1002 hours, July 14,2523 (Military Calendar)Epsilon Eridani system, planet Reach,Spartan training exercise. Twenty-nine years ago.

John crawled forward and peered over the edge of the rise. A lush, green valley stretchedout below him. In the distance, the silvery reflections of the Big Horn River twistedthrough the thick forest. Aside from a flock of birds that wheeled overhead, there was noactivity below. He inched back to a blackened, hol.low tree stump and crawled inside.

Fred and Linda sat inside the hollowed-out cedar stump. It muffled their conversationsand insulated them from the sol.diers' thermal goggles. "It's all clear for now," hewhispered. A moment later Sam, Kelly, and Fhajad  appeared, ghostlike, from theircamouflaged positions nearby. They crouched outside the cedar stump and watched forpatrols.

From a distance they looked like soldiers on field maneuvers. Each was tall, fit, and agile,and looked to be in their late teens or early twenties. Closer observation told a differentstory. Each Spartan was no more than  twelve years old.

"Weapons check," John told Fred and Linda. "We can't afford any mistakes on this one,especially not with the rifles."Linda and Fred disassembled and inspected their SRS99C-S2 sniper rifles—which they'dliberated from a pair of Tango Com.pany shooters who'd been sent to hunt them downtwo days ago. If the soldiers of Tango  Company didn't capture them and beat them intounconsciousness—this would be fun.

John checked his pistol. CPO Mendez had issued the weapon. It used compressed air tofire a narq-dart. The effective range158HALO: FIRST STRIKEwas twenty meters, and on impact it could drop a rhino in its tracks.

Twenty meters wouldn't cut it for this mission, though, so Fhajad had modified the114mm APFSDS rounds from the sniper rifles, removed their deadly armor-piercing tips,and re.placed them with narq-dart capsules.

When Linda had test-fired the weapon, she promised John ac.curacy to one hundredmeters. The rounds would penetrate flesh, but they couldn't kill anyone—not unless shehit the temple or eyes.

"Okay," John said, "this is supposed to be a training exercise, but this is the seventh timeChief Mendez has made us play with Tango Company.""They're getting pretty tired of losing," Fred remarked with a wry smile.

"That's not a good thi ," Linda told him and flipped a stray strand of red hair out of herface. "They're not goingngng to play fair. You heard the sniper we captured. He said that thistime their Captain told them to win no matter what—even if they had to bloody a few ofus to do it."John nodded. "So we'll return the favor and do whatever it takes to win, too." He grabbeda twig and scratched a square in the leaf-covered dirt. "I'll have command of Red Team:

That's me, Sam, Kelly, and Fhajad. Linda, you lead Blue Team." hajad. Linda, you lead Blue Team.""It's not 'Blue Team,' " Fred complained, and his face soured. "It's just me. How come Ihave to stay and play sniper?" He flexed his hands, and John could sense his pent-up eagerness to get into close-range combat.

"Because you're our second-best shot," John told him. "Andwov ob€>..

ob€>..**. — .— JERIC NYLUND159"Count on it," Linda replied and locked her dark green eyes with John's.

He wondered if that's what her eyes looked like when she sighted through the sniper scope. She never seemed to blink; she always won in games of stare-down.

"After we get the flag," he continued, "Red Team will get out of there. Watch for targets ofopportunity and cover us. We ren.dezvous at the LZ and hopefully no one finds us before then."Fred nodded. Linda hefted her new rifle, which was almost too large for her to lookthrough the scope and rest the butt against the hollow of her shoulder at the same time."You'll be in good hands."John closed his eyes and ran over the details of his plan again in his head. Yes— everything gelled; their odds were good. He knew they'd win.

"Don't come out from hiding at the LZ until I give the all-clear signal," he reminded them."We could be captured... they could make us talk."They all nodded, remembering what Tango Company had done to James. He "fell down a flight of stairs" as they had escorted him from cell to cell in their single-story jail. James hadn't bro.ken ... not mentally, at least.  But John wished he had; it had taken James a whole week to recover.

No—he took back that thought. He was glad James hadn't broken. John would have triedto do the same.

John whistled the little six-note singsong tune Deja had taught them—their all-clear signal. He stood, holstered his dart pistol, and checked the three stun grenades on hisbelt. "I'll see you at the LZ."160HALO: FIRST STRIKE"Okay. Check your mirrors."They all pulled out the shards of mirror they had taken from Tango Company's latrine lastnight. They had taped the edges so they could be handled more easily, and taped theirbacks to re.duce the chance they'd  shatter. The whole operation depended on a fragilepiece of glass, which had John worried.

"Just hand signals from here on out," John told them. "Move out, Red Team."They crouched and clawed and slithered through the forest until they reached a graveltrack. They pushed two large rocks off the nearby hill, blocking the road, then waited inthe brush.

Headlights appeared as a supply truck rumbled down the road and squealed to a halt.Two soldiers got out and scanned the area.

"Think it's an ambush?" one of them muttered and gripped his rifle tighter.

"From those freak Section Three kids? Jesus, I don't know," the driver said. "Screw therules of this exercise." He pulled a Kevlar poncho over his head. "I'm not gonna take a dartin my ass if it is. Cover me."The man riding shotgun got out and walked around the truck. "Looks clear," hewhispered. "Hurry."The driver jumped out of the cab, moved to the rocks, and rolled them off the road.

John ran from the brush and crawled under the vehicle. He pulled himself up and wedgedtight against the undercarriage, close enough that he smelled the rubber from the new tires. Kelly and Sam came next; Fhajad  was last.

They hadn't been spotted. So far, so good.

The two men got back into the truck and proceeded down the dirt road.

Gravel bounced up and caught John in the side of the head, and cut him; blood trickledfrom his ear along his neck, but he didn't dare loosen his grip.

After a kilometer of being pelted by rocks and stung by sand, the truck eased to a halt atTango Company's base. The guard at the gatehouse spoke to the driver, and they laughed.The guard then walked around and  opened the back of the truck.

John squirmed and got his mirror ready. With a flick of his hand, he signaled the others todo the same. John held his mirrorERIC NYLUND161at an angle pointed at the undercarriage of the truck. His hand trembled but he forcedhimself to be steady. He had to.

The gate guard approached the truck with a long pole and a small mirror attached at one end. He stuck the mirror under the truck and swept it along one side.

John matched the position of the mirror with his, moved it steady along as the gate guardpassed him so all the guard saw was the reflected image of the undercarriage—a meter toJohn's left.

They'd practiced this maneuver all last night. It had to be perfect.

The guard moved on to Sam's position, and then Fhajad's, and finally to Kelly's corner ofthe truck.

Kelly's mirror slipped and she fumbled—caught it just before it hit the ground. John heldhis breath; Kelly barely got the re.flective surface in place as the gate guard swept her section.

"Go ahead," the guard said and rapped the side of the truck. "You're clean.""How are the dogs?" the driver asked.

"Still sick," the guard muttered. "Not sure what the heck they all ate last night, but they're still squirting.""Damn," the driver said. He started the engine and rolled into Tango Company's base camp.

Last night Fred had fed the guard dogs a paste made of a few squirrels they'd caught,some unripe berries, and the antibacter.ial ointment in their first-aid kits—a concoction guaranteed to keep Tango's dogs out of the  picture for another day.

The truck parked inside a warehouse. Two men came and un.loaded the back and then left, locking the doors of the warehouse behind them.

John and the others finally eased themselves down from the truck. None of them spoke. Asingle word overheard now could blow the entire operation. They silently massaged theiraching muscles. John bandaged his ear to stop the bleeding.

John ointed to Sam and then at the hood of the truck. Sam nodded and got to work. Johnthen pppointed at Fhajad and to the side door. Fhajad moved to the entrance and began topick the lock.

162HALO: FIRST STRIKEJohn and Kelly patrolled the warehouse, looking for cameras, dogs, guards, anythingthey'd have to remove. It was clear.

Sam returned with four canteens, which he had, according to their plan, filled withbattery acid from the truck.

There was a click from the side door and Fhajad gave them a thumbs-up. They gatherednear the door. Fhajad eased it open, peeked out the crack, then opened it a little more andglanced to either side.

He nodded and moved out, keeping well away from the over.head lights, skirting theshadows of the warehouse.

John and the others followed, pausing............