Chapter 57: Aftermath

"268," Bolton said. "268 dead heroes."

"It could have been worse," said JB over his coffee cup. "Why they didn't open up sooner with that artillery, I don't know. It's lucky I could get there to fly cover."

"Yeah ..." Bolton looked into his own cup. They were sitting in one of the big wardrooms. Groups of freed hostages and troopers sat around at the tables. The hostages all wore brand new blue coveralls to replace their gritty rags. They laughed and chatted with their rescuers. They seemed immensely happy and relieved, and their relief and happiness made their faces shine. Freddie Nimblr made the rounds of the tables, shaking hands and arranging follow-up interviews.