“Roger.” She didn’t bother changing her scope settings.

At a hundred meters, a target that big was basically point blank range for the Hecate. She dropped the crosshairs on the target, judging the shot by eye for a moment when she spotted a heat shimmer appear on the target’s mandible.

“Hit the dirt!” she called, dropping behind the truck as a familiar crackle of burning energy filled the air.

Men and women dove for the ground, hugging behind cover at her order, but not all of them were fast enough. A beam swept the street, burning two cops to a cinder before connecting with the SWAT APC a few feet away from where she’d ducked behind the truck. The armor of the APC stood up to the beam for a whole three seconds before an eruption tore through the vehicle and blew it over onto its side.

Lyssa grimaced and turned away.

There had been men and women sheltering behind the APC, now crushed underneath it.

“Holy shit,” John whispered.

“We need heavy fire support,” Lyssa swallowed. “Contact the Guard. Tell them we can’t hold this ground.”

John stared at her, clearly shocked into incomprehension, but the SWAT man nodded and tapped his earpiece.

Lyssa risked a glance over the hood of the truck, eyes on the things now beginning to move out of the park and into the street. She reached down and pulled the Hecate back up into place. “John . . . you may want to leave.”

“What?”

“John,” she told her superior, licking her lips, “when I open up on this bastard, the others are going to triangulate and rain all hell down on this position. You might not want to be here when that happens.”

“What about you?” he demanded.

“Someone has to hold the ground until the Guard gets here,” she said tersely. “Now get the hell out of here and try and help with the evacuation!”

She shoved him away, then turned back to the rifle and pulled the partial mag. She slapped a full one in its place, then dropped a round in the pipe manually. She was going to want every round she could drop on target if she was right about this. The SWAT man settled in beside her and she shook her head. “No point in a spotter this time, buddy. You may as well get the hell out of here.”

He glanced at her. “You going to rock that thing?”

She didn’t look back at him as she settled her eyes down over the scope. Instead, she just hummed “I love rock and roll” as she got her sight picture settled.

“Time for you to leave, bud,” she said, her nerves fading away.

“Alex.”

“What’s that?”

“The name is Alex,” he told her, picking up his gear. “I would take that from you and make the stand myself, but honestly I figure I’ll get my chance today.”

“Call me Lyssa, Alex. Semper fi,” she said simply. “You’ve got about twenty seconds. Start running.”