At that same instant, Macurdy hit the ground too. A moment later the four were on their feet again, this time covered by a flurry of gunfire from the woods. When it stopped, he raised his head. A moment later the four were up and dashing another few yards, again with covering fire. This time Macurdy kept his head up enough to watch. The fire came from four men, in the forest somewhat off to his right, and having drawn no return fire, they didn’t retire so completely behind their sheltering tree trunks when they finished.
Again the four on the ground dashed forward, bolder now, covering ten or twelve yards before hitting the ground. Again they had covering fire from the woods. The instant the covering fire stopped, Macurdy rose to his knees, pumping silent plasma charges toward the men who’d shot, then drapped prone again. At almost the same moment, the men on the ground got up and dashed forward once more, as if they hadn’t noticed his return fire.
It was then he became aware of a sound he’d been ignoring. A plane was circling at a little distance. Still his attention focused on the men in front of him. Their dash not accompanied by covering fire, they lay for perhaps half a minute before one raised himself cautiously to an elbow, then a knee. When nothing happened, he looked back toward the trees-and shouted. Then Macurdy stood, and pumped out half a dozen more plasma charges. The man fell; the others moved not at all, or only twitched.
The plane’s engine was louder. Macurdy started back to the others, somehow certain that the plane was dangerous. “Berta!” he shouted, “take Lotta and run to the forest! Now! I will bring Edouard!”
Confused, she rose only to her knees. The forest was where the danger had been. He gripped her arm and pulled her to her feet. “The forest is safe now! They are all dead there! The plane is the threat now!”
Berta did run then, only pausing to pull Lotta to her feet, and they ran hard toward the woods. Macurdy bent, lifted the marionette-jointed Edouard, and struggled him over a shoulder, then started after them. Now exertion showed him what he’d overlooked: the cost in energy of firing so many plasma charges. He stumbled, nearly collapsing beneath Edouard’s weight, then staggered on. Through the aircraft’s engine noise, he heard its machine gun hosing bullets, and ten yards in front of him, dirt and asphalt spurted. He stopped, nearly fell, heard the engine yowl as the plane banked sharply. Again he started running, heavily, his lungs heaving as if he’d raced a hundred yards with his burden.
And heard Lotta running back to him, crying, “Herr Montag! Herr Montag!”
Dismayed, he shouted, telling her to go back.
Hands on its sides, Krieger leaned out the door, watching the troopers dash forward, hit the ground. From his vantage he couldn’t see the others deliver covering fire, but had no doubt they did. They knew-at least he’d told them—that they might be unable to see the man they had to deal with, an American in a khaki jumpsuit. But he hadn’t realized the man might be able to confer invisibility on the others. He wondered if his troopers realized their unseen targets were lying prone.
After a few seconds the soldiers were on their feet again, sprinting, cast themselves on the ground, and now, as the plane banked, he could see the others deliver covering fire–and fall!
His consternation almost choked him. “Closer!” He shouted into his throat mike. “Quickly! I need to lay down accurate fire. ” Then jerking the door gunner out of his way, he took the gun over and set himself. From behind it he had a smaller field of view than before, but as the plane banked, he saw Montag running, now with a body over his shoulder. Staggering; he must be wounded! Krieger laid down fire in front of him, his goal to stop instead of kill. Alive, Montag was valuable for what he knew, what he could do.
As he fired, he saw Montag stop, actually barely pause, then lumber on again. The plane banked steeply, but Krieger kept his prey in view. In seconds the American would reach forest, unless he killed him. Krieger pivoted the gun on its mount; he dared not spare the man again.