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  “Why do you say that?” Jamie asks.

  “It’s obvious,” Kilgore says. “I built it myself. It’s good. It’s got a lot of mods I made from scratch. I couldn’t have got here without it.”

  “I don’t buy it,” Dale says. “How come Will didn’t just take it off you?”

  “Because I’m the only one who can use it,” Kilgore says. “It takes time. You have to practice, learn the patterns.” Kilgore heaves a sigh. Will must’ve known about the HUD in advance and understood he couldn’t use it himself. Will must’ve been playing him all along. Perhaps he even engineered some of the dangers they faced, just to keep him onside. Did he shoot into the barricade and provoke an attack just so he could save Kilgore’s life and make him grateful? And all that talk about buying his HUD was just a bluff, a smoke screen. “Somehow, I kind of talked myself into this mess. I don’t know how I could’ve been so stupid.”

  Jamie steps forward and pats him on the shoulder. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. Our friend Will is a smooth operator.”

  Dale grunts in agreement. “When I get my hands on that son of a bitch...”

  “Which takes us neatly onto the next item on the agenda,” Jamie says. “It’s time we moved out. Have you recovered from using the shield? How are your energy levels?”

  “I’m good to go,” Kilgore says. “But what’s the plan—do we retrace our steps?”

  “We can’t,” Dale says. “With AIPR0N, you can get past the sentry guns, but we can’t.”

  “Maybe I could disable them,” Kilgore says.

  Jamie shakes his head. “As far as I know, they’re controlled remotely. There’s no way to tamper with them on the ground, and since there are two of them, it would be very risky to try. Even if you could sabotage one of them, your energy could drop too low to sustain AIPR0N, and you’d be trapped in range of the other gun.”

  “And you’re forgetting about Will,” Dale growls. “He could take AIPR0N away at any time, and you’d be screwed.”

  “So we go on?” Kilgore asks. “Won’t that just play into his hands?”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Dale says. “If we work as a team, we can get past the barracks and move on. There are places inside where we can log off and get the hell out of here.”

  “What about Will’s key?” Kilgore asks.

  “I wonder,” Jamie says, “if the key even exists.”

  Kilgore opens his mouth to argue but hesitates. He has no proof the key is real: no evidence at all. “I guess you’re right.”

  “If there is a key,” Dale says, “I’ll make damn sure he never gets his hands on it. I’d sooner blow it to hell.”

  “Agreed,” Jamie says. “Now, let’s get tooled up and ship out.”

  The three men check their gear in silence and move along the racks, selecting what they need.

  “Do you see any C4?” Kilgore asks. “Will says I need to blow the main door.”

  “Hold on,” Jamie says. He sidesteps to a row of shotguns and takes one from the rack then reaches to the shelf above for a box of ammo. “Use these instead.” He brings both items to Kilgore and hands them over.

  “Seriously?” Kilgore asks. “Won’t the door be, like, reinforced steel or something?”

  “Yes, it is. But trust me, C4 is clumsy, loud and unpredictable. These Hatton rounds will do the trick. You might know them as breaching rounds. Fire them straight on at the door, not the frame. Keep the muzzle a little way from the door, and aim around the lock. The rounds do their job then turn to dust so you won’t get hit by ricochets. A couple of shots should distort the door enough to kick it in.”

  Kilgore checks the gun over. “What if it doesn’t?”

  Jamie grins. “Such pessimism! Are you sure you’re American?”

  Kilgore stares at Jamie. “I’m not kidding, man. What if it doesn’t work?”

  “Fair enough. The hinges are also a good place to try. Every door has its weak spots. Good enough?”

  “Guess it’ll have to do,” Kilgore says. He slings the shotgun’s strap over his shoulder and stows the ammo in his vest. “Now I just need to grab a decent assault rifle.”

  “Forget it,” Dale says. “We need to be keep our gear light and move fast. Jamie and I have enough firepower between us to cover you.”

  “No way,” Kilgore says. “I rely on myself.”

  Dale gives him a hard stare. He opens his mouth to speak, but Jamie cuts in first. “It’s simple, Kilgore, we either do this as a team, or we won’t make it.”

  Kilgore shakes his head slowly. “I only just met you. You could be in on this with Will for all I know. I’m not stepping out of this room without an assault rifle.”

  Dale crosses the cramped armory in swift strides and squares up to Kilgore. “Listen to me, asshole, this isn’t just a game anymore. Those are real soldiers out there. This is their territory, and they’ve got more experience in real-life combat than you’ll ever have. They’re the only reason Jamie and I haven’t moved out yet.”

  “Because you can’t cut it?” Kilgore sneers. “Some special forces tough guy you turned out to be.”

  Dale pulls back his fist, his face white with fury, but Jamie puts his hand on Dale’s arm. “Later, my friend,” he says. “When we’ve got past the barracks, you can take as many lumps out of him as you want. Right now, we need AIPR0N, and he’s the only one that’s got it.”

  Dale curls his lip and gives Kilgore a look of utter contempt. “No assault rifle,” he growls.

  “Do as he says, Kilgore. But if you want, you can take some regular shells for the shotgun.”

  “Jesus!” Kilgore says. “Fine. Let’s just get the hell out of here.”

  “Agreed,” Jamie says. “Grab your ammo, and we’ll form up at the door. Dale, you should be on point, yes?”

  “Sure,” Dale says, and the two men move over to the door. As Kilgore grabs a couple boxes of twelve gauge slugs, he hears the men muttering to each other quietly, but he can’t make out what they’re saying. What the hell have I got myself into? he wonders. Could these characters just be part of Will’s elaborate plan? Or were they trying to manipulate him for some reason of their own? Perhaps their plan was even simpler: take AIPR0N from him and leave him for dead. Kilgore chews the inside of his cheek as he loads the shotgun and pockets the rest of the ammo. He knows one thing for sure—whatever happens next, he’ll have to watch his back.

  CHAPTER 20

  Run Like Hell

  DALE LEADS THE WAY ACROSS THE YARD, with Kilgore following close behind and Jamie bringing up the rear. They move fast, covering the ground in seconds, the two older men making scarcely a sound as they run across the concrete. Kilgore tries to copy the way the men move, but his feet won’t find the right rhythm. It won’t matter in a minute, he thinks. Things are about to get real loud. The barracks is already clearly visible on their right, and the yard offers little in the way of cover. Soon, they’ll be spotted, and they’ll have no choice but to engage.

  Dale raises his left hand and makes a chopping motion toward the left. The men change course, veering away from the barracks and heading toward a small gray building that looks like some kind of storage shed. As soon as they are all safely out of sight behind the building, Dale leans back against the wall, and Kilgore follows suit. Jamie stays near the corner and peers back into the yard, keeping watch.

  “This is the best place we’ve found,” Dale says, keeping his voice low. “We can stage our attack from here. The objective is to get through to the other side of the yard. Got it?”

  “I don’t know,” Kilgore says. “I don’t like using the nanobots.”

  “We’re not going to use them,” Dale says.

  “What?”

  “For one thing,” Jamie cuts in, “the little devils will kill Dale and me. We don’t have AIPR0N, remember?”

  “Shit!” Kilgore hisses. “Why the hell will nobody tell me anything ahead of time?”

  “You didn’t need to know, and we can’t have peopl
e second-guessing every damned thing,” Dale says. “That’s how it works. Simple as that.”

  Kilgore sets his mouth in a straight line. “So tell me now, what is the plan exactly?”

  “Jamie and I will set up a field of fire across the front of the barracks. Anyone who comes out gets a bullet in the leg. You shield yourself with AIPR0N, and make your way across the yard. You won’t show up on their threat detection system, but they will be able to see you if they look directly at you. We’ll do our best to keep them busy, but you’ve got to keep low and move fast. Don’t engage unless you need to save your own skin.”

  Kilgore raises his eyebrows. “So what—you’re going to cover me while I run away?”

  “Don’t be an asshole,” Dale snaps.

  “We need you over on the other side of the yard,” Jamie says. “With AIPR0N, you have the best chance of making it across. Once there, you’ll provide cover for Dale, then both of you will cover me. Got it?”

  “Simple enough,” Kilgore says.

  Dale grunts as if he’s certain Kilgore will still manage to screw it up. “Take a look around the corner,” he says.

  Kilgore pushes himself away from the wall and peers across the yard.

  “You see that building across the yard and up on the right?” Dale asks. “Head for that, then take up position and cover the front of the barracks.”

  “No way, man. It’s far too near the barracks.”

  Dale juts his chin forward. “Do you see any alternative?”

  Kilgore leans out as far as he dares and scans the yard. Dale is right—there is no other cover available, but even so, it looks like a suicide mission.

  “Don’t forget,” Jamie says, “these men are used to relying on their HUDs, and you won’t show up as a threat. They’ll concentrate on Dale and me. All you have to do is run like hell.”

  Kilgore moves back from the corner and looks from Jamie to Dale. What the hell is wrong with these guys? he wonders. They’ve only just met him, and yet they’re willing to stake their lives on his actions. “I don’t know. How many men are in that barracks?”

  “We’ve scoped it in the past,” Dale says. “From the activity we’ve seen, I’d say there can be as many as thirty men on any one day. But today, we don’t know for sure.”

  “And we’re only shooting to wound?” Kilgore asks.

  Dale nods. “That’s right.”

  Kilgore purses his lips, and the two men watch him in silence.

  “Kilgore,” Jamie says, “we’ve been waiting for you. We knew that, sooner or later, our friend Will would send someone else in. OK, you’re not what we were expecting, but that’s not important. You’ve proved yourself by getting this far. You can do this—I know you can.”

  Kilgore looks at Dale, studying the older man’s expression.

  Dale takes a breath. “You’ll be all right, kid. You must be able to handle yourself, or Will would never have sent you. Hell, the last two people he picked are standing right in front of you.”

  “OK,” Kilgore says. “I’ll do it. Tell me when.”

  “It’s more the other way around,” Jamie says. “Remember, you’re not invisible to the naked eye. As soon as you start moving, the GDL will wake up and start shooting.”

  “Jesus!” Kilgore says. “You guys are worse than Will.”

  Jamie grins. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But don’t worry, we’ll do our best to keep the buggers occupied. Dale are you ready?”

  “Born that way,” Dale says and turns to take up position at the opposite corner to Jamie. “Let’s do it.”

  Kilgore takes a couple deep breaths and lets his mind access AIPR0N to activate the shield. “Here goes nothing,” he says, then he pushes himself forward, out into the wide open yard.

  CHAPTER 21

  Too Late for That

  KILGORE RUNS HARD. He runs fast. His boots pummel the ground, his legs a blur, his chest heaving with every breath. He can do this. He really can. All he’s got to do is reach the building across the yard and he’ll be safe. And he can make it. He has to succeed.

  The first shot hits the concrete just ahead of him: a sharp crack, a spurt of dust spraying up from the ground. Then all hell breaks loose. Behind him, short, sharp bursts of gunfire ring out as Dale and Jamie pin down the GDL troops emerging from their barracks. To his right, there’s a tumult of shouted commands and pitiful cries of pain. Someone screams for a medic. The harsh rattle of a machine gun splits the air, and Kilgore runs faster, his heart beating like a jackhammer. I was supposed to stay low, he thinks. But it’s too late for that now. All that exists is the ground beneath his feet, the blood roaring in his ears, the air burning in his lungs. His vision blurs, but the building is close now. Closer. He’s going to make it.

  He’s in mid-stride when the bullet hits him in the chest. The pain thuds into him like a savage kick in the ribs, and he staggers sideways. Suddenly, he’s falling, tumbling onto the concrete. He turns and takes the impact on his shoulder as he slams into the ground. His momentum rolls him over until he comes to rest on his back, gasping for air, his mind awash with white-hot waves of pain. He closes his eyes.

  A yell. Dale’s voice. “Kilgore! Get up! Run!”

  Kilgore opens his eyes. I’m still alive! Of course, his body armor has saved him. It takes a lot more than a bullet to get through a Titan 3.5. He rolls onto his side and puts a hand flat against the ground, but when he tries to push himself up to his feet, his arm shakes with the effort. The ground should stay still, he thinks. Why won’t the ground stay still? He flops back onto the concrete. A bullet hits the ground just a foot away from his face, but it doesn’t matter. There’s nothing he can do about it now. He’s far too tired to even think about it.

  “Come on, Kilgore!” Dale’s voice is suddenly too loud, too close.

  That’s strange, Kilgore thinks. Then someone is wrapping their arms around him, grabbing him by the armpits and hoisting him up to his feet. With Dale’s help, he manages to stand. “Where’s my shotgun?” he mumbles.

  “It’s in your goddamned hand, Kilgore! Let’s go. Move your feet, you son of a bitch!”

  Kilgore glances at Dale, and when he sees the scowl on the older man’s face, his instincts finally kick in and Kilgore starts running as well as he can. Dale supports him with one arm, pushing him forward, and Kilgore staggers across the yard. Dozens of bullets smack into the ground around them, kicking up plumes of dust. Dale grunts in pain, but he keeps moving, urging Kilgore forward. They’re almost at the corner of the building when, behind them, the sharp hissing whoosh of a rocket propelled grenade drowns out the sound of gunfire.

  “Take cover!” Dale yells. He gives Kilgore a hard shove that sends the younger man blundering toward the building. Kilgore stumbles, but he twists his body and keeps his balance. His right hand finds the wall, and he swings himself clumsily around the corner, turning so that his back crashes against the concrete blocks. In the same split second, Dale plants his right foot and dives headlong for the safety of the building.

  The RPG hammers into the ground at Dale’s feet. The dull, deafening thud of the explosion floods Kilgore’s senses, sends his mind spinning, though he clings to a single thought: The shield! Yes. His shield is still active, and while the shock wave whirls around him, he doesn’t even feel a breeze on his cheek.

  But Kilgore’s shield does nothing for Dale. Caught in mid-dive by the blast, Dale is swatted from the air, his body thrown headfirst against the wall. He can do nothing to save himself. Nothing at all. His head hits the concrete building with a sickening crunch, and Kilgore can only watch in horror as Dale slumps onto the ground and lays still.

  “No,” Kilgore whispers. “No. He... he came to get me. That wasn’t the plan. He wasn’t supposed to come get me.” He stares down at Dale’s body, his mind rejecting what he sees. He might be all right, he thinks. In a second, he’ll move. But Dale’s arms and legs are splayed out at awkward angles across the ground, and his head is twisted too far
to one side. The man’s neck is surely broken.

  Kilgore’s stomach clenches, and he gasps for air. He couldn’t log off, Kilgore thinks. If only he could’ve logged off. Kilgore swallows, pulls at the collar of his uniform. Can Dale really be dead? Or is there a chance he’s still alive in real life? Will could have lied about the risks, building up the threat to force him to go on. But when Kilgore closes his eyes, he pictures Dale sitting alone in a game chair: his eyes wide open, staring into nothingness, his body cooling, his skin growing pale as the blood drains down to settle in his legs, his feet.

  I wanted to play a game, Kilgore thinks. I wanted to have some fun for an hour, that’s all. Now, at least one man is dead, and many more may be killed or wounded before the day is over. Kilgore opens his eyes. “What have I done?” he murmurs. “What the hell have I done?”

  A burst of automatic gunfire crackles across the yard. Jesus Christ! He’s supposed to be providing cover for Jamie. Kilgore checks his shotgun. It looks undamaged, and it’s loaded and ready to go. He steps over Dale’s body then moves up to the corner. The pain in his chest is fading rapidly, but something’s wrong. He’s breathing hard, and his legs are unsteady. He leans against the wall, and his body urges him to stand still. Every muscle begs him to rest. Not now, for Christ’s sake! He blinks and shakes his head to wake himself up. It must be the tension taking its toll. The adrenaline has starved his muscles of oxygen.

  WARNING: ENERGY LEVEL CRITICAL

  “No,” he whispers. His energy level is lower than it’s ever been before. I forgot to turn off the shield! Kilgore drops to one knee, panting for air. He tries to focus on the instruction he needs to deactivate the shield, but his mind is sluggish and the thoughts won’t come. A warm wave of weariness washes over him, and he closes his eyes. Maybe it’s better this way. He can stay here with Dale, keep him company. Maybe take a nap. A nap sounds good.