“Okay.”
“You and your family must tell the media that you didn’t know.”
“You mean, like, lie?”
“Yes, we mean like lie.”
“We?”
“Damn,” the woman cleared her throat and lowered her voice, “Jamie, so you know Opera Charlie is launching in the next few days. To go and look for Opera Beta?”
“No.”
“Well you do now. Charlie’s mission is to destroy Beta. Kill everything. The crew are all sick.”
“What do you mean sick?”
“Ugh, I can’t explain. One of our team is undercover on the Charlie mission—” the woman paused, hesitantly, “I can’t talk. I have to go.”
“But wait—”
“You’ll hear from us again. Stay sharp, kid.”
The head shape on Jamie’s forearm stretched into three separate lines. The connection disabled, leaving Jamie on his bed, alone and concerned.
A man in his early twenties approached the weapons bench. An selection of firearms lay on the table – the familiar K-SPARK shotgun and Rez-9 among them. A range of grenades and utilities lined its outer edges.
The man clenched his gloved fists. On the side of his arm he clocked the USARIC logo along with his name – A. Hughes.
Beyond the bench lay a makeshift walkway, resembling a movie set. He adjusted his visor and flicked the lever down by his ear.
Bzzzzz.
The headgear whirred to life, “Heads Up Display activated,” a friendly female voice advised, “Okay, Alex. You have ninety seconds to breach the perimeter and take out all the hostiles. It’s up to you which weapon you choose.”
The contours of each firearm lit up as he scanned the table. A medium-sized semi-automatic caught his attention, “I’ll go with the D-Rez.”
“Ah, nice,” she said. “Lightweight, versatile. Are you much of a run-and-gun?”
“Not really. I prefer precision.”
“Fifty compact rounds per magazine. Slider indicates three-shot burst, then five, and finally outright automatic.”
“I’ll go with the three,” Alex knuckled the lever right up and inspected the side of the firearm. He grabbed a pair of flash grenades and hooked them around his belt.
“Remember. Don’t point your gun and the people you work with. Or any of the civilians.”
“I don’t intend to.”
The woman giggled through his headgear, “That’s the spirit. Approach the start position, please.”
“Understood.”
Alex stepped up to the red line on the floor, ready to breach the first the “building’.
“You look kinda cute in this get-up, by the way,” the woman said. “Fancy a drink after the show’s over?”
“No, thank you,” Alex clutched the grip on the gun and scanned the first room, prepared for battle, “Let’s do this.”
“Record time is ninety point seven seconds.”
“I’ll do it in eighty-five.”
The room’s lights snapped on revealing a variety of desks, chairs, a screen, and a table.
“Here we go. Standby.”
CLUNK-CLICK-BZZZZ.
“Go, go, go,” her voice threatened. “Tango to the right.”
A holographic bad guy jumped up from behind the computer desk and aimed his rifle at Alex, who slid across the floor and fired three bullets.
POP-POP-SCHPANG!
Two in the chest, and the final one in the head. The bad guy hit the deck, dead.
“You’re on your own, now, Hughes.”
“Understood.”
Alex rolled onto his side and flipped himself to his feet. The room was eerily empty, “Left wall, secure.”
“Watch your six, good buddy.”
Alex spun around and blasted another bad guy aiming his weapon at him. He slid across the table as the bad guy opened fire on him.
Sections of the wall burst apart behind Alex as he reached the other side of the table and yanked on the trigger.
BLAM-BLAM-SCHPANG!
The bad guy recoiled from the bullet and smashed against the wall.
“Good going, Hughes,” the woman said. “Get out of there. Detonator set to five seconds.
“On it,” Alex kicked himself to his feet and made for the door.
“Four… three… two…”
Alex launched himself through the door frame and threw his elbows in front of his face.
“One… and that’s boom time.”
He rolled across the floor and kicked the door shut.
KA-BLAAAAAAAM!
The door contained the blast. Its frame shunted around against the impact. The HUD display showed the timer rocketing forward – 15:09.
“Go, go, go,” the woman said into his headset, “You got family at home?”
“Just a girlfriend,” Alex pushed himself away from the wall and stepped back, spying the length of the corridor, “Walkway secure.”
He paced along the barren corridor. Two doors faced each other on each wall at the end.
“Be careful, Alex,” she said. “One of those rooms is full of civilians.”
“Got it,” Alex turned a dial on the side of his visor. The dimmed image of the walkway turned a fussy yellow, pink and green.
“Switching to thermal imaging,” Alex said. He held the D-Rez in both hands and moved forward with stealth.
“You think thermal imaging will help if you discover creatures in space?”
“I’ll give it a try,” Alex pressed his back to the wall.
Oxade and Nutrene watched Alex work from the viewing gantry twenty feet above the set up.
“Who is this guy, anyway?” Nutrene asked, paying particular attention to the young man’s trim physique.
Oxade caught her ogling and knocked her elbow, “Are you checking him out?”
“What? No,” she protested under her breath. “It’s just that—”
“—Just that you want to give him some extracurricular training, right?”
“Don’t talk lessense, you dummy,” Nutrene felt her shoulder and went beet-red.
Oxade smirked and thumped the railing, “USARIC shipped him over from Minneapolis-Two yesterday. Fresh blood from the American Star Fleet.”
“Oh, he’s fresh, for sure.”
Alex unclipped a flash bang grenade from his belt and tossed it into the left-hand room.
BOOM!
A shower of white light exploded through the crack in the door. He pushed into the room with his weapon drawn. Ten holographic actors acting as bad guys and civilians staggered around within his HUD.
“Be careful, Alex. Not all of them are tangos.”
The white mist evaporated to reveal two bad guys with guns. Alex swung his firearm around and popped both in the head with great expediency.
“Two down,” he turned around and was about to shoot a woman in a red dress. She held up her arms and begged for mercy.
“Please don’t shoot.”
“Get down.”
Alex spotted a man grab the woman from behind. His heads up display formed a red line around the bad guy’s body, indicating a fresh target.
The man grabbed the woman in his arms and pushed the barrel of his gun against her temple, “Put the gun down.”
“Unhand her and put your arms up.”
“That’s fifty seconds, Alex,” the female voice advised, “Be careful.”