“’Bout twelve a you yellow-bellies git outa my way,” he yelled. “I’m comin’ through.”
Nagle moved close to Williams, and shouted something to him. The noise drowned it. Kramer swung back to me, frantic to regain his sway over the mob.
“Once I’m out of the way, there’ll be a general purge,” he roared. The hubbub faded, as men turned to hear him.
“You’re all marked men. He’s gone mad. He won’t let one of you live.” Kramer had their eyes now. “Take him now,” he shouted, and seized my arm to begin the action.
He’d rushed it a little. I hit him across the face with the back of my hand. No one jumped to his assistance. I drew my 2mm. “If you ever lay a hand on your Commanding Officer again, I’ll burn you where you stand, Kramer.”
Then a voice came from behind me. “You’re not killing anybody without a trial, Captain.” Joyce stood there with two of the crew chiefs, needler in hand. Fine and Taylor were not in sight.
I pushed Kramer out of my way and walked up to Joyce.
“Hand me that weapon, Junior, butt first,” I said. I looked him in the eye with all the glare I had. He stepped back a pace.
“Why don’t you jump him,” he called to the crowd.
The wall annunciator hummed and spoke.