The artillery room was at the end of a long corridor next to the car park. A room filled with weapons of every size and shape, and a pick and mix of bullets. But who knew how many Ghosts were between me and that room? The locker room was opposite me. I picked up the feet of the unconscious ghost and dragged him in. At least he was out of sight if anyone came looking. I got to my locker and pulled out my bag. I opened it and rummaged round inside – I needed to make do with what I had in here. The irony of being thirty feet away from an arsenal of weapons yet having to go into battle with a borrowed gun and the contents of my tote bag was not lost on me.

*

As I came out of the locker room I was face to face with another Ghost. His gun wasn’t raised. Mine was. I fired. The bullet hit his stomach. The shock made him drop his gun. But he was still standing. And there was no blood. Bulletproof vest. He charged at me, slamming me up against the locker room mirror. The force shattered it. Splintered glass cut into me as I fell to the floor. He pulled me to my feet and clamped an arm across my chest and dragged me down the corridor towards the sound of his colleagues searching the offices. I knew what came next. A little heated questioning about where to find what they were looking for.

That wasn’t going to happen.

I opened wide and bit down on his arm with everything I could muster.

Like daughter, like mother.

He yelped, ‘Bitch!’ and loosened his grip just for a second, but it was enough. I stamped down on his foot and a sharp elbow to the stomach before spinning round and slamming him in the balls with my knee. He screamed out and keeled over.

It was funny how many men wore bulletproof vests. Sometimes helmets. Yet never thought to wear anything to protect the part of the body that could so easily incapacitate them. I jumped on his back and held him in a sleeper hold until he went limp. I dragged him back to the locker room next to his resting friend. Two down.

I felt a sharp pain in my left side and looked down. A mirror shard had sliced into me. It was a deep cut and bleeding heavily. Rummaging through my locker I pulled out a scarf and tied it tightly round my waist, hoping it would stem the flow.

I needed to get to our office before they found the hard drive.