Tristian was still sitting in the cold an hour later. After hearing the message, he had broadcast to the fleet once more even as Paolo gave the command to load the trucks and posted gunners on every tower they had. "This is Tristian with Cell Zealous-3. Abort pickup operation, position compromised. I repeat, abort pickup operation, our position has been compromised." It had been hard to get the words out, but he had, and a minute or two later the reply had come in.<br/><br/>"Pickup aborted, Zealous-3. Good luck out there."<br/><br/>It wasn't enough. Tristian had spent the rest of the hour carefully disassembling the listening post, packing it both securely and efficiently so that it would be easy to set up again. He was always particular with sensitive equipment, and more particular when he was angry, so that now he was making sure each piece fit just so and all were spotless before waiting for some of the men to help him load it into one of the trucks. He had argued with Paolo as soon as Gary had finished broadcasting.<br/><br/>"We have to go," Paolo had insisted, even as Tristian tried to convince him otherwise. Gary should have been back earlier, this was obviously a trap, but then Paolo said that if it was a trap the position was definitely compromised, because that was definitely Gary's voice. They argued over whether or not the demons would send them into a cave when they could kill them here without any warning. Tristian said that they wanted them not to board the fleet because it was their only hope of survival, Paolo said that the fleet was too important to risk losing even if they all had to die for it.<br/><br/>Now Tristian pulled himself into one of the trucks, and the driver pulled slowly behind the last truck, forming the end of the convoy. Almost two hundred people in these trucks, another fifty or so that the trucks could not carry walked alongside them, armed and alert in the cold. Paolo was not in the convoy. "Idiot," Tristian said quietly, and when others looked to him for clarification he was silent again.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;">*     *     *</div><br/><br/>The jeep was freezing. In most respects it still worked fine, but the heating didn't ever kick on and Paolo had stopped feeling his fingers some time ago. The soldiers in the two cars behind his had warned him when he picked the jeep, at the time he'd shrugged it off, maybe thinking they just hadn't been patient. By now it was clear, though, there was no force in Heaven or on Earth that was going to make this car comfortable. He laughed to himself when he thought this. "Maybe Hell could warm this thing up," he said to himself. Demons had to be good for something, right?<br/><br/>Not that Paolo hated them. It seemed like they wanted to be hated, and he wasn't going to make it that easy. He'd fight them, he'd killed them before (although rumors made it hard to know if demons were ever really *killed* or not), but he never wasted the energy on loathing them. Not up to this point.<br/><br/>Tristian had been really angry at him. Paolo could tell that. His plan hadn't been at all what the old soldier wanted to accept, but he did anyway - out of loyalty. The two had butted heads before, but this felt more serious. It might have begun the end of their friendship, something Paolo couldn't face if it came to it. He was going to have to make it up to the man somehow, he thought about that for awhile.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"I'm going to the cave. I know the one Gary's talking about."<br/><br/>"That's the worst move you could possibly make. We can cancel the fleet pickup if you're decided, but going out there is just giving yourself, alive, to the enemy. You'll become one of their slaves."<br/><br/>"I'm going. Take the people toward our last safe position. Keep them safe. I'll be back once I've found out what's going on."<br/><br/>"Paolo," Tristian had said in a low, serious tone. Almost threatening. "If you go out there-"<br/><br/>"-Take the radios with you. Goodbye."</span><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;">*     *     *</div><br/><br/>By now Paolo would be arriving at the cave. He'd hop out of the jeep like an action hero, wave the soldiers after him but keep his own weapon holstered. And probably blunder right into the dumbest trap in the world. Shaking his head, Tristian stared down at the gun in his hands. Paolo would come back. He knew that. But when he did, he would be a demon plaything. And Tristian wasn't going to let these people die for the sake of his friend. He slipped the gun back into its holster. "Goodbye Paolo," he said quietly to no one.