"Natalee, behind you!� Caryn, her friend and fellow freedom fighter called.
Natalee whirled around, bringing her long-blade up to a defensive position, as Caryn snapped off a few quick shots on the back of the attacking Czulknek. The bullets struck home, but were embedded in the warrior�s body armor.
Though the Czulknek was unharmed, the impact startled him enough that Natalee could slice through his legs with her long-blade. In a fluid motion, she shifted her weight and side-kicked the alien to the ground, and Caryn shot him twice in the throat with her assault rifle.
Moving to the next alien, Alzon� heard a shift in the commotion over her radio. �This is the south field. Six Czulknek warriors have broken into the bunker and captured General Cantil!�
�Caryn,� Natalee called over her shoulder, �the general��
�I know, I heard,� she answered over the battle cry of a wounded warrior.
�Looks like the Czulkneks� new compound a few clicks south of here, Captain.�
�Good, I�m going after him.�
Tokyn Belarephon�s voice came over the radio, his slight Russian accent barely noticeable. �Captain, you can�t handle this by yourself.�
Alzon� kept running, now almost out of the south field. �I can handle it better than a full squadron, which we can�t spare, I should remind you.�
Tokyn ignored her. �Send a squad to help her.�
�Tokyn, no,� Natalee corrected. �We can�t afford to loose that much defense around the camp. The Aero-Space Fighter project is our number one priority, and our only hope at winning this war.�
The communications officer risked a question. �Are we sending a squad or not?�
�No!� Natalee shot back. �I�m about halfway to the compound. I�m shutting off my radio so I can sneak in. I�ll make contact when I find the general. Alzon�, out.� She switched off her radio and ran full tilt through the light sprinkling of trees that separated the London resistance camp safe-zone from the Czulknek compound.
The low barking sound of the Czulkneks� native tongue brought Natalee to an abrupt halt. Silently, she climbed ten feet up the nearest tree. Below her, six alien figures stomped through the undergrowth, surrounding a bound and bloodied�but conscious�human.
General Cantil held his head in as dignified a posture as possible as he stumbled through the foliage, his wrists tied securely behind him and blood soaking the ropes. The aliens would treat that potentially fatal wound at the compound, Natalee knew. They wanted him alive.
Her heart skipped a beat. Had they found out about the ASF project? Was that the information they planned to torture the general to gain? When the project had been transferred to London after years of research was lost when Houston was destroyed, General Cantil had taken it upon himself to assure that that would never happen again. He spent hours and hours on end every day for over a full year memorizing the databanks. That was why he stayed in the southern bunker during every attack. If the camp was destroyed, at least he could get that information to another one.
Natalee also knew the incredible amount of mental discipline it had taken him to store so much in his head. If the Czulkneks planned to torture him to make him talk, at least they had their work cut out for them.
Alzon� gripped the hilt of her sheathed long-blade with growing anger. Perhaps if she surprised the warriors now she could get the general and escape. She took a slow breath. No, these warriors carried armorswords: weapons made of virtually indestructible wood from the Czulknek home world that could slice through almost any material with their razor-sharp edge. Though her long-blade could counter a blow from an armorsword, she herself could not take six skilled warriors on her own. One Czulknek alone out-matched any human in both strength and size, though not brains. And six�.
The Czulkneks leading Cantil tramped out of sight, and Natalee waited until their voices and heavy footfalls diminished before she climbed back down the tree to follow