A Day in the Life of Marine Captain Cross before the Zoastra Affair Part Twenty Three
Then Cross led his team into the palace. People buzzed around them—all the activity seemed rushed—but no one looked right at any of the humans. Crowds were easier to hide in than sparse locations.
One of his privates, who was scanning the communication channels, put his hand up, signaling that he had something. He pointed to a back set of stairs.
After scouting, they walked up the stairs without much trouble. But they stopped and pulled back when Cross pointed to ten men guarding a door. The private signaled that they needed to get behind the door.
Grace and Rosemarie must be in there. He needed to figure out how to free the women.
His eyes scanned their surroundings. The alien girl in the forest had mentioned a kitchen. A fire would make men on guard jump. But a trained soldier like himself would hold his gun closer and wait for the trap. He needed to find something to get them to leave. There had to be a way, and there might be some other distraction. Not liking the odds, Cross held his men back. They went back downstairs to the courtyard, and he signaled for everyone to keep their eyes open.
For a few minutes, there was no activity. Then a movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Rosemarie Mortlock, Grace Newman, and Lieutenant Southeastern walked out into the hallway, followed by four armed guards. Their luck had just gotten better.
A fair fight. And in a crowd. The situation had shifted dramatically to his favor. One of the women must be lucky to have this happen. Luck had never shined on Cross in all his life.