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called out the exits, and based on old zoning maps the site they’d holed up in had once been a fiber optic cable plant. I pulled the blueprints up on the brain band, and laid a scaled image of them over the satellite picture. It fit well enough that you could almost see the factory’s outline in the wreckage. The landing areas surrounding it had probably once been parking lots.
    I saw Chief Inspector Ling step out of his office and signal to me from across the room. I switched off the displays and the others at the desks surrounding mine watched with interest as I rose, then headed down the row to join him. Everyone knew about the raid, and knew that the new guy had been given a position on the team. The rumors of my work in Lobnya, including the isolated recon missions of meat processing plants I’d taken part in, had begun to circulate, and voices muttered back and forth as I left the group to follow Ling down the hall.
    â€œKill one for me,” someone said as I passed.
    I caught up to Ling, who had his tablet tucked under one arm and a steaming paper cup of instant tea in his hand.
    â€œThis is it, Shao,” he said. “You ready to get back in the game?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    He pushed open the door to one of the briefing rooms and I followed him in. Sitting scattered among the formation of folding chairs were a group of twelve men. I’d sat with them before on three different occasions while the logistics of the raid had been hashed out, but they had a different set about them now. They knew that after this quick briefing we would be deployed to the security wall, and from there into the rim. Some strained at the bit, while others sat still and unreadable. One, a younger gung-ho type named Shen Liao who’d latched onto me, grinned as he watched us enter. His buddy Xing Su sat next to him looking a bit more serious, while Officer Lo Heng, the man running point on the mission, sat up front with his arms crossed in front of him. He nodded at me, and I took a seat next to him as Ling approached a video screen mounted on the wall and waved a small remote at it.
    â€œYou’ll be leaving shortly,” he said. “Before you do, I want you all to take a look at this. Last night the satellite took a deep scan, and got some last-minute intel.”
    The satellite images that were familiar to all of us by then appeared on the screen, this time overlaid with thermal imagery. There were groups of faint dots visible, and several larger blobs. One big one in particular also had the highest temperature.
    â€œThere’s the cooker,” I said, pointing. Ling nodded.
    â€œYes. The other large signatures are generators, we think. The smaller points are people.”
    I scanned the image, counting seventeen dots. Most of them were clustered together in a group, while the others were more scattered. Ling advanced the frames, and the large group stayed still while the others moved around.
    â€œCaptives,” I said, pointing at the group. “They never move. They’re stuck somewhere.”
    â€œThat’s from last night,” Su said. “They could also be hostiles bunked down for the night.”
    I looked at the cluster. They were arranged almost in a circle. Not what you’d normally expect to see in a bunkhouse.
    â€œIf they’re captives, then that makes only seven hostiles.”
    â€œAnd seventeen if they’re not,” Ling said. “The satellites are still scanning. We hope to have more information by the time you arrive but for now assume the worst case and that you’ll meet with maximum resistance. Either way you should expect to begin your assault soon.”
    â€œWhy would they even keep the captives alive?” Su asked. “That’s just more trouble for them, isn’t it? Plus food, water . . . why bother?”
    â€œNo refrigeration,” I told him. “Meat won’t spoil if it’s alive, so they