by Richard Fox
check out that grid,” Ritter said. “Think we can get a drone over there now and save some time?”
Davis took the sticky note and tapped the grid into a chat box on her laptop along with some quick instructions to the distant drone pilots. A few seconds later, the footage on one of the plasma screens broke off from a leisurely scan of a highway and cut across the countryside.
“No problem. Tonight’s show is a rerun,” she said. She cocked her head to the side, the dark-red bob of her hair shifting to reveal a decidedly nonregulation flower-shaped earring. “Why don’t you sit in the conveniently empty chair next to me? Reynolds is talking to the lieutenant now.”
Ritter scooted into the seat. “Sorry—old, paranoid habits are hard to break.”
“Now everyone will think we’re flirting, not reallocating brigade assets without Reynolds’s permission.” She gave him a wink. The drone footage passed over a white truck speeding along a dirt road.
“Looks like we found a curfew violator,” she said. “Want to follow it?”
“Let’s scope out the grid first.”
The lieutenant broke away from Reynolds and tromped down the stairs. He thrust a piece of paper at Davis.
“Can you send a drone to take a look at this grid? Dragon Company heard an explosion in their sector, and they can’t raise one of their observation teams on the net,” the lieutenant said. Davis wrenched the paper from the lieutenant’s iron grip. The lieutenant chewed his lower lip and shifted his weight to either foot as he stared a hole in the TV monitors.
Davis double-checked the grid and gave a suspicious look to Ritter. “We’re already on it.”
“What? How—”
“Military intelligence officers never reveal their tricks,” Ritter said. “When was the explosion?”
“About thirty…thirty-five minutes ago.”
Ritter scratched his head and looked back at the lieutenant. “That long?” Ritter asked. “When was the last radio contact with the team?”
The lieutenant opened his mouth to speak, but then his jaw dropped open.
Davis gasped and immediately covered her mouth with her hand. Ritter spun around and froze with horror. Two Humvees burned on screen. Flames shone as bright as sunlight from the drone’s infrared camera, black smoke billowing from the open doors of the wounded vehicles. A pile of bodies were laid out between the Humvees, their heat signatures dropping to match the ambient air temperature.
