“You will be traveling through the streets of Milton,” Captain Mills says. “Though we’ve removed non-essentials from the area, you will pass civilians during this mission. If any of these civilians is harmed in any way, the consequences to this project would be dire. Though the weapons you carry are not lethal, each of you is. Don’t forget that. If a single person is harmed, your continuation in this project will be voided.”
I wonder exactly what she means by that, and I glance at Riley.
“Voided?”
“Nothing to worry about,” she says quietly. “It won’t happen.”
“What does she mean?”
I don’t get an answer before Captain Mills is speaking again.
“Your objective is literally a flag inside the Yost Financial Building. I stress again: no civilian casualties. Find the flag inside the building and bring it back to base. Good luck, gentlemen.”
I’m fitted with a cross-shaped harness. The black square in the center is activated and glows with a set of green lights, the same color as the tip of the rifles. Riley adjusts a control on the side of it, and I sense the connection between the box and my implants.
“Don’t get hit.” She smiles up at me.
“I’ve got this,” I respond. Hit or not, I have no intention of disappointing Riley.
She reaches up and runs her hand over the side of my face, whispers good luck, and backs away with the other doctors.
I can clearly see a map of the entire area in my head. Each building is labeled, each street named. We briefly discuss the best paths, and I choose the one that is slightly longer but with limited access to the hospital and corporate buildings with the highest chance for civilian interaction, aside from the Yost Financial Building itself. I don’t want to take chances.
Stealth is key.
We move in a triangle formation with me taking point and the others behind me at equal distance. Isaac sets the pace, and our boots thump against the asphalt as we run through the streets.
It seems like I should feel some sense of freedom, but I don’t. This is the first time I’ve been outside and away from the physical confines of the Mills medical facility, the first time I’ve been on my own. There may not be any locked doors around me, but the bars inside my head hold strong. The thought of freedom is only a brief flicker in the back of my head.
“Status.” Riley’s voice calls out in my head.
I take in everything with all of my senses. I memorize the route, the buildings, and the faces I see as we run past. I catalog each sound I hear—each scent, each taste in the air. I count the number of steps I take and average the length of my strides. Comparing my strides, our speed, and the map in my head makes it easy to calculate how long it should take to complete our mission.
“Time to objective, forty-three minutes without incident.”
“There will be incidents, Sten. Keep sharp.”
“Acknowledged.” Before I get the entire word out, movement at the top of a three-story building catches my attention.
“Pike. One-thirty.”
“Verified.”
“Count?”
“Four.”
“Two left,” Isaac says. “Nine o’clock.”
We barely have to speak to one another. One word utterances convey more information than others would be able to convey in sentences. With a glance, I can determine which of the targets is in Pike’s sites and who the next target will be.
Shots are fired, and we dodge in unison before returning fire.
“Targets one, four, five—eliminated,” Riley says. “Two is on the move.”
“Got him.”
“That was all of them. Nice job, Sten!”
I grin slightly at her praise and see a similar expression on Isaac’s face. Pike is scowling, and I wonder what Dr. McCall has said to him.
I focus forward. There’s a fork in the road ahead, and as we approach, I see a large group of soldiers lining the sides of the streets.
“We can take them,” Pike says.
“We could,” I agree, “but we’re not going to. Avoid contact when necessary. Alter course.”
A vibration runs through my head. It’s a tremor, like a feedback loop. My gaze meets Pike’s. He doesn’t like my decision, and I realize the sensation is his silent disapproval.
“Status.”
“Rerouting. New estimated time to objective, twenty-seven minutes.”
“Dr. McCall is questioning your choice of direction. She says you can handle the targets, and the new route will slow you down.”
“No need to engage a large group when there are other alternatives. ETA increased by three-point-six minutes. Sixteen potential complications, including civilian distractions would add six to eight minutes to the time line.”