We’re a klick out, and I feel the Riverine’s motion change as the helmsman gooses the throttles. The Baker craft kicks up onto the step as well. Yeah, we’re attracting attention to ourselves, but the time for stealth’s almost past anyway. Any moment now, some radio operator at the NVC facility’s going to be calling for a password or recognition signal we’re not going to be able to give, and then the drek hits the pot. When that moment comes, the closer we are to the shore—and the faster we’re going—the better all around. That’s the plan, at least.