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like a plane hitting sudden turbulence. The ride immediately smoothed out.
    The troops opened the roof hatches and hot air rushed inside. She shoved in her earplugs as she scrambled to the nearest firing port. She turned the steel plug counterclockwise, then let it fall onto the seat. Bullets plinked against the fortified walls, then seconds later the sharp echo of her troops’ automatic gunfire drowned everything out.
    She shoved the XM8 through the firing port and looked outside through its night vision scope. A dozen insurgents scattered across the courtyard like ants swarming around a disturbed nest. They sprayed the Cougar with their AKs, but they might as well have been using squirt guns. The rounds didn’t penetrate.
    She aimed the XM8. A trickle of sweat rolled between her breasts and she itched underneath the bulky body armor. She slowly squeezed the trigger, then stopped before firing. She didn’t feel even the slightest tinge of fear that she, the predator, could become prey and without that sense of danger, she didn’t want to do it, not from the comfort of her air-conditioned Cougar. But she knew she couldn’t risk her men sensing even a hint of compassion because it would be all over for her—even if she did pay them eight hundred bucks a day.
    With only a few seconds delay, she targeted and fired, retargeted and fired, dropping one bad guy at a time. It was almost fun. Hell, it was fun. And the world was a better place without them, she told herself as she dropped out the empty mag and snapped in a full one. Just then something caught her eye. An insurgent dropped onto one knee and pointed a long tube toward them.
    She shoved the XM8’s barrel back through the port, acquired the target and fired. The shooter crumpled to the ground just as his weapon spat out a trail of flames and a small orange fireball.
    â€œRPG!”
    As she listened to the whistle of the incoming rocket-propelled grenade, she fired off a stray prayer to whatever god was listening and targeted rounds at the first tangos she could find. A clap of thunder rocked the vehicle. She steeled herself for a flash of heat, then searing pain.
    She waited.
    Nothing.
    The tango must have aimed the RPG at Cougar’s belly since that was usually the most vulnerable point on a vehicle. The over-priced jitney actually lived up to Force Protection, Incorporated’s sales promises and deflected the explosion.
    She searched for additional targets, but didn’t locate any. Bodies lay strewn across the courtyard and the house seemed lifeless, as if all the insurgents had dashed outside for action at the first sign of an assault. She lowered her weapon, careful to keep the hot muzzle from touching her leg, then shouted to N OONER . “Give me your best man to clear rooms. Use the others to secure the perimeter. I don’t want anyone coming in and joining us.”
    â€œG ENGHIS , you’re with us,” N OONER said, then gave orders to the others.
    Camille pointed at Hunter. “You’re going in with me. I’m going to find out what Rubicon is always trying to beat us to. We’ll go in with a three-man stack. I’ll take point.”
    â€œThree-man stack or three-man lift?” Hunter said as he got in position to quickly exit the vehicle.
    The men laughed.
    â€œDon’t you fuck with me.”
    â€œUnderstood. Three-man stack, except I’ll be the number one man.”
    â€œYou think point’s too dangerous for a woman?”
    â€œI’d rather have a chick’s gun pushing up against my backside than some ugly dude’s.” Hunter smiled, but this time the men seemed to know better than to even snicker.
    â€œOkay,” Camille said and continued, “but only because I know better than to trust you behind my back.”
    G ENGHIS flashed a signal and they all burst from the Cougar, their weapons sweeping the compound.
    Â 
    At the entrance to the mud-brick