Machine Learning (Captain Allen and DPD SWAT POV)

The Massacre (Akane POV)

"Never shall I forget the principles I accepted to become a Recon Marine. Honor, Perseverance, Spirit and Heart. A Recon Marine can speak without saying a word and achieve what others can only imagine."

I turned each of the six screens on, their knobs clicking in place with purpose. A hum emanated as the fortified displays sharpened into focus, booting to full capacity one by one.

"They don't make them like they used to." Erik patted the edge of one, "Those stupid QLEDs wouldn't last a minute out here."

"They wouldn't even make it through the flight." I joked.

"Let's keep the chatter to a minimum." Perkins sat in the middle seat with a datapad, leaving one on either side of him open.

"You're gonna have to move over." Erik crossed his arms and stood in front of him, "You're in my seat."

"Weird, I don't see your name on it."

"I promised Officer Mayumi that I'd sit in the middle so she didn't have to sit next to you."

Perkins looked at Erik, then me.

I shrugged, "No offense, but..." I sniffed, "You stink."

The Marines had their own surveillance building that was basically a military command center, but we "civilians" were forced to make do – even had to supply our own equipment. We got some help from the local techs, but that was it. Command told us we were just lucky to be watching at all. I didn't argue, though I knew things would've been different if Perkins hadn't been there. Erik and I would've been in that nice, big, air-conditioned building if the FBI's village idiot wasn't there with us.

Perkins shifted to the right seat, his annoyance evident.

"Not going to be much of a show anyway." He mumbled.

"We're here to observe, take notes, and advise if we're asked to." I sat down, unbuttoning my suit jacket, "Not to watch a 'show.'"

Before they left, David took a picture with the assembled androids. His original squad stood alongside units pulled from other teams that'd been hastily attached to his command. These androids had formed bonds with their previous COs and human teammates, if there were any left – bonds now severed without warning. They'd been shoved together under David Allen with no time to learn each other's combat tactics, personalities, or flaws. That meant going in blind, as far as I was concerned.

He asked me to take that picture. I studied it, locked my phone, and tucked it away. Would they mesh well? Follow orders? Keep their shit together?

Wrong time to find out...because they were out of time.

But so were the terrorists.

...

Logging into camera system...

Access: 2ND_MAW_MAG-14

[SCENE_001_VMA-231_R.ROYAL]

[SCENE_002_VMA-231_L.WALKER]

The left screen displayed the fighter jet's forward view in hybrid night vision. The experimental camera struggled with the terrain – rendering it as blurred streaks and patches. When the aircraft briefly stabilized, the view created a hypnotic tunnel effect. But the stability was fleeting.

A VXN-9, an aircraft only a few dozen had been trained on by then, tore through the ravine at Mach 0.9, threading through chokepoints barely 500 feet wide. The feed jolted violently as the pilot banked between canyon walls, and a high-pitched warning tone competed with the automated "Altitude, Altitude" alerts. If that wasn't enough of a distraction, there was a constant buzzing as if someone in the background was flatlining.