“Hey, no sweat.” Deacon grinned under his helmet. “We took these bozos easy. We’ve got the guns, and we’ve got the mobility…”

A screeching, hissing sound jerked all their heads straight up, just in time to see three of the Drasin drones clear one of the smaller buildings with a bound and come crashing down to street level.

“You were saying, Corporal?” Sergeant Steward growled as the three of them scattered, grabbing the local cop as they ran just ahead of the sizzling blast from the enemy weapons.

“Sorry ’bout this, Jaime,” Bermont muttered as he hooked the wounded soldier’s arm and unceremoniously flipped her over.

Normally, he’d be worried about aggravating her injuries, but in this case, two things kept that from being a primary concern. First was the fact that the suit automatically held her immobile while unconscious for just this reason. Second was the fact that he could hear the rapid crack of the scramjet rounds, fired from Russell’s MX-112, as they went supersonic.

Which meant that they were about to have company!

He yanked the wire down from the chute and slapped the clip onto the metal eyebolt, which was located just between the shoulder blades of Curtis’s suit, and tapped an order into the chute’s program.

The CM-powered device lifted off the building, drawing him and Curtis up with it, then smoothly glided back to where the sole remaining local militia woman was still taking cover.

“All righty!” Bermont said to her. “It’s your turn now.”

“Who are you people?” she finally ventured, surprising Bermont.

“We’re here to help,” he told her. “Now come on…arms up…”

She obeyed, her right fist still locked tightly around the handle of her weapon. Bermont clipped the line, then paused and glanced at the rifle-style weapon. “Hey. What does that thing fire?”

“What?”

He tapped the weapon. “This. What does it shoot?”

She looked at it and shrugged. “It is a laser.”

“Laser, huh?” He plucked it out of her hand, despite her attempt to hang onto it.

“Hey!”

“Relax, lady,” he muttered, flipping the rifle over in his hands. “Let’s see. Control panel…can’t read that shit…red light. That probably means it’s hot. Let me guess, this must be the—”

The weapon hummed in his hand and a sharp crack and sizzling sound made him jump. He dropped the weapon in surprise while looking over at the section of wall he’d just melted down.

“Whoa! Holy shit,” he whispered. “That’s impressive.”

People screamed as Milla stepped through the mangled doors she’d bent and ripped open like paper. She really couldn’t blame them. She knew firsthand how frightening it was to see a faceless figure, especially one that had just mangled a pair of security doors with its bare hands.

Not that the doors were all that strong, she had to admit. Strong enough for civilian use, but certainly not constructed out of anything that resembled actual armor. And since they were inside, they weren’t designed to withstand the elements, either.