The brigade, apparently having not seen the fox and his slave, split up into various alleys and side roads.  The command group, about twenty men, walked slowly up to the butcher's shop, checking this way and that for fur soldiers.<br/><br/>"Where's Lemko's squad?  They were supposed to be here by now," said the brigade's commander, a colonel wearing a bright red headwrap.  Though the others around him were carrying clubs, bats, and knives, he and his second-in-command were carrying guns.  The colonel was holding a long-barreled rifle, and the second-in-command, a major wearing a black leather jacket and goggles, was holding a small pistol.<br/><br/>This was the slave's chance to be free again.  He dashed out the door, waving the pouch and screaming, "HELP!  HELP!  THERE'S ONE IN HERE!"