told him tightly. "Especially right now. If we can't get that transport started, it's going to be a long walk to anywhere."

"With unhappy Shamshir behind us the whole way," Jack agreed. "Boy, I'd hate to be in our shoes. How'd you get out, anyway?"

There was just the slightest pause. "The hut they put me in had a dirt floor," she said. "They'd fastened the other end of my handcuffs to the leg of one of the shelves.

"Same thing they did to me," Jack said. "Not very imaginative, are they?"

"Hey, whatever works," she said with a shrug. "Anyway, all I had to do was dig enough dirt out from under the leg, and I could slip the handcuff right out. Nice and neat."

"Yeah," Jack said, frowning. Nice and neat, all right.

Except that when they'd locked him up, they'd made sure the handcuff was attached above the bottom shelf. How had she managed to get that shelf unfastened? "And then you just went around and popped the others?"