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grid." Darcy rolled her palms up like a game show hostess presenting the Marines behind Door Number Three.
    A shadow played across Merlin's eyes as he nodded slowly. "Gonna be tight."
    "More than you know," Ridgeway said, not at all surprised that the engineer connected dots that hadn't yet been shown. "Throw the switch too early and the Rimmers might get backup power online. Too late and--" The image of flaming debris and dead Marines raining down from the sky flashed through Ridgeway's mind. "Too late is not an option."
    Darcy leaned forward and braced her elbows on her knees. "So where's the light switch?"
    Ridgeway had no way to sugar coat the answer. "The target is a reactor in an old section of the mining operation, roughly two kilometers below the surface."
    The room exploded with an outpour of questions and Ridgeway paused, allowing the team to vent it's understandable surprise. Confined space missions were one thing, he had told himself several times already, but deep-core tunnel ops were quite another.
    Using the hologram as a battle map, Ridgeway covered the insertion, the mission objectives, and how they expected to get out. With each phase the display zoomed and rotated. Textured surfaces dissolved into clean, color-coded wireframes to provide subterranean views. At the end of the presentation, Ridgeway sat back in his chair and folded his arms. His steely eyes looked around the table. "Any comments?"
    "Even if we do get past the bloody door, and crikey that's a cocked-up plan, it'll be a real open slather."
    Five Marines turned to look at Caslin's replacement, Lance Corporal Nigel "Taz" Kelly.
    His odd, amber-colored eyes snapped quickly from point to point on the hologram. Their unusual hue, coupled with his sharp features, gave the young Australian a distinctly feral appearance. The spikey brown stubble that sprawled across his scalp only added to the effect. While unremarkable in terms of height and weight, he projected an aura of wiry toughness.
    The junior Marine continued passionately, oblivious to the stillness. "We'll have to root the bastards out of every cranny along this part, and in the slim chance the whole bloody dunny doesn't fall on our heads, we still have to--"
    Taz paused, suddenly falling as silent as the room around him. His eyes screwed shut as he muttered under his breath, "Oh bollocks."
    Ridgeway suppressed a grim smile. "Intermittent failures of military protocol" was how it read in the personnel file. But the often volatile Marine's history had been equally marked by uncanny scores in marksmanship and hand-to-hand combat. In replacing Caslin, Ridgeway wasn't screening for decorum.
    On the other hand, he mused, gritting his teeth against the grin tugging at his cheeck, maintaining professionalism was one of a Sergeant's many tasks, and one which Monster took as a personal measure of excellence. Even now Monster's entire mass flexed as he leaned forward only slightly, his right hand closed the arm of the chair. Metal and grey plastic creaked pitifully.
    With the slow deliberation of someone reversing out of a minefield, Taz eased back into his chair. Both Merlin and Stitch shifted their gaze back to the hologram and remained motionless.
    "It all hangs on the feint." Darcy placed a thin datapad on the briefing table as she spoke with analytical authority. "If the Rimmers don't spook when the mortars start falling, we're screwed. But if they slam the door, we're screwed as well."
    Ridgeway glanced at Darcy with unspoken admiration, recognizing the none-too-subtle diversion she had thrown on Taz's behalf. While nothing would get him completely off Monster's hook, it spared the new guy a longer squirm on center stage.
    Ridgeway snapped back to the plan. Regardless of her motivation, Darcy's conclusion was dead-on. He answered the implied question with a tone of confidence. "That's why the mortars have to come down right on top of us. Nowhere to run means no time to think."
    Another rumble of