They moved. Out of earshot of Furlann, he and Hanley had a chat. It had been a long time since Tom had been on the ground, so he ceded tactical control to the groundpounder— after making it clear they ought to take a more circuitous route to the target. Hanley agreed; he had no more interest than Tom did in losing people unnecessarily. As they moved toward their jumping-off point, Tom discovered that it really had been a long time. He wasn’t used to the weight of the combat armor and lagged behind. The squaddies didn’t wait for him when Hanley called for a sprint.