Page 115 of Escape Velocity

Max silently agreed. The dog followed as the party headed for the river that flowed toward Port City, with the wounded Tip doing his best to keep up.

“Stay back,” Dubois ordered, “The banks can be treacherous.”

Max watched as some of the men began prowling along the river’s edge, investigating the thick foliage that hung over the slow-moving water.

As the search party worked, Dubois turned to Max. “You achieved your goal. Why are you not happy?”

“I brought evil down on your kin,” he said.

“No, the evil was here long before you arrived,” the security chief countered. “You did us a service by unmasking it—and making sure LaTour did not get to the city where he could do great damage to us.”

A shout from the riverbank brought them both over. Henri had pulled away some brush and revealed a small, flat-bottomed craft stocked with provisions.

Dubois gestured toward Allan. “Paddle this pirogue back to the camp, and take Tip with you.”

“Oui, captain.”

“I can walk,” Tip said stiffly.

“You are wounded—because you were eager to deal with the traitor. Go in the boat now.”

The younger man nodded.

When the boat had departed, the rest of the men returned to the body. As Henri and Max each took one of LaTour’s booted feet and began to pull him along the ground, Bernard growled.

Max gently lowered the boot he was holding and approached the dog. Getting down on his haunches, he said, “I know you don’t understand. LaTour was nice to you. He probably needed to tell someone what he was doing, and he could talk to you.”

The dog seemed to be taking in the words.

Max continued, “But he was only pretending to be your friend. You’ll find another man to play with.”

The dog gave him a solemn look and a little woof.

“I’m going to take him away now,” Max said. “But it’s the right thing to do.”

The dog followed as they dragged the traitor along the ground—back the way they’d come.

Paul scouted the swamp on either side of their route, and it didn’t take long before he was back and shouting that he had found a tarn.

Max and Henri dropped the boots, and they all stopped at one of the brown expanses that looked like a lake of mud.

The security chief gestured to Max. “You switch to his arms.”

Max complied. He and Henri began to swing the body. They threw it into the muck—a fitting grave for the traitor.

Bernard howled once as the body sank and then was silent.

Seeing LaTour sink out of sight took a weight off Max’s chest, but now he had to return to camp and face Amber.

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