The men were improving.
The camp they'd made for this evening was almost well enough concealed enough to avoid even the better Cetagandan patrols, and they'd correctly picked out the best places to place the guards.
General Ezar Vorbarra let no hint of his satisfaction at the improvement cross his face as he inspected. Personally conducting this refresher wilderness drill had been an excellent idea.
He walked the perimeter of the camp slowly, noting what had been done and what had been omitted.
This thorny dip in the ground should have been guarded, he thought, there was a line of concealed access from those trees--he turned to look more closely,
and found himself face to face with an intruder.
Two sets of reflexes fired simultaneously in Ezar's body, and he was reaching for his disruptor and straightening to attention in the same instant. "What--" he began.
"Quiet," said General Vorkosigan in a searing voice. He watched Ezar's hand move away from the disruptor, and stepped forward. Behind him was a boy carrying a baby, and Ezar blinked.
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