The Assault - By Brian Falkner Page 0,36

looked to be quite old, although Bzadian ages were difficult to gauge. He had deep-set eyes like two dark caves and high, protruding cheekbones. His thin, reedy lips were tightly compressed. He stepped ahead of the others and introduced himself with a quick Bzadian salute.

“Goezlin,” the PGZ man said, extending the buzzing middle syllable of his name.

“Yozi.” He returned the salute.

“Chizna.” Chisnall followed suit.

It occurred to him how bizarre it was that a sixteen-year-old human boy with little more than two years’ combat training was standing in front of a high-ranked officer in the most feared organization in the enemy army. He forced himself to focus. Everything he said and did here had to be perfect.

“Who captured them?” Goezlin asked.

Yozi indicated Chisnall with a sideways nod.

“Where?”

“Benda Hill,” Chisnall said. “Their uniforms are of pilots, but from their location, we suspect they were forward spotters for the raid.”

“The outer defenses in that area have been severely damaged,” Yozi said. “It did not look like random missiles. I have alerted Base Defense to prepare for possible infiltrators or maybe a ground attack.”

“We were able to pass right through the defensive line near where we captured the humans,” Chisnall agreed. “The fence, the guard towers, the minefield—all gone.”

Goezlin’s eyes peered into Chisnall’s, and he wondered if he had said too much.

“What unit are you from?” Goezlin asked, although the answer was clearly marked on Chisnall’s uniform.

“Thirty-Fifth Scout Battalion,” Chisnall said steadily.

But why had Goezlin asked?

“You’re new to the base?” Again the narrow, probing eyes.

“We arrived yesterday, sir,” Chisnall said, carefully controlling his breathing.

“And how did you come to capture the humans?”

Chisnall repeated his story of being left behind by the rotorcraft but got only a stony silence. Goezlin suspected something, of that he was sure. But why and what, he could not work out. Their disguises were good. His Bzadian was faultless and his accent perfect. He went back over what he had said. Maybe it was the way he had said it? It couldn’t have been anything obvious, or Goezlin would have had them arrested immediately.

Chisnall said and did nothing. Goezlin stared at him.

Without warning, Fleming swung around, sweeping Yozi’s feet from under him with an outflung leg. He straightened and cannoned into Chisnall, shoving him into one of the guards. All Chisnall’s breath disappeared with a harsh cough and he sprawled backward over the alien.

Fleming was running. Darting toward the narrow opening in the gate. The other guard was there and raising his weapon, but Fleming was too fast and too strong. He grabbed the barrel of the coil-gun as it came up toward him and wrenched it from the guard’s grasp. Swinging it around, he knocked the soldier to one side.

Fleming was actually through the gate when the stock of a rifle caught him directly in the face. It must have been like running into a brick wall. He crashed backward.

Brogan kicked the coil-gun out of the dazed Fleming’s hands and rested the barrel of her weapon on his forehead as he lay on the ground.

“Good effort, Sergeant,” Chisnall said.

Brogan inclined her head slightly but said nothing. She backed away a little and Fleming sat up. He spat out blood.

One of the PGZ guards stepped quickly in and secured Fleming’s hands with a metal clasp before he was hauled back in front of Goezlin.

“Get them inside, into the cells,” Goezlin said. He smiled, a thin line across his face. “Azoh would be proud, Lieutenant. If all our units were like yours, this war would be over already.”

How true that is, Chisnall thought. “Thank you, sir,” he said, giving the Bzadian gesture of thanks, his right hand pressed flat to his heart.

Goezlin turned without another word and followed the two prisoners, now both secured with the metal ties, toward the building.

The gate ground to a close behind Chisnall and Yozi as they returned to the vehicles.

“I will give you a lift back to your unit base,” Yozi said. “If there’s anything left of it.”

Chisnall shook his head. “With the state of the roads, it will be faster for us to walk.”

Yozi frowned. “Thirty-Fifth Scout HQ is in the northwestern sector. It would take you all day to walk there.”

Chisnall was suddenly conscious of Goezlin, still standing on the steps of the building behind them. He shrugged sheepishly. “Of course. I am still a little lost here. This base is huge.”

Yozi nodded. “It can be hard to get your head around at first. Mount up. Judging by the amount of damage in