The Captain took off his helmet. He reached for another cigarette. Finally he said, "Do you realize how important this bridge is if there is an attack? It connects one of the routes designated for the relief of the City if it is hit. You were too young for the last war so you probably don't realize what happens when wanderers, escapees hit the road. They can tie it up like a knot so that no one moves. They have other routes they can use. This one is closed. We've got to keep it for emergency use." "What's one truck?" Meyers said. "One truck, loaded with explosives could park in the middle of this huge erector set and blow it sky high. All the Reds aren't in those planes the Coastal Defense sighted. We have some right here, waiting." "But he wasn't a Red. He lives in Kingston!" Meyers protested. "How do you know?" Lowary said simply. He didn't wait for Meyers' answer, he turned and began to walk away. "Captain!" Lowary turned at the sound of Tudor's heavy voice. The stocky officer was waving at him from up the road, pumping his arm with clenched fist up and down, the signal for double time. Lowary took off on the run. He could hear Meyers' feet pounding behind him. Tudor was standing beside a young corporal looking down the steep, rocky embankment at one of the concrete piers supporting the bridge. A small figure was making its way toward it. "It looks like one of our boy's decided to go over the hill," Tudor said tersely. Lowary faced the young corporal. "Unsling that rifle, son, and see if you can pick him off." Lowary felt Tudor's hand on his arm. "There's no need for that, Captain. I'll send a squad down to pick him up." Lowary glanced down at the hand. Tudor removed it. He spoke directly to the corporal, "I said see if you can pick him off!" The soldier hesitated. Lowary knew why. The figure down there was in uniform, probably a friend. The Captain snatched the rifle from the corporal's frozen fingers. He slapped the stock against his own shoulder. "He's probably just a scared, bewildered kid," Meyers cut in quickly. "If I'm wrong, I'll apologize," Lowary said as he sighted down the barrel. He planted his feet firmly and squeezed. The stock slammed him in the shoulder. He cursed, then he squeezed again. This time he remembered to hold his breath. The figure slumped, fell off the concrete, into the water. Lowary juggled the gun once by its balance, then he handed it back to the corporal who was staring dully at the small figure floating and bobbing in the water. "You can send that squad down to get him now, if you want, Lieutenant Tudor," he said before he turned away. * * * * *