"Sergeant Thomas Allenby. Serial number nine four two—" The butt of the revolver cracked against his jaw, hard. Sergeant Allenby laughed bitterly as he spat out a broken tooth onto the packed dirt floor. "If you break my jaw, I won't be able to tell you anything," he sneered. The man cocked the hammer of the revolver and placed the cold steel muzzle against the Marine's forehead. "You will tell me everything!" the man growled. "Starting with how your little patrol managed to find this place!" "Sergeant Thomas Allenby, serial number—" "I have… I don't know what you mean," Allenby protested. "…" "…"