The tank’s computers authorized the signal in seconds and Eric was well satisfied to see red splotches appear on his HUD a moment later. The signal lock left a little to be desired—it seemed that the heat from the alien drones was enough to spoof the precise lock just a bit—but it was close enough for his needs.

“Got the enemy on my HUD, confirm,” he said, getting to his knees.

“Confirmed. Have one in my sights, matches computer signal,” Siobhan said softly over the network.

One of the signals sharpened distinctly, her instrumentation added to the Guard’s. Eric checked the line of sight on the enemy positions and made his move, sprinting and bounding across Halsey Street, and then jumping up and clambering to the roof of the building there. Climbing in armor was a slightly surreal experience that felt almost like watching a movie more than exerting actual effort, the energy snap released from the armor’s arms and legs causing him to almost literally fly up the side of the building.

On the roof, Eric rolled to a stop and then quick crawled to the edge so he could look out over Zerega Avenue and get a better idea of the situation. The Guard’s tanks were firing on automatic, but they weren’t hitting much of what they were aiming at, which was making things decidedly uncomfortable for him in his current position. It was only a matter of time before one of those DPU shells took out the building he was lying on, and he’d rather not be sitting there when it happened.

“Fire team, are you in position?”

They weren’t. He could see that on his HUD, but Eric figured it would light a fire under Granger. The SWAT commander didn’t strike him as the sort to take any dig at his professional skills lightly.

“Negative,” Granger answered, his tone dark. Eric imagined he could hear teeth gritting. “One minute.”

If he gets them in place in one minute, I’ll owe the man a drink, Eric thought wryly as he glanced at the array of blue signals on the overlay map he was looking through.

Reading a Heads Up Display while paying attention to what was in front of you was something of an art form, one that Eric had mastered many years past. The system operated on an augmented reality foundation, and it let him see “through” the buildings around him to where the men and women were arraying themselves.

He was surprised when Granger actually made the minute deadline by three seconds, and made a mental note to find the man a drink when it was all over, even if he had to loot a liquor store.

“In position.”

“Good work. Targets locked?”

“We have two from here, say again, read three tangos, but we can only see two.”

“Roger. I have number three.”

“Roger. Targets locked.”