Timothy stood, shaking his head. “Whoa, wait a second—”

Sophie held up her hand. “Don’t start. I want to hear what Sergeant Overton has to say. I’m not leaving anything to chance. All options need to be on the table. There’s a lot to discuss right now, so you better sit down.”

The programmer bit his tongue, knowing he had used up every ounce of patience his team had left. He flicked the hologram and watched it vanish before heading over to a pair of monitors hanging on the wall.

“Sergeant, with all due respect, I’d like to know how you expect to launch a counterattack with only two other Marines,” Emanuel said. “And you still haven’t told us what happened to the rest of your team.”

Overton resisted the urge to snap at the biologist. He had been anticipating the questions, but still hadn’t thought of the answers. He wasn’t sure how he was going to lead a counterattack, and he certainly didn’t know the fate of his team; all he knew was that Marines didn’t hide in bunkers. Especially when the enemy was outside killing those he had sworn to protect.

“No idea about my team, but my guess is they ended up inside those blue things like the rest of Colorado Springs. As for a counter-attack” —the sergeant paused and stroked the metal handle of his .45—“I’m still devising a plan, Dr. Rodriguez.”

“That’s reassuring,” Timothy said under his breath.

Emanuel ignored him. “There is one other thing that still doesn’t make sense to me. How did Owen manage to escape when no one else was able to?”

“He’s a kid. Kids are good at hide and seek,” Timothy said with a nervous chuckle. “No, but seriously, he probably just hid until they—whatever they are—left.”

“Actually, I have a theory about that,” Sophie said. “Let’s go over the facts first. Timothy, make note of these on the smart board. Sergeant Overton, tell us what you know.”