Shake was trudging along near the back of the file, ignoring the fire in his thigh muscles and mentally sketching out the medal recommendation he intended to make for Bland, when the signal to halt was passed and everyone dropped to a knee. After a couple of tense minutes, Sgt. Jackson maneuvered back along the file and knelt beside him. “Point man spotted something up ahead in the pass.” Jackson pointed toward a flashing amber light on a peak to their left. “That’s likely a beacon the NKs put in as a navigation aid. It wasn’t there on the way in.”
“Is that a problem?” Shake stared at the beacon and then checked his map with his little penlight. “We’re only a couple of hours from the beach.”
“Maybe; maybe not.” Sgt. Jackson looked at the spot on the map that Shake indicated. “That beacon
