"Yes, Colonel," the man said. "Err ... Cap-"
"Don't worry about it. Just put a shell into them."
The first armored car rounded the corner, the pointed prow on it filling the street.
"Clear!" the gunner yelled, but the other two in the crew were already well away from the back of the weapon.
It fired with a whoosh, more like a rocket than a shell. The backblast kicked up a shroud of dust, blinding Valentine for a moment. He heard an explosion somewhere down the road. The loaders opened the crossbars at the back and slid in a brassy new shell.
Valentine heard the Bears shooting. The front snowplow had been stopped, and smoke poured from the front. It was firing back; tracers arced from the turret, their brightness leaving strange echoes on his retinas. He saw vague shapes of troops exiting the armored car behind it before the recoilless rifle fired again.
"That's it. Wreck the tube," Valentine said.
"One more shell, sir," the gunner said, as the others loaded.
"Shoot and fall back." He raised his voice. "Nail, get out of it!"
More tracer streaks lit up the street. The gunner fired again, blindly. Valentine waited to see Nail and his Bears run for the burning warehouses, and pulled the gunner out by his collar. The loaders put another shell in the tube, and placed the spares beneath its massive tripod.
Tracer fire began to seek the recoilless weapon like a probing finger. "Better get going, sir," me gunner said, throwing a bag over his shoulder. He pulled out a shining new grenade.
Valentine looked up the street and made his dash. He gestured to the gunners, trying to encourage them to hurry. The gunner nodded to the other two and tossed the grenade in with the shells under the tube. The three of them ran.
From the platform Valentine looked at the rail bridge. He saw the tailgate of a pickup, bumping as the tires negotiated the ties. Men walked single file on the pedestrian walkway, crossing over to the north side. Others were setting charges.
"Nail," Valentine said, as the Bears came up behind him with the recoilless gunners. "It'll have to be the boat. They're getting set to blow the bridge."
Nail nodded, and they turned for the riverbank. A few members of the rearguard were hurrying for the dock. Mortar shells were dropping around the train station.
Nail clapped Valentine on the back. "We really-"
An explosion boiled all around them. Valentine felt a warm hand give him a gentle nudge. He realized he was on the ground. Nail lay facing him, his leg on top of Valentine's, like two lovers in bed.
"You okay?"
"Sure," Nail gasped. He started to pick himself up. Neither of his legs moved.
Valentine tried to help him up. "Rain, anyone ... help!" His voice sounded like a far-off whisper.
"Legs ..." Nail said, looking up at Valentine. He'd never seen fear in the Bear's eyes before.
Valentine picked him up in a fireman's carry and trotted down toward the pier. The barge waited, huge and comforting.
"Cast off, cast off," the sergeant handling the loading called. Zhao was running between little groups, clapping them on the shoulder and pointing toward the barge. Valentine saw his old marines from the Thunderbolt leave the piled sandbags around the dock-sandbags were easily found around the riverbank-and run up the gangplank to the barge. There was a hint of light in the sky; by it Valentine saw the main deck of the barge piled high with sandbags. The cargo carrier in front was filled with people, mostly prisoners from the camp, and Zhao's company.
"Bandages!" the sergeant called, looking at Nail and Valentine. "Take him to the foredeck, sir. The wounded are there."
Valentine boarded, and went forward. Just below the pilot house a man in splints and one of the women lay under blankets next to Beck's two wounded. Field medics helped Valentine lay Nail out.
"Sorry about this, Nail." The inadequate words made him want to bite his tongue.
"Don't feel a thing, sir. Hardly hurts."
"Shrapnel," the medic said. "His back's kind of tore up. I've stopped the bleeding-most of it."
Valentine heard the muttering boat engines gun, and the barge moved away from the dock, heading upriver.
"Can I get you anything, Nail?"