Sophia ran the last stretch of the southeast wing, her lungs burning. She was on the ground floor, Grace ahead of her, cloaked, instructing her around the occasional SAF placement. She expected to find a large contingent securing the main entrance, and that was coming right up.
‘I’ll clear it,’ Grace said between breaths.
Sophia kept running. She watched the automatic glass doors ahead of her part for their invisible guest: Grace. As she’d suspected, there were plenty of SAF soldiers just outside. They jerked to attention as the doors opened, only to be blinded a second later by Grace’s flashgun.
Grace opened fire, taking them down one by one, then moving for cover while changing mags. ‘Helicopter above!’ she yelled.
The doors were closing. Sophia ran, then slid on both knees. The slip
