No wonder blooming Roxy always looked so pleased with herself.

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No wonder blooming Roxy always looked so pleased with herself.

But he can’t tell if she’s understood his joke.She pats his thigh as he settles in.Just the corner of it.She hoists herself onto a rock and takes some pictures.She should probably get closer.Although, that’s a stupid idea.Report what you’ve found and bring a unit back tomorrow.There’s definitely something there that someone’s gone to quite a lot of trouble to hide from the road.She takes another few pictures.She doesn’t notice the man until he’s almost standing next to her.She has her duty weapon by her side.She shifts position, allowing it to bang against her hip and move forward.I’m sorry, sir, she says.I’ve gotten turned around.I’m looking for the main highway.She keeps her voice very level and calm, turns her American accent up a bit without really intending to.It’s the wrong tack to take.She’s in army fatigues.Pretending at innocence just makes her look more guilty.Darrell feels the skein pumping in his chest.It does it more when he’s afraid, twitches and fizzes.Who sent you?Behind his back, he knows the women in the factory are observing the encounter with cold, dark eyes.He’s not a man in women’s clothing.He’s one of them, as strong as them, as capable.No one sent me, sir.Just doing a little sightseeing.I’ll be on my way.She sees his eyes flick to the maps in her hand.If he sees those, he’ll know she was looking for this place and no other.All right, says Darrell.Her hand twitches toward her radio.He reaches out three fingers of his right hand and, with a single swift jolt, he kills the radio dead.She tries to swing her rifle round but he has it by the butt, catches her in the chin with it, leaving her staggering, hauls the strap over her head.He considers the rifle, then tosses it into the undergrowth.He comes for her, palms crackling.There’s her dad’s voice in her head, saying, Take care of yourself, sweetie.


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