He looked at the others. "What? Do I drink alone?" he jeered. "What paltry rogues!"

"I might as well join you," said Chip with a grin, taking the bottle from Fal. "We humans don't feel the same as the bats do about sex in public either. So, although heaven knows when I'll get to see Ginny again, after this, and I'd rather be doing other things, I might as well drink. We're bound to be stuck here for ages."

It was obviously an inspired decision, because a ten-ton truck immediately came around the bend. It drove straight past, showering muddy water at them as they tried to flag it down.

Chip was just working up to a good swear… when the truck stopped, and began reversing cautiously. The rain, the muddy road, and poor light all made good reasons to reverse cautiously. But when the truck got closer it was apparent the real reason was Bronstein. She was clinging to the little sill above the driver's side window. By her wing-claws. She had the trigger bar of a bat-limpet mine between her feet.

When the truck drew level with them, they saw that the limpet mine was attached to the glass just in front of the driver's wide-eyed face.

"Nice of you to offer to help," said Chip evenly.

Once a little misunderstanding got cleared up, the driver had been very cooperative.

The misunderstanding had been that they couldn't do this to him.

They drove on, all squashed into the cab, through the rain and the gathering darkness, showering a convoy of motorcyclists in mud.

"Wonder why they were out here? This road doesn't really lead anywhere except to Divisional headquarters and the Front. Those looked like civilian police," said the driver.

"They're probably looking for Ginny," said Chip, giving her a squeeze.

Ginny shook her head. "For all of you. You're important people, too. Major Van Klomp said so."