The distant low rumble of vehicles was heard first. Jazz raised his head.
“Target sighted.”
“All operatives acknowledge positions.”
“Aye, aye, sir!”
“Here, sir!”
“Five vehicles, distance apart thirty meters, maybe forty. Jazz?”
“I’m ready. Distance between first group and second group of targets?” That was the key element to the first part of their operation.
“Stand by for confirmation. Unclear for now. Stand by.”
“Confirm stand by.”
“Men, we don’t need to be selective if Dilaver remains on the other side of the bridge. All targets are expendable on our side.”
“Aye, aye, sir!”
“Give or take, fifteen minutes. Lock and load.”
Jazz didn’t need to be there to know what Hawk and the other members of his team were doing. They were in the trees, the bushes, behind a log, bellying the ground. They had their weapons on, in front of, and beside them. Their eyes were focused ahead on the curiously silent bridge while their ears were alert for the patrol leader’s signal. Six SEALs carried a lot of firepower, and he had every confidence that they could take care of two or three dozen hostiles on their side of the river.
On this side of the bridge, they had watched Vivi’s men arriving the night before and had made note of where they were situated. He didn’t want to think about Vivi out there, too.
He signaled to Cucumber, the big man if their team who had chosen to cross over here with him. They had the important task of timing. Timing was everything. One second too early and the targets might get warned; one too late and the wrong people might be targeted.
Cucumber gave the thumbs-up and started to belly-crawl up the muddy banks, slithering like one big snake that just happened to have a massive weapon. Jazz moved to his position, ready for the signal to blast the bridge down. They had chosen a higher place to hide out so they could see where the targets scattered at the first explosion. Easier to pick them off.
“Oh hell.”
“What is it, Joker?”
“Nine o’clock, over the bridge. What the fuck is that?” It took a lot to surprise Joker. Jazz turned in that direction.
“Do you see what I see?”
“Jazz? Confirm sighting. Nine o’clock, about one hundred meters—”
“I see her, Hawk.” He squinted his eyes. Her hair color was darker, but he would recognize that walk anywhere. “She’s not alone.”
“I believe that’s the cavalry for your side, Team One.”
“Yeah, but what the fuck is she doing strolling her way toward us?” Cucumber chimed in from his end. “With goats.”
There were several repetitions to confirm that last observation.
“Goats?”
“With what?”
“I see goats. Lots of goats.”
“Oh hell. That’s the cavalry?”
“Lock and load, men,” Hawk repeated quietly.
Jazz clicked on channel three. “What’s she up to, Hawk? Over.”
“We continue as planned. I’m waiting for her comm signal. She’ll notify me when it’s time. Wait for my signal, over.”
“She’s going to walk into the kill zone with goats.” He was going to kill her, if she survived.
“Got to admit it’s a good distraction, buddy. Her team is out there somewhere.” There was a pause. “I’m checking with the viewfinder. At her speed, she’ll make it here just in time for the convoy’s arrival. Our girl has good timing.”
Jazz ignored the admiration in his friend’s voice. “Our girl won’t have a neck left when I’m done with her. She didn’t say goats last night.”
“You didn’t say where you were last night either. Are you ready, Jazz?”
His mind was on a woman walking into a trap he’d set up. Of course he was ready. He had a job to do and he’d better get it done right. He smacked at the channel buttons.
“Cumber! Lock and load.”
“Waiting for signal for my side of the ditch, sir. By the way, tell Vivi, nice outfit.”
Jazz snuck a glance with his scope. The woman was...he shook his head. She was close enough to be seen by anyone within firing range, she and her damn goats, moving up from the banks of the river as if they were coming back from their usual watering hole. And her bright flowery top stuck to her body as if she had just taken a bath—like all the local women in the countryside tended to do—right in the river.
“First target vehicle rounding the bend.”
“Second target vehicle sighted.”
The “girl” and her goats moved up the dirt road, seemingly oblivious to the danger ahead, busy with her stick and her dogs, herding the noisy animals. The first vehicle slowed and passed her. She didn’t pay any attention, yelling at the animals to move out of the way.
“First target moving toward bridge, over. I can see the driver on his cell or walkie-talkie,” Hawk informed over the mike. “He might be saying something about our girl because I can see the hostile on the passenger side glancing back.”
Dust kicked up from the first vehicle obscured Vivi for a moment and Jazz’s hand tightened around the scope as he watched her cough. The second vehicle passed by, swerving awfully close to her as she tried to keep control of her herd. She looked up, as if suddenly realizing there was yet another truck heading her way and she wouldn’t be able to dodge dust and keep her animals safe for too long.
“First vehicle on bridge. Second vehicle moving toward bridge. Definitely talking about our girl and her goats. Stand by for signal, Team Two.”
“Standing and Ready,” Jazz said, giving the STAR Force motto. Everything and everyone seemed to be holding its collective breath, just waiting for that one moment in time when hell let loose. Vivi’s colorful blouse stood out against the dirty browns around her and he knew that all eyes—the men in the trucks and those hidden—were on her. Exactly as she had planned.
“Third vehicle sighted. Second vehicle still heading toward bridge. I can see the targets looking out of the trucks, sir.”
“Wait for diversion. Stand by for signal, repeat, stand by.”
The third vehicle closed in on the girl. By now the goats were wandering out into its way and she threw her stick at the oncoming truck in frustration, putting up her hand in the universal gesture for it to halt. The stick landed right on the hood and bounced against the windshield. When the truck didn’t stop, she defiantly stood in its path, hands on her hip, glaring at the truck.
“Jaysus!”
Jazz ignored the mutters coming through his helmet intercom as he held his breath. If Dilaver didn’t stop...for the first time in his career, he was considering leaving his post and instead of following orders, charging out solo, firing his weapons.
“Target two right at bridge. Stand by for signal, Team Two.”
“Standing and Ready,” Jazz’s reply was automatic, spoken through gritted teeth, even though he was still staring at the oncoming third vehicle. His thoughts whizzed in his head with the speed of a fastball. Everything else, however, was freeze-framed. The sound of the vehicles rumbling on the planks and steel of the old bridge. The stupid goats milling all over the dusty pathway. The huge truck and the tiny woman. It was mere seconds, done in slow motion.
Jazz’s breath hissed out in relief as the vehicle grounded to a halt in front of Vivi, barely missing one of her goats. She screamed in panic, running after the bleating animal, tripping over in her haste. The truck door opened and someone who looked like Dilaver stepped out. The driver also did the same. The weapons in their hands finally clued the “girl” to the fact that she was in danger and she started to back away.
Jazz had killed people before. In the dark, on the run, or in an ambush, like this one. It wasn’t something he was especially proud of, nor had he ever made it personal. Most of the time he compartmentalized—he switched off emotions so he could just focus on getting his job done.
He had never felt as he did at that moment and he would never forget it as long as he lived. Watching Dilaver and his men manhandling a woman as she finally realized they weren’t stopping for her and her goats to cross safely, then watching Vivi helpless in their hands, being dragged and slammed against the side of the truck, the rage that burst from his gut almost blinded him. He wanted to go after Dilaver with his bare hands right there and then and rip him limb from limb.
Every cell in him was screaming. He could feel the rage reaching boiling point as he watched the big thug run his hand over Vivi’s blouse, touching her intimately. Even from here, he could see the dark tanned hand against her bared flesh.
It was startling to hear her calm voice through the intercom as he witnessed the whole scenario. She was over there, acting up a distracting storm, and her disembodied voice in his head was composed as could be. “Activate the fuse.”
“That’s it. Activate, Team Two.”
It was training that moved his limbs because Jazz couldn’t have walked away from the sight of Dilaver manhandling Vivi. Looking down, he noticed his hands had curled into tight fists and he had to mentally relax them. He turned away to execute his mission. Vivi had succeeded in delaying the third vehicle for him to do his job.
The first set of charges was linked together closely. Like rolling thunder the bridge roared to life, collapsing inward from one end to the other. Another roar sliced the air, this time followed by the frenzied sounds of battle reverberating from both sides of the river as all the hidden men started the ambush.
Jazz turned his attention back to his side, signaling to Cucumber. The big guy clambered quickly over the bank. Their next target was the ditches.
Mass confusion in the kill zone. There were suddenly men everywhere. Dilaver and his men were on their bellies, their faces mirroring their shock as they shouted at each other. The air vibrated from all the firepower. Vivi’s team was shooting, moving in from their hiding places. Dilaver’s men were firing back. And too many damn bleating goats were in everyone’s way. Vivi was nowhere to be seen.
The fourth vehicle and its trailer stopped in its tracks and Dilaver’s men jumped out to help their boss. Some of the first surviving hostiles dove into the nearby ditches for cover. Jazz twisted the handle of the blasting machine, signaling to Cucumber. Soon, the det cords they had laid the night before exploded in sequence. Screams of pain. Men scrambling in different directions. Vivi’s men picked them off.
Jazz watched the far-off figure of Dilaver running back toward his truck. He had a few men with him, dragging weapons and carrying a few wounded away from the kill zone. At almost the same time, the fifth vehicle sped into view, its occupants firing at their attackers. That one didn’t have any trailers hitched to it. The hidden explosives he had wired earlier went off not too far in front of the vehicle and it careened wildly as it swerved to avoid the craters. He ducked as some wildly aimed bullets hit close by and then started heading down to the smoking and dusty kill zone. Something bright and flashy caught his eye. Vivi’s blouse.
***
Vivi screamed and struggled, as any young country girl would, upon realizing the newcomers were Caucasian men carrying weapons. Dilaver was strong, much stronger than she had anticipated, as she allowed him to overpower her.
“What is she saying?” he asked the driver in a Slavic dialect, amusement and irritation etched in his voice. “Look at all these damn goats.”
The driver was obviously the interpreter so Dilaver could communicate with the Triads. “She just called you a ‘devil.’ That’s what they call white folks around here.”
Vivi kicked Dilaver in the shin to make another universal point, screaming in panic.
“Ow, the young thing’s got sharp toes,” Dilaver said and some of his men hanging out of the side of the truck laughed as he held her closer and ran his hand over the front of her blouse. “Not too young. Devil, huh? Ow! Damn girl’s got sharp teeth too!”
He slammed Vivi hard against the side of the truck. She gasped out in pain. “Ha, I bet you fucking understand this. And this.” He crudely groped her. “I think I’m going to keep you for a while.” He dodged as Vivi tried to claw at his eyes. “What is she screeching about now? Tell her I’m going to take care of this nice blouse for her.”
He tore the front of it and Vivi kicked at him again. It wasn’t easy pretending to be afraid when all she really wanted to do was dismember the brute with one blow. The slam against the truck knocked the breath out of her and the pain helped her to remember to hang on to her cool. Just one more minute. She went for an ineffective attempt to escape those horrible hands as the men around her leered and laughed.
“She sure knows a lot of big bad words for a little girl, boss,” the translator told Dilaver with a laugh. “Binchy-san buku diep. Kontet kolong-doh.”
Vivi turned to the other man and spat in his direction, struggling to go after him. Dilaver laughed at her stream of invectives. “What did you say to her? Look at the spitfire! Man, she’s going to be something in bed.”
“I told her she’s a pretty lady and we want to put our pricks in her pretty pussy.”
The men roared. Minute almost up. Time to plant the seed of suspicion. Vivi’s sharp warning had the interpreter chuckling.
“She said, ‘Fuck you and she hopes the Triads kick your arse for going into their territory.’ I guess we have reached the right place, boss.”
Dilaver laughed and reached for the rest of Vivi’s clothes. “Let’s get you out of this thing and see whether you can really fuck m—” His hold loosened as the earth shook with the first explosion. “What the hell—”
Vivi didn’t wait as she tore away from Dilaver, leaving most of her blouse in his hands as she slipped under the truck. Shots erupted. The ground trembled from explosions and weapon fire. Game time.
***
Where the hell was she? Jazz darted from shrub to bush to rock, moving at a steady rate into the midst of the firefight, his eyes sizing up the situation as quickly as possible. The bedlam of the initial surprise attack was slowing down into a deliberate duel between sides. Many of the enemy lay dead or wounded from the first blast and surprise attack. Vivi’s men had taken out most of the men who were looking out of the truck. The few who had dived into the ditches had a big surprise from Cucumber’s and his det cord. From what he could gather, most of the surviving hostiles were from the fourth and fifth trucks.
The rat-tat-tat of submachine guns sallied from different directions and he had to be careful not to be caught in the crossfire as he moved toward the truck with the trailer. Smells from gunfire mixed with smoke and dust permeated the air.
Where was she? He cast glances in different directions, worry gnawing at his guts. Vivi’s team, for some reason, was dressed in black, making the men unbelievably easy to spot. What the hell was that all about? Two of them lay injured, howling and moaning, fifteen or so meters away from the third vehicle with the trailer. Even with the sounds of gunfire, he could hear the screams coming from inside. He hoped to God none of the girls was injured.
Vivi’s blouse. It lay on the ground by where she was last seen. Dilaver had been all over her. The bastard couldn’t have dragged her with him, could he?
Jazz squinted through the hazy air to look farther up the dusty trail. He could see figures running toward the last truck. He had a bad feeling about this.
He knew Cucumber were following him as he made his way closer and he signaled to him to move forward. The big SEAL appeared at his side in moments, a satisfied grin in his face.
“I forgot to say, ‘Look out!’ when they jumped into the ditch. “Ooops.” He indicated his side of the ditch where Jazz could clearly see the bloody effect of his handiwork.
“Cover me,” Jazz said. “I’m heading down there to find Vivi. See that blouse?”
Cucumber glanced at where he pointed, registered the article of clothing on the ground, and his smile disappeared. He looked back at Jazz. “Go,” he said grimly. “I got your six.”
Jazz nodded. He checked his weapon and sped off toward the kill zone. A lone wandering goat bleated as it zigzagged through the bushes.
***
Well, it was good she was still wearing a bra. She hadn’t quite anticipated Dilaver throwing her over his shoulder as he headed down toward the other trailer. She’d thought, being surrounded, he would drop everything and opt to escape. She’d also assumed the first thing on his mind would be the weaponry in the other trailer. Not her. But the arms dealer seemed determined to have a woman even in the midst of an ambush.
Her mind on taking over the rapidly emptying truck, Vivi had been taken by surprise when he’d gone after her. The cries of alarm coming from the trailer were heart-rending, and she had to ignore the urge to run back there to reassure the girls. But she needed to get them out of harm’s way as quickly as possible. She had crawled out from under the truck to get into the cab. Her focus was on the possibility of anyone still inside the truck. The butt of Dilaver’s weapon had glanced off her head hard enough to make her see stars for several seconds, and before she realized what was happening, she was hanging upside down and seeing the object of her operation growing smaller and smaller as Dilaver ran off with a few of his men. He was in good shape, she vaguely noted, as she shook off the pain.
Of course, none of her men would dare to intervene. They had strict instructions to let Dilaver escape. They did, however, manage to pick off two of her captors. That left—she tried to count upside down as her head smacked against Dilaver’s back—six. Maybe. She couldn’t see very well with the blood rushing to her head and making her headache worse.
She had split seconds to decide her next course of action. Right now, Plan B had been, if she was killed, and thus failed to secure the girls’ trailer, one of her commanders would take over the responsibility. But she was still alive. She strained her neck trying to see whether anyone was running toward the trailer. She hoped the two figures in black on the ground weren’t dead. Please, let someone succeed at getting to the trailer before the girls were all shot.
“Get the truck with the weapons! We need the weapons!” She heard Dilaver shout to the few men rushing back toward the trucks. “We’re going to get those bastards!”
She was shoved into the cab and Dilaver and two others squeezed in amid sounds of men scurrying into the back, shouting at one another. She peered over the dashboard. The last truck that had sped past them was blocking much of her view, locked in battle with some of her team. She could see dead or injured bodies hanging over the canvas railings. She grimly noted some of those on the ground wore black. Those were her men.
If Dilaver decided to stay and fight with his weapons, more of her men might fall. Not willing to sacrifice any more lives, she started to point and shout, then curled into a ball in panic.
“Shut her the fuck up.”
“She’s saying ‘Triads,’boss. Those fuckers are Triad men. Seems like that put the fear of death into the villagers. Look at her.”
Dilaver turned and raked her with his eyes. “Ask her how the fuck she knows. Hold the truck from going in after our guys.”
“Yes, boss.”
Covering her bosom with one hand, Vivi backed away as far as she could from Dilaver in fear; she gestured animatedly with the other hand. The interpreter grabbed her by the neck, demanding answers. She pointed again, using all the local euphemisms for the Triads.
“She’s calling them, I think, second brother’s enforcers. Sam Tai Yeh is the standard clan name for the Triads in this area. I believe we’re in the second brother’s territory.”
“Of course we are, you fucking idiot. We’re supposed to meet him! Why the hell are his men ambushing mine?” Dilaver slammed his hand on the dashboard. “I thought we had a deal!”
“Maybe he wanted the weapons free, boss. Those damn slant-eyes are pirates at heart. They don’t like doing business with foreigners, traditionally. They don’t understand business our way.”
“Money is fucking business-understandable!”
“Look up there, boss! One of them is driving our trailer away.”
“I think they believe they have our weapons, boss.”
“Let’s go get the bastards, show them what we have here. Chase down our trailer. We aren’t going to let them take it.”
Dilaver drummed his fingers on the dashboard. “Start the truck,” he ordered. “Those back there! Let’s use the big stuff!”
Vivi had been silent as she listened to their exchange. Grimly, she watched the truck rolled forward. Dilaver might be another arms dealer in most spooks’ books, but she knew better. He armed the KLA in Serbia and was known to have taken part in several very brutal battles. He knew how to conduct a thorough massacre. She wasn’t going to let him expend his energy against her people. Later. Against the Triads. That she had no objection to.
***
“I’m heading up further out of the kill zone,” Jazz informed the team through his helmet intercom. He hoped Hawk was picking up. “No time to coordinate. I think they have Vivi.”
There was a pause. He imagined they were still busy over the other side of the river. Watching from his end, he could see Dilaver’s men were determined fighters. He aimed his weapon and fired off a few rounds. Needed to go very quickly now.
Hawk’s voice suddenly crackled through. “Cumber?”
“He’ll take my six then go back when this is over to report. I’m going in pursuit, over. This is just for me, over.” He had no intention of jeopardizing any of his teammates because of his whims.
“Don’t kill Dilaver, Jazz.”
“Sorry, can’t hear ya, bad connection,” Jazz said. He wasn’t promising anything. Not if killing Dilaver meant getting Vivi back alive. He signaled to Cumber, who signaled back. He was going after those running off. Alone.
“You realize if you die out there, I’ll have to tell your mother and sisters that you were drunk and drowned accidentally?” Hawk piped in again.
Not answering. Standard answer to all family members asking about dead relatives who were killed in covert military maneuvers. Accidental training death.
“So you son of a bitch better get back here alive. I’m too busy back here to get over there to save your ass.”
Not answering.
“You sure?” Cucumber asked, pulling up alongside again.
“Yeah.” He pointed to the final truck blocking his path. “That one has the most live fire. We need to take that down, although Vivi’s team is doing a good job. They are taking down too many of her men trying to secure the truck with the trailer. Let’s intervene.”
“Affirmative.”
“Go!”
They ran like hell, firing their weapons toward the truck. They hoped Vivi’s team would know who they were and not shoot at them. It was a damn risky move but they did it anyway. Jazz was counting on Vivi’s men recognizing them. It dawned on him maybe that was why those men were watching and “playing” with them during the SEALs’ morning training sessions. Had they been familiarizing themselves with his team? Jazz and Cumber jumped into the ditch.
Jazz ignored the dead men close by. Heart pounding, he worked two grenades out of his harness. Then he changed his mind and handed them to Cucumber instead. The other man took them from him, surprise on his face.
“You get the men when they scatter out,” Jazz explained. “I’m heading in myself first, then flashbang them out with gas. You got your mask?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, you’re gonna need it.” He pulled his from his back harness. Looking around, he tore off the front of the black uniform of an injured operative and draped it to the front of his. “Sorry, buddy, got to borrow this. Medic will come and take care of you soon, okay? Cumber, I’ll take the truck and go after Dilaver with it. Hopefully, wearing this black T will make Vivi’s men know I’m on their side and they won’t decide to come after me.”
“How are you going to get Vivi with that truck? They’ll know you’re behind them.”
“No fucking clue.”
“That’s a great fucking idea.” Cucumber pulled out his mask. “Go!”
“On the count of three!” They readied themselves. “One, two, three!”
***
“Look in the back and see what they pulled out from the trailer.”
The man sitting closest to the window leaned out to look at the back of the truck. “They have grenades, some of the submachines, and the RPG.”
Dilaver nodded, eyes trained on the trucks ahead. “Tell them to get the grenade launcher ready. No fucking way I’m going to allow them to take anything of mine so easily. Launch one at the trailer with the girls.”
“Our truck there is in the way, boss.”
“Fuck the truck. Drive close enough so we can pick up whoever is still around it and blow the truck out of our way. I want that trailer taken down. They aren’t getting their hands on my girls.”
Vivi sat there, stunned. The scumbag was willing to blow everyone to bits, including young girls, just to get back at his “enemy.” A rocket propelled grenade launcher meant no survivors to any truck or tank it hit.
She came to a quick decision. To make sure her men had a fighting chance of getting the girls out of the area, she would have to expose herself. Take out the driver and Dilaver before the truck got too close. She looked ahead, catching the tail end of the all-important trailer. If Dilaver reached his men in the truck ahead, there would be too many of them against her team trying to extract the girls, especially if they were going to use explosives. The RPG would kill all the girls and her men, too.
She couldn’t allow for this operation to fail, not now, when so many lives were involved. Her shoes had been equipped with blades that were meant for emergencies. She moved her feet into position, her eyes on the scene ahead, watching the truck and the men getting bigger and bigger.
“Shit, boss, look at that guy gassing our men!”
Vivi frowned. She could see one of her men in a gas mask. She couldn’t remember any of them with any. He had thrown something into the truck. A grenade? No. All the occupants were jumping out, holding their faces and throats. CS gas.
Dilaver’s expression was grim as he watched his men picked off one after another as they escaped willy-nilly, blinded by the gas, uncaring about their safety while seeking to escape the burning sensation. A bunch of hardened killers brought to their knees, gasping and holding their throats. They were close enough that Vivi could see the bloody splatters appearing on their shirts as her men took the dozen or so thugs out. With a small shudder, she looked away for a moment. This was more than she was used to seeing.
“Stop.”
The driver applied the brakes hard and Vivi pushed against the dashboard to stop from going into the windshield. That should teach her to look away again. She had to concentrate on what was happening. This wasn’t the time to be grossed out. She returned her gaze to the sights ahead with dogged determination, trying to figure out what was happening.
“Turn around,” Dilaver ordered. “Keep firing the weapons so they can’t come at us. We can’t go in. They have gas and we don’t have any masks. We’ll just end up like the others. Back up.”
“Yes, boss.”
“We’ll figure out a plan in the woods. Take out the map.”
The truck shook and its tires squealed and rumbled as the driver obeyed Dilaver. A few bullets hit the truck, and Vivi could hear the screams from the injured men. A few who were hanging out fell off onto the ground. One body rolled down the front of the windshield and landed with a thud over the large hood, blood smearing the glass. Vivi remembered to scream. She pulled her foot away from the driver, changing her mind about stopping him. Maybe her time to die wasn’t quite now.
A bullet suddenly cracked the side mirror. “Blow that truck up. That should keep them from using it to chase us down.”
Vivi couldn’t see anything as the truck turned from the chaos but she could hear someone climbing above the cab. As they pulled away, there was a loud whistling whoosh and the truck shook from the ensuing blast. She glanced at the smashed side mirror as they took off down the road. The other truck was on fire. Her heart sank at the thought of the dead men, especially the one in the gas mask. He couldn’t have survived an RPG blast. He’d saved her life. She’d been about to sacrifice hers when he did what he did. Her eyes welled up in tears for the anonymous man who had taken her place. At least the girls were safe now.
A hand groped her thigh, and she glanced at Dilaver. He was as cool and dangerous as an unused stick of dynamite, a small smile on his lips.
“Poor little girl. Not such a spitfire anymore, are you? I’ll wipe those tears off later, I promise.”
She wasn’t supposed to understand what he was saying but his roving hand was quite specific. She pushed his hand away, her skin crawling from his touch. There wasn’t much room to move, squashed against the men in the front. She crossed her arms in front of her as she stared back at him unblinkingly, her chin jutting up in defiance.
Dilaver stared back for a moment, then shrugged. “Bring out the maps,” he ordered.
Vivi hugged herself tightly as she listened to the men figuring out their next move. She was in a dangerous situation, among men who put very little value on lives. She’d just witnessed exactly how little when they had sent their own men to their deaths to ensure their escape. As a young goat-herdess, she was pretty much valueless. But as a GEM operative, she still had a weapon or two up her proverbial sleeve. She would wait for the right moment, give herself a chance to escape without getting killed. She owed that at least to the man who had died for her.