Kara stared as well, horrified by the implications of what the others seemed unable or unwilling to comprehend. 'Are you blind?' she shouted, unable to contain herself any longer. 'Look at the number of launches, and the number of men in them! That is an army of the murderers our father sends to commit his atrocities! They will slaughter every last man, woman and child on this island! What is the matter with you? Are you stupid as well as blind?'
Something of her desperation seemed to penetrate into Camilla's wholly egocentric mind, and she turned to Kara's brother uncertainly. 'What is she talking about?'
Kara's brother made a dismissing gesture. 'It's nothing! She doesn't know what she's talking about-'
'You're lying! I can see it in your eyes! Look at the way those men are approaching the docks, the way they're organised in their boats, the way they're standing, holding their weapons. They move like a machine! A killing machine! And those men there, and there, in those two larger boats! What are those things they're holding?'
Kara noted the guns Camilla referred to with a sick feeling. 'They're light armoured field guns,' Kara told her. 'They have about three times the range of a rifle. And you see those men on the other side of them? There, in two groups? Those two teams of men in each boat are carrying heavy machine-guns. Their purpose is to lay down suppressing fire, along with the field guns, which will allow the men in the boats to swarm up the hill in either direction like an army of ants. They will slaughter everyone and everything in their path. So much for your little escape plan. You might as well cut and run while you can.'
Her brother was silent a long moment, unable to refute her words.
'How does it feel?' Kara asked him, allowing a little venom into her voice. 'You and your gun running! You're just a pale imitation of what that monster, our father, is about to unleash upon us! For years now you've been nothing more than a little sneak living in his father's wake, playing in the kindergarten league of dealing arms to gangs and thugs-'
'Shut up!'
'-pretending and play-acting in the arms warehouse of a man who can topple nations and murder untold millions! It would be sweet justice if you managed to cut each other's throats!'
Her brother was tensed to respond violently, but they were distracted by message runners sprinting along the lines of defenders.
'Get out of here! Pull back! The engineers are about to destroy the roads! Get to the high ground and stay there, until you're told differently!'