Blown all to shit, in fact. No amount of white goop in

the world's gonna plug that up…

"John!"

He turned, saw Leon and Cole striding back toward him, expressions of amazement on both their faces. John allowed himself a brief moment of completely unchecked pride, watching them approach; he'd been brilliant – timing, aim, everything.

Ah, well. The true soldier takes no accolades for a job well done; it's enough that he knows it…

By the time they reached him, he'd managed to get over himself; thinking about their situation was enough. They were in a psycho testing ground being put through their paces by an Umbrella madman; their team was split up, they had limited ammo, and there was no clear way out of it.

Pretty much, you're screwed. Patting yourself on the back is kinda like giving aspirin to a dead guy; pointless.

Still, seeing the faint hope on the other men's flushed and sweating faces… hope could be mis– guided, but it was rarely a bad thing. "There could still be more of them," he said, wiping sand off of the M-16. "Let's get out of here…"

–clickclickclick-That sound. All of them froze, staring at each other. It wasn't close, but somewhere over the dune, there was at least one more Scorp.

David had spotted a moving light, maybe a quarter mile southwest of their position, but it had come no closer; if it wasn't for the cold, Claire thought she might feel relieved. The chances of anyone finding

them in the endless miles of dark were somewhere near zero; the Umbrella guys had blown it. Even with the helicopter's searchlight – which they apparentlyweren't going to use – it'd be pure luck if they ran across the three of them… although maybe it'd be lucky for us. Maybe they'd have blankets and coffee, hot chocolate, spiced cider…"How are you, Claire?"

She made an effort to keep her teeth from chatter– ing, but it failed. It had been at least an hour, probably more. "Pretty goddamn cold, David, and yourself?" "Same. Good thing we dressed warm, eh?"

If it was a joke, she wasn't laughing. Claire snuggled closer to Rebecca, wondering when she'd lose all feeling in her limbs; as it was, her hands were numb and her face felt like it was freezing into a mask, in spite of near-constant changes of position. David was on Rebecca's other side, the three of them huddled together as tightly as was humanly possible, spoon fashion. Rebecca hadn't woke up, but her breathing was slow and even; she was resting comfortably, at least.

That's one ofus… "Shouldn't be much longer," David said. "Twenty, perhaps twenty-five minutes. They'll post a man or two, then go." "Yeah, so you said," Claire said. "How do you figure the time, though?" Her lips felt like popsicles. "Perimeter search, perhaps a quarter-mile 'round – assuming they have six or less men still able-bodied, I'm estimating four." "Why?" David's voice shook with the cold. "Three sent to the back door of the building, two men down inside and from the sounds, I'd say there were three to seven at the front. Eight or twelve men; any more, and they wouldn't have all fit in the helicopter. Any less, they wouldn't have been able to cover both entrances." Claire was impressed. "So, why twenty to twenty-five minutes?" "As I said, they'll cover a certain distance all the way around the compound before they give us up. The size of the compound, tack on a quarter– to a half-mile, and how long it takes an average man to walk a fourth of that distance. We saw that light perhaps an hour ago, and since they most likely would have each taken a direction and searched that single seg-ment… well, twenty to twenty-five minutes. That's including the time it would take to look through the van, as well. That's my guess, for what it's worth."

Claire felt her frozen lips attempting a smile.

"You're bullshitting, aren't you? Making it up." David sounded shocked. "I am not. I've gone over it several times and I think…"I'm kidding," Claire said. "Really."A short silence, and then David chuckled, the low sound carrying easily through the cold dark. "Of course you are. Sorry. I think the temperature has affected my sense of humor."

Claire alternated her hands, slipping the right one out from beneath Rebecca's hip and sliding the left one under. "No, I'm sorry. Shouldn't have inter-rupted. Go on, this is really interesting."Not much else to say," David said, and she heard the soft, rapid chatter of his teeth. "They'll want to get medical attention for their wounded, and I doubt Umbrella wants one of their helicopters to be seen flying around the salt flats by the light of day; they'll leave a guard behind and go."

She heard him shifting, felt Rebecca's body move as he altered his own position. "Anyway, that's when we'll move. Back to the compound first, a bit of sabotage – and then we'll just see what turns up…"

The way his voice trailed off, the forced good humor in his tone that barely covered the despera– tion – both told her exactly what he was thinking.

What we've both been thinking. "And Rebecca?" She asked gently. They couldn't leave her, she'd freeze, and trying to infiltrate the compound again, trying to take out a couple of armed men while carrying an unconscious woman… "I don't know," David said. "Before she… she said that she might recover within hours, given rest."

Claire didn't respond. Stating the obvious wouldn't help anything. They fell silent, Claire listening to Rebecca's soft breathing, thinking about Chris. David's affection for Rebecca was plain; it was like the love between a father and daughter. Or brother and sister. Thinking about him was one way to pass the time, anyway.

What are you doing right now, Chris? Trent said you were safe, but for how long? God, I wish you'd never been assigned to that Spencer place. Or Raccoon, for that matter. Fighting for truth and justice pretty much eats it, big brother… "Not falling asleep, are you?" David asked. He'd asked her that every time they stopped talking for more than a minute. "No, thinking about Chris," she said. Forming the words was a chore, but she figured it was better than

letting her mouth freeze shut. "And I bet you're starting to wish we'd gone to Europe after all."I do," Rebecca said weakly. "Hate this weather…" Rebecca!

Claire grinned, not really able to feel it and not caring. She hugged the girl as David sat up, digging for the flashlight – and though she was freezing, though they were cut off from their friends, cut off from escape and facing uncertain odds, Claire felt like things were definitely starting to look up.

The call came just after John blew up six of the Arl2s. Reston had been wishing for popcorn up until then; the Scorps' defense systems were working just as the projected numbers had suggested, the exo damage repairing even faster than they'd hoped. What they hadn't counted on was how very fragile the connective tissue between the arachnid segments actually was.

One grenade. One goddamn grenade.

The desire for popcorn was as dead as the Arl2s. There were still two left, scuttling around in the southwest corner, but Reston no longer had much faith in the 12s – and although that was important information, he wasn't so certain that Jackson would be pleased with him for obtaining it.

He'll want to know why I didn't take away their explosives first. Why I released all of the specimens. Why I didn't call Sidney, at least, for counsel. And no answer I give will be sufficient…

When the cell phone rang, Reston jumped in his chair, suddenly certain that it was Jackson. That ridiculous notion was gone by the time he picked up the phone, but it had given him pause – and made him quite glad that his test subjects wouldn't survive Three.

"Reston." "Mr. Reston – this is Sergeant Hawkinson, White Ground Team One-Seven-Oh." "Yes, yes," Reston sighed, watching Cole and the two S.T.A.R.S. people regrouping. "What's happen– ing up there?" "We…" Hawkinson took a deep breath. "Sir, I'm sorry to report that there was an altercation with the intruders and they've escaped the premises." He said it all in a rush, obviously uncomfortable. "What?" Reston stood up, nearly tipping his chair over. "How? How did this happen?" "Sir, we had them trapped in the storage building, but there was an explosion, two of my men were shot and three more were critically…" "I don't want to hear it!" Reston was furious, unable to believe that he had such incompetents working for him. "What I want to hear is that you did not just fail miserably, you did not just let three people slip past your 'crack' teams, and that you did not call to tell me that you can't find them!"