“Freebirrrr-” Furey’s final, static-laced scream of denial and pain, cut short. Sinclair winced, imagining the final seconds of the star captain.

“Star Captain Furey, what is your status?”

A new voice, full of his own authority and not a little anger. Sinclair did not recall hearing it in common chatter earlier. He spent little time trying to actually place it; Dominic still needed help.

No, he didn’t.

The Shadow Cat was rising from the center of the building, shrugging off one wooden wall that had fallen over its shoulder. From Sinclair’s vantage point, the factory building looked hollow-though of course that made no sense. But then he couldn’t argue with the way Dominic Paine simply stood and kicked his way free of some light debris. Wood framework and plywood painted to look like brick or stone or metal. Even the widows were painted on-no glass or actual openings.

“Better be careful around these buildings,” Dominic transmitted. “You’ll want a closer look at them. And at those towers flanking the bridge.”

Before Connor could ask after the MechWarrior’s^® comment, the same voice as before interrupted. “Hasaan Furey, this is Star Colonel Ratache Osis! You will respond now!”

“He does not sound happy,” Sorenson said, the MFBs just now crossing the third bridge onto the island. He sounded very satisfied with that idea.

Sinclair looked over the fallen Orion and then to his lancemate’s erect Shadow Cat, a tight smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. So, in fact, was he.

* * *

“Figures, doesn’t it?” Dominic kicked at a support beam, one of several that held up the façade factory wall. “All that work for a decoy site. A Potemkin village.”

For once, Connor Sinclair felt the drain of Dominic’s pessimism. Out of their ‘Mechs while the MFB personnel worked to fix them up-them and the wounded but repairable Orion-the two MechWarriors^® and Corporal Sorenson had walked into the open back of the ‘factory’ building resembling a steel plant. Three coal-burning stoves had been rigged up to provide lots of smoke, funneled up into the wooden tower above to give the impression of activity-the manufacture of armor, apparently. Strobe lights set behind the few real windows in the ‘main plant’ simulated the sparking of welders. Only the towers flanking the bridge were real, and even more disturbing.

“Laser towers,” Connor said, shaking his head. “Naval-grade lasers, ready to knock any DropShip from the sky that tried to make a run against this decoy factory.” He exhaled long and hard, glanced to Sorenson. “Now we know what happened to the Black Hammer.”

Dominic looked worried. More so than usual, that was. “This Galaxy Commander Corbett doesn’t play by the usual Clanner rules. No batchall? Striking at a DropShip from ambush rather than the glory of BattleMech combat? Doesn’t this seem like a deviation from standard Smoke Jaguar tactics and philosophy?” He looked around to see if anyone shared his opinion. Connor met his gaze evenly, giving no hints to his thoughts though they mirrored Dominic’s. Sorenson avoided eye contact. “Well, with those towers shut down, maybe we can get off this hell-hole planet now?”

The corporal shifted uneasily, and Connor speared him with an intense gaze. Overall, Sinclair liked Thomas Sorenson. A burly six foot with close-cropped blond hair chiseled features, the man looked more your stereotypical drill sergeant than an intelligence analyst. Conner’s mental image typically saw them as thin, ferret-featured men who only told you what they thought you needed to know. Fortunately, the corporal didn’t hesitate to speak his mind, and quite often had something worthwhile to say. But underlying the corporal’s demonstrated competence, Sinclair sensed a vulnerability. Sorenson was not an intell officer. He was used to taking some direction from a superior, and that superior had been aboard the Black Hammer.

“You’ve already talked to Taylor,” Sinclair guessed. “Haven’t you?”

Sorenson nodded. “And it’s very unlikely we’ll see him anytime soon. I informed him of the laser towers right before joining you two out here.” He held up one hand to forestall Dominic’s outburst. “I am required to report all intelligence to my superior, and in her absence to the operation’s ranking officer.” Dominic nodded reluctantly. “Captain Taylor won’t risk the Eclipse unless we can prove conclusively there are no other towers.”