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Xris was struck with sudden inspiration. "That's why you were lying under the sheet!"
"Of course." Raoul lifted his plucked eyebrows, astonished that Xris hadn't arrived at this conclusion earlier. "You don't imagine I could let anyone see me like this." His hands fluttered in disgust. "In this ... thing! And with no makeup!"
The charred arc was halfway around the door controls. Rowan, her teeth clamped down on her lower lip, was concentrating on her work. It would take a bomb blast to get her to leave now.
"Rescue-one, this is Rescue-three. I'm on Deck Seven, moving your way." That was Tycho, and the next moment Jamil was on.
"Rescue-one, this is Rescue-two. They've broken through the door controls on Deck Three and there's nothing more I can do to stop them. You're going to have about twenty armed soldiers on you."
"Five more minutes," Rowan begged.
Raoul was plucking at Xris's sleeve. "I have to go back to my room, change my clothes. It's just down the hall--"
Xris caught himself about to laugh. He took a twist, thrust it in his mouth, bit down on it.
"Rescue-three, let me know when you're in position on Deck Eight."
"Coming up on you now, Rescue-one," Tycho responded. "Targets in sight."
"Right. Quong, grenade. Everyone--take cover!"
Quong took a thurmaplasma grenade from his belt, placed it in front of the door, set the timer, and ran like hell
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