The sound of the team sprinting across the riverbed drifted up to them as the Delta sniper’s combat effectiveness number rolled down to forty-five percent. He lurched from beneath the poncho and, respecting the rules of the game, stumbled along in an awkward retreat. Duane got off another shot, but with the addition of movement into the equation, there was no way he could finish the job. Smith, though, knew that he himself could have easily. Incredible.

As they started to the ground, he tried to concentrate on what he was doing but found himself distracted by the green dots representing two of his team dragging Carrie to the safety of the trees. There was no doubt that it was critical information, but maybe a little too much for his present situation.

On the other hand, the kids who had grown up on video games might be able to handle the varied input better. And every study the military had ever done on women suggested a significantly superior ability to multitask. Yet another thing to add to his endless list of things to explore.

When they hit the ground, they ran immediately to the riverbed and managed to cross with no resistance. With fifty-five percent degradation, their Delta opponent wouldn’t attempt a shot that difficult. He’d be retreating toward the flag and help.

When they rejoined their team, all were huddled around Carrie, with the exception of the Ranger, who was crouched behind a tree keeping lookout.

“What do we do with her, Colonel?” Stacy said. “She can’t walk.”

“This is war,” Smith said. “What would you do if we were in Afghanistan?”

They discussed it among themselves and decided one person should stay behind and wait with her for an evac.

“Which one of us?” Gregory Kent asked.

Smith shrugged. “Your call.”

Grayson returned to the group, looking impatient. “We’ve got these sons of bitches on the run and we need to press the advantage. Who here is the most cooked?”

“I feel good,” Duane said, still running on adrenaline.

“I’m tired, but okay,” Stacy chimed in, still looking game. Her file had said she was an avid swimmer and it seemed to be serving her well despite the extra pounds.

“Major?” Grayson said, turning his attention to the overweight man sitting in the mud.

He hesitated a moment before speaking. “I’m getting a little old for this kind of thing. I don’t know if I’m going to make it up that slope.”

Grayson gave a short nod. “No dishonor, sir. Someone needs to stay here and you’ve already made your kill for the day. Now let’s move out.”

*  *  *