He led Moss and Taylor out of the building, away from the leadys, outside on the hillside. The soldiers followed them. The Sun was up and the sky was turning blue. The air smelled sweet and good, the smell of growing things.
Taylor removed his helmet and took a deep breath.
"I haven't smelled that smell for a long time," he said.
"Listen," Franks said, his voice low and hard. "We must get back down at once. There's a lot to get started on. All this can be turned to our advantage."
"What do you mean?" Moss asked.
"It's a certainty that the Soviets have been tricked, too, the same as us. But we have found out. That gives us an edge over them."
"I see." Moss nodded. "We know, but they don't. Their Surface Council has sold out, the same as ours. It works against them the same way. But if we could—"
"With a hundred top-level men, we could take over again, restore things as they should be! It would be easy!"
Moss touched him on the arm. An A-class leady was coming from the building toward them.