The sky was nearly cloudless. The moon, almost full, drew traces of silvery whiteness across the gentle waves of the Chesapeake Bay. The harbors around Annapolis were a welter of activity, people and vehicles rushing in seemingly all directions. A huge Navy cargo ship was just pulling in, and men were hurrying to get ready to unload it.

On a helipad within sight of all this, a man in Navy dress uniform stood alone. For a while he watched the ship, but then his attention was distracted by the throbbing sound of a helicopter coming in. He looked up; at first he could not see it, but abruptly the aircraft's lights came on. He watched it steadily as it dropped down onto the tarmac. The doors opened; first out was a man he knew quite well, Commander Richard Kent, SEALs. Next came a dark-faced man dressed in camouflage, then one in the uniform of an officer in the Florida National Guard.

Following him, a woman, completely nude, stood framed for a moment in the open doors of the helicopter. She then stepped lightly down onto the tarmac, projecting more dignity nude then most generals and admirals did in their dress uniforms, wearing all their medals. The waiting man moved forward; he did not have to ask who she was. Other men--and another nude woman--exited the helicopter as well, but the waiting man's attention was fixed on the first woman.

"Welcome to Annapolis, Ms. Abbot," he said as he approached. "I'm Captain Barry Garner."

"Thank you, Captain," she responded. "But please. Make it Melanie. I've almost forgotten my last name." She smiled. "Admiral Hansen speaks very highly of you, Captain. He says it's because of your efforts that we're able to use this harbor."

"Popeye exaggerates sometimes," he said with a broad grin. "I spread the word around, that's all."

"And brought the Academy, and all the Naval forces here, around to our side."

"That's where they already were, Melanie. They just didn't know it yet."

"Still, I'm sure you deserve a lot of credit." She studied his face. He was tall, his beard and hair dark but graying somewhat. As had happened before, things fell into place, a vague familiarity became recognition. She knew exactly who he was. "Let me," she said, "introduce the rest of my command staff. Harry Littlebird; Captain James Miller, Florida National Guard; Jackie Perkins; David O'Neill; John Edwards; Mitch Epstein. You know Commander Kent, I believe."

"Yes, quite well." He turned slightly. "This way, please. We have a temporary headquarters set up for you."

"Could we," Melanie asked, "stay here just for a few moments? I haven't seen this end of the operation."

"Of course. Rich has done a magnificent job coordinating all this. It's all gone like clockwork."

"Yes, that's my understanding as well." She looked over at the ship. People and vehicles were pouring off it. "This is the last one?" she asked.

Barry shook his head. "Two more incoming. And a bit of a show for you, in just a moment."

"Oh?"

"Yes. There." He pointed to the water just beyond an empty section of the docks, then glanced at his watch. "Any minute now..."

Melanie watched. A few seconds later, a small object, barely visible in the darkness, appeared, cutting the water's surface.

Then it rose, and a structure looking like a dark building followed, rising out of the sea. A moment later the water fore and aft of the large structure parted, and the full bulk of the USS Orca was revealed, water pouring off her decks. Hatches began to open as the big nuclear submarine moved lightly in toward the dock.

"Beautiful," Melanie breathed. She watched for a moment more, waiting until a large number of her soldiers, ferried here from the seacoast in Georgia and South Carolina, were on the deck. "Captain, what's your feeling about this? Have we gotten away with it?"

He shook his head. "Hard to say," he answered. "So far we have heard nothing from Washington, and we've seen nothing in the movements of the troops massing in North Carolina, to suggest that they have the slightest idea about what we've been doing. Our advantage is that they are, in a lot of ways, not taking your army very seriously. You outnumber them, but compared to them your troops are lightly armed and for the most part, pitifully trained. They believe they can crush you at the North Carolina border, and that after they do, the rebellion will fall apart." He shrugged. "But it isn't possible to be sure. They haven't been flying any low-level recon, Taylor's planes have made sure of that. But the data is there on satellite photos. Those would show clearly that you had tens of thousands of people on foot when you were in Florida. By the time you get to the middle of South Carolina you don't have any. You'd expect some citizen-soldiers to bail, but not all of them. As far as the vehicles are concerned, there are still a lot of them. Without close-range recon, they have no way of knowing they're each carrying nothing but a driver now."

"So why haven't they reacted?"

"They just aren't paying attention. They're overconfident. And that's going to work in our favor." He smiled. "Your whole plan was just plain genius, Melanie; sneaking everyone out and onto the ships under cover of night and keeping the convoy going at the same time. But more than that, it's not in any of the books on strategy. No one's going to be expecting anything like this."

"You're giving me too much credit, now," she said. "I'm sure decoys are in the book. Besides, my idea was to put in at Norfolk. Securing Annapolis for us gave us several hundred more miles."

"That bit with the lead trucks isn't!"

She laughed. "No. But that's Mitch's doing, not mine."

"Your idea."

"Well, yes..." She shook her head. "We need an edge; we need to push on through to Washington quickly."

"You can't expect a cakewalk," he warned, echoing warnings she'd heard before. "They're too mobile for that. The airborne divisions, in particular, will be here before we can get from Annapolis to DC. Our planes can stop some, but not all. We'll have to fight those, and it won't be fun."

"We do understand we're going to have casualties," Melanie said. She watched the submarine again for a moment. "I just hope we can push through and get into the city before the main body of their forces gets here. If we don't, they may in fact be able to crush us. Even with the Navy and Air Force supporting us."

"That's certainly a possibility," he agreed. "And that means, I suppose, that we should get down to business."

"Yes, we should." She turned to the others. "Harry, could you take over for me for a few minutes, get everyone organized in the command center? I want to stay here just a moment more..."

"Of course," Harry answered. "Captain, could you lead the way?"

"No," Melanie said. "I'd like it if Captain Garner stayed here, with me. Just for a few minutes."

Harry nodded; Kent took the lead, and the group walked across the tarmac toward a well-lighted low building. After they'd moved a short distance away, Melanie turned to the Captain.

"I wonder," she said softly, "how things would have turned out if you'd gotten your way that day ten years ago. If Jill had lived."

Barry smiled slightly. "You have an excellent memory for faces, Melanie. Taylor warned me about that. He was sure you'd know who I was at a glance. And he was right, wasn't he?"

"Yes," she murmured. "And yes, I am finding I have a good memory for the faces from my past. Maybe it's because of the--the oral tradition, let's say, that I set up in the Preserve. Watch, remember, tell the stories." She gazed up at him. "Jill's story," she went on, "has been told more than any other, I think."

"You cannot possibly know," he told her, "how much what happened that day has been with me--and with Taylor, as well--since it happened."

"I think I do know," Melanie said with a soft smile. "It's wrong, I think. I'm being given credit for starting all this. It wasn't me. It was Jill, ten years ago."

"In ways I won't argue. The way Jill was--it had such an impact. On me, on Taylor. On Captain Lynch, as well."

"The third man in that group?"

"Yes. Bud Lynch. You'll meet him in just a little while. He's commanding the Orca."

"Ah. I see."

Now Barry studied her face. "I know," he said, "from the stories going around already--Jill was your friend, one of your mentors. I, personally, am the man who killed her. I find it hard to believe you don't hate me."

"No, Captain," she said. "There were hunters--not a few of them--that I would find easy to hate." She gestured toward the command center, where the others had gone. "Every one of those men, except Captain Miller, killed or helped kill at least one girl in the Preserve. It was legal, it was approved, and it was what you came there to do." Melanie's eyes misted. "But you--you, Admiral Hansen, and Captain Lynch--you treated Jill with respect. That was the game then, and that was the way we--the prey--wanted it played."

"I don't understand..."

Melanie shrugged. "You were there to kill. We were there to be killed. We understood that and we accepted it. All we wanted was respect, to be treated like human beings. You did that. There isn't a way, under the circumstances of the Preserve, that Jill could have had a better death than the one you gave her."

"I cannot tell you," he said, "how much it means to hear you say that."

Melanie smiled at him, then reached out and touched his shoulder. "Let's go now," she said. "They're waiting for us inside. We have a lot of planning to do!"