"Teniente Dimalanta has broken through!"
The enthusiastic, almost surprised shout came from the soldier manning the western-facing window of the belltower.
I turned and smiled, but took another glance at Roque. He had made it safely to the cover of the storehouse behind the well. Then I shifted my eyes to the dead recruit—our third casualty.
The stiff resistance in the approach toward the presidencia was to be expected. The church was taken with relative ease due to the element of surprise. The presidencia, however, would have to be pried away from an enemy now fully awake.
The cordon to the east was too shallow for comfort. But it would have to hold, for now.
"Historillo, go down and have someone send word to Roque's platoon to stay where they are," I ordered. "To the rest of you, keep your eyes peeled to the east. Make sure to inform me if the enemy makes an advance."
Historillo hurried down the spiral steps of the belltower, rifle slung across his shoulder.
