Escape From Zulaire by Veronica Scott Page B

captain had a half smile for Andi as he dusted the lenses off with his shirt. “Are we ever going to run into anyone in distress you don’t want me to rescue? No matter what my orders—my very specific orders—say?” He took another look himself. “If this guy is so important, killing him would be a logical strategy for the rebels, Clan loyalties aside. Classic destabilizing move. Buys them more time to solidify their gains.” Lowering the viewers, Tom drew the sergeant aside a few steps for a semi private conference. “Mitch?”
    “I say go for it, rescue the guy, sir. It’s worth doing. Fits into our mission on Zulaire in the first place. We can stretch our orders a little more.” He winked at Andi.
    She held her breath.
    Tom nodded, and Andi exhaled in a rush as he issued his orders. “All right, we move in. Rogers, Latvik, target the men closest to the two trucks. The sergeant and I will pick off the ringleaders. The guy with the pockmarked face, the one with the drop on the old man, is mine.”
    “I’m coming, too.” Andi checked the charge on her borrowed blaster. They’re going into danger at my urging again and I need to be there, do my part.
    “I expected nothing else. Stay beside me. Choose your targets from the rear fringe of the mob over there.” He pointed. “And we want the trucks in one piece, if at all possible.” Without waiting for her acknowledgment, Tom turned to Abukawal. “Stay here with the girl and the baby. If we don’t succeed, make your way to the capital. Stay low, travel at night, don’t get involved in anything . Your priority is to get there in one piece.”
    Abukawal drew himself up, tightening his grip on his weapon. Eyes flashing, jaw jutting, he shook his head once. “Staying on the sidelines is a hard thing for a warrior.”
    “I know, I get it. I’m sorry. Your eyewitness information is too important to risk.” Tom clapped Abukawal on the shoulder, then nodded to his own team. “Move out.”
    The small party crept down the ridge, utilizing every bit of sparse cover, trying not to draw any attention. Andi tried to match her movements to those of Rogers, whom she followed, and not blunder into Tom next to her. Although she understood the tactical necessity for creeping up on the enemy, the slow pace frayed her nerves. I just hope we won’t be too late.
    The captain signaled a halt about halfway, where a long, rocky outcropping provided limited cover. The soldiers deployed, Andi taking a spot in the middle of the line, still next to Tom, per his instructions.
    She was now close enough to hear the discussion going on below, at the edge of the road.
    The Naranti mob leader taunted the old priest, an incredible lapse of cultural norms—to berate an elder and one of his own Clan, at that. “You’re powerless to save your companions or yourself.”
    Taking a step forward, the ringleader of the mob pushed the old man hard with each sentence he spit out.   “Your day has passed. We don’t need you to talk to the Obati and Shenti for us. It is our Clan’s turn to rule Zulaire. We’re done bowing and serving. We’ll make them tremble at our war cry, bend their necks to our knives. They’ll have to respect us. The Naranti can carry war banners and fight better than the Obati or Shenti ever did.”
    “This is to be the accomplishment of our Clan?” Scorn colored Rahuna’s powerful voice. “The killing of innocents? Taking what isn’t ours?”
    The rebel spokesman struck the priest across the face with the butt of his weapon. Spinning from the force of the blow, Rahuna crumpled in a heap, his small shiny black hat skittering across the road.
    “ Enough . We waste time,” declared another Naranti man, who appeared to be the final authority over the ragtag squad. “Kill him and have done. We must be at the rally point before nightfall.”
    Tom half raised his hand, on the verge of signaling his men to fire.
    Rahuna struggled to his feet, hand pressed to his