the apron. It would have been legal and simple to roll all the way in, but Highland had insisted on a walk for visibility. Cameras continued to hover far back. So, theoretically, could snipers.
With a whine of power takeoff, the ramp lowered smoothly, and Jason stood there waiting, along with Cady and two of her men.
“Welcome to Mtali,” Jason said as they approached. He smiled and seemed very glad to be together with his friends and teammates again.
“Ma’am, Jason Vaughn is our technical specialist, crosstrained as a paramedic.”
“Pleased to meet you,” she said with little emotion.
“Jace Cady is Agent in Charge of the Facilities Security team,” he said, and introduced the tall Asian woman.
Highland paid attention now.
“Oh, Ms. Cady. So very good to meet you at last.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“I appreciate the opportunity you offer, to work with you.”
“Thank you.”
The effusive commentary had to be political, but unless . . . no, that had to be it. Highland knew Cady was trans, and wanted the political points, but wasn’t going to say so, because any mention of trans status was rude and gauche. It would be funny watching her try to juggle the conflicting issues if it didn’t make him ill to watch his friend being treated like a pawn over a very personal issue.
He stopped musing when he heard the rattle of machine gun fire. Long burst. Mid-caliber.
There was nothing wrong with Highland’s reflexes. She took two leaping steps in the general direction of the vehicle and dove behind a portable shield set for that purpose. Only he’d not imagined it would actually be needed.
That’s why they pay us, and why we do that , he thought. Elke and Bart were closest, dove down with her, and readied to sprint up the ramp on either side of her.
He pointed and shouted, “Contact left!”
Jason shouted, “Suppression. I need some kind of suppression!” Elke didn’t have any explosives, no one had anything but light arms, and someone with a machine gun had them pinned.
Then as fast as it had started, the hostiles disappeared.
That was good, since they were alive and apparently unhurt. Just out of view, Shaman patted Highland down, and he knew that from the surprised yelp everyone made the first time that happened. It was bad, because they had no idea who the threat had been, and it was probable that others would follow.
Aramis made it into the ARPAC in two leaps, braced feet on either side of the turret station, yanked and slammed the charging handle on the cannon, and opened fire in methodical but rapid shots.
Highland started screaming.
“Stop! Stop shooting! Get down, you militaristic asshole!”
Aramis turned and stared, but didn’t let go of the weapon.
“They’re gone, and I don’t want any bad press. Get down!”
Aramis glanced at Alex, who nodded. He shrugged and climbed down.
Highland lowered her voice, but not her intensity. “The whole point of a rating event is lost if someone gets hurt.”
There were two ways to interpret that, but Alex keyed on the proper words, then replayed it again, both mentally and via his recorder, to be sure that’s what was actually said. It was too surreal to anger him now, though he knew it would shortly. In the meantime, he wanted to triple check.
“Ma’am, please clarify for me. That attack was a fake, set to help with your image?”
“It’s more than that,” she said. “It’s about presentation. Poise and confidence are critical to any race, or to any presentation. I needed to start this off on the right foot.”
“Yes, ma’am, but I need to know about these things.” He hadn’t heard any cracks pass by, so either it hadn’t been aimed this way, or they’d been blanks.
“I didn’t know if you were trained enough as actors to be believable. It works better if it’s unstaged.”
Yes, this was a waking nightmare. “It doesn’t really, ma’am. We can act appropriately, and without warning, our default appropriate
With a whine of power takeoff, the ramp lowered smoothly, and Jason stood there waiting, along with Cady and two of her men.
“Welcome to Mtali,” Jason said as they approached. He smiled and seemed very glad to be together with his friends and teammates again.
“Ma’am, Jason Vaughn is our technical specialist, crosstrained as a paramedic.”
“Pleased to meet you,” she said with little emotion.
“Jace Cady is Agent in Charge of the Facilities Security team,” he said, and introduced the tall Asian woman.
Highland paid attention now.
“Oh, Ms. Cady. So very good to meet you at last.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“I appreciate the opportunity you offer, to work with you.”
“Thank you.”
The effusive commentary had to be political, but unless . . . no, that had to be it. Highland knew Cady was trans, and wanted the political points, but wasn’t going to say so, because any mention of trans status was rude and gauche. It would be funny watching her try to juggle the conflicting issues if it didn’t make him ill to watch his friend being treated like a pawn over a very personal issue.
He stopped musing when he heard the rattle of machine gun fire. Long burst. Mid-caliber.
There was nothing wrong with Highland’s reflexes. She took two leaping steps in the general direction of the vehicle and dove behind a portable shield set for that purpose. Only he’d not imagined it would actually be needed.
That’s why they pay us, and why we do that , he thought. Elke and Bart were closest, dove down with her, and readied to sprint up the ramp on either side of her.
He pointed and shouted, “Contact left!”
Jason shouted, “Suppression. I need some kind of suppression!” Elke didn’t have any explosives, no one had anything but light arms, and someone with a machine gun had them pinned.
Then as fast as it had started, the hostiles disappeared.
That was good, since they were alive and apparently unhurt. Just out of view, Shaman patted Highland down, and he knew that from the surprised yelp everyone made the first time that happened. It was bad, because they had no idea who the threat had been, and it was probable that others would follow.
Aramis made it into the ARPAC in two leaps, braced feet on either side of the turret station, yanked and slammed the charging handle on the cannon, and opened fire in methodical but rapid shots.
Highland started screaming.
“Stop! Stop shooting! Get down, you militaristic asshole!”
Aramis turned and stared, but didn’t let go of the weapon.
“They’re gone, and I don’t want any bad press. Get down!”
Aramis glanced at Alex, who nodded. He shrugged and climbed down.
Highland lowered her voice, but not her intensity. “The whole point of a rating event is lost if someone gets hurt.”
There were two ways to interpret that, but Alex keyed on the proper words, then replayed it again, both mentally and via his recorder, to be sure that’s what was actually said. It was too surreal to anger him now, though he knew it would shortly. In the meantime, he wanted to triple check.
“Ma’am, please clarify for me. That attack was a fake, set to help with your image?”
“It’s more than that,” she said. “It’s about presentation. Poise and confidence are critical to any race, or to any presentation. I needed to start this off on the right foot.”
“Yes, ma’am, but I need to know about these things.” He hadn’t heard any cracks pass by, so either it hadn’t been aimed this way, or they’d been blanks.
“I didn’t know if you were trained enough as actors to be believable. It works better if it’s unstaged.”
Yes, this was a waking nightmare. “It doesn’t really, ma’am. We can act appropriately, and without warning, our default appropriate
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