Shocked and silent, the four were led to a courtyard outside. As they walked, John switched on his pocket transmitter with a casual, almost unnoticeable gesture, and murmured a report to the ship. "I'm sorry, John," said the commander, his voice tense with emotion. "There's no possibility of rescue, and I know it's small satisfaction to you that your deaths will be avenged."
The quartet's hands were bound behind them and they were lined up against a wall. The Third Sarge, attended by a good-sized retinue, stood at ease nearby, smoking a cigar, to direct the execution personally.
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