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competition two hundred feet to my left. I use hand signals to direct Squads 7 and 8, my two most junior troopers:
Hold here and cover our rear
. Then I take Squads 1 through 6 to the left.
    “Solomon, do we have a fix on the subject?” I figure this is safe to comm since it’s such an obvious thing to ask.
    “Affirmative, quantum vector 18 down.” Patrick and his codes. His cue is “quantum vector,” which tells me the actual position is the opposite of whatever he says. Mom is eighteen feet up, so two stories. This means we can fight heavy as long as we don’t demolish the whole structure. We pass a row of dark windows that look into a large, dimly lit conference room. I check Li’l Bertha’s sensors and see four targets around the corner. Trick is about to comm in, but I cut him off. It’s showtime.
    “Squads 1 through 6, follow me!” I bang a Madrenaline boost and dash around the corner like a 110-pound demon. Four paramilitary guys are taking cover behind a row of big filing cabinets down the hall. They try to draw a bead on me, but I’m too fast and too small. I zigzag around their shots, waving Li’l Bertha back and forth like a scythe. She lays off the flammable stuff since we don’t want to burn the whole facility down. Instead she pukes out a swarm of large-caliber slugs. Her .50-cals punch through the cabinets and leave gaping holes in the guys hiding behind them.
    Trick comms, “Scarlet, hold up!” I’ve already signaled Squads 5 and 6 to move forward and make sure it’s clear when the wall of the conference room disintegrates in aroar. Squads 5, 4, and 2 go down immediately. The rest of my Squad hits the deck while I switch to infrared and dive through the crumbling wall, toward the ambush. It’s two guys on a crew-served machine-gun. It illuminates the room like a strobe light and makes an incredible racket. Squads 3 and 6 take damage while I bounce a grenade off the ceiling and into the machine gunner’s nest.
    I put my head down, and the floor bucks under me. This is very close quarters. The grenade was only thirty feet away from me when it went off. Something lands next to me. It’s a lower leg, complete with boot. I check Li’l Bertha, but her sensors are dark. All clear. Squads 7 and 8 hustle around the corner, but I had them deployed too far away, and they’re too late to help.
    “Trick, how’d you miss those fucking guys?” I have to yell this over the frantic chatter of my wounded Squad mates. I run to see how badly they’re hit.
    “Alix, you’re going too fast! My scanners have trouble seeing the middle of the building. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
    Raj cuts in. “Solomon, keep the comm in protocol.” Oh, right. He’s using my real name.
    Trick gets back to business, “Scarlet, please report.”
    “All clear. Five nicks, three heavy and two light,” meaning three of my guys are badly wounded and two are just scratched up. Squads 5, 4, and 2 took most of the incoming fire. Their SoftArmor stopped the bullets that hit their torsos but not the ones that hit their arms and legs. Squads 3 and 6 had taken cover to return fire, so the only damage they took was from ricocheting bits of glass. The rest of us whip out field dressings and help the most severely wounded guys first. My hands begin to tremble again. I hold myself together with more Kalmers.
    Cyrus comms, “Raj, reinforce Alpha with yourself and Beta’s lower four.” Cyrus sends Raj to me with Beta Squad’s 5, 6, 7, and 8 guys. Squad members are numbered in order of seniority, with 1 the most senior and 8the least. Cyrus and Patrick will cover the outside with the helicopters and Beta Squad’s four most experienced troopers.
    Alpha Squad’s Med-Tech tends to my injured men while I prowl back and forth watching out for competitors. Raj and Beta Squad’s 5 through 8 charge up the stairs. Raj gives me the hairy eyeball, then looks around to take in the situation. He reassigns the Beta guys as