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Shana’s whole body itched to run. A mile didn’t feel like nearly far enough. That thing could jump a mile if it wanted to. ‘Goddamnit,’ Shana shouted, ‘get the hell back, bitch!’ She hadn’t meant to swear, the girl wasn’t threatening her or anything, but she was too on edge to be polite. She fought the urge to go for her gun. The last thing anyone needed was an accidental shooting, and Shana knew that the gun wouldn’t do any good if it took a mind to head over this way anyway. The girl unslung her…what was that, some sort of weird banjo or something? Whatever it was, she took it off her back as she approached. ‘You seem tense,’ she said. Her voice was soft and musical, with just the faintest hint of a British accent–more like the guy from ‘Heroes’ than like the guy from ‘The Simpsons’. ‘Please, don’t be alarmed,’ she continued, beginning to strum lightly on the strings of her instrument. ‘I am here to help.’ Shana’s eyes flicked back again towards the combat zone. ‘Help?’ she said. He was well versed in all guns, but his forte was with heavy weapons. Megan Salvatore sat across from former Commander Cross, second in command to the squad. Not much had changed since, the busty Latino woman had left the military to follow the man to greener pastures. At five foot ten she was a fairly tall woman, with a muscular toned body. Long raven hair, soft olive skin, a firm ass, and her large breasts had made her a target for most male soldiers. But this sniper had a temper, and wasn’t afraid to let it be known.Twin revolvers graced her sexy thighs, and a vicious machete ran parallel to her belt at the small of her back. An intimidating sniper rifle sat butt first between her legs, and was held with the affection normally reserved for a lover.Next to Commander Cross was the other female of their small group. Tabitha Mercer, a busty red head, with a killer ass, and a killer disposition. The ivory skinned Irish woman was deadly with the pistol at her hip, and the smg in her.
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’ He laughed. ‘Not really. Tell your boss you haven’t slept. That you’re exhausted.’ ‘I am.’ I groaned again, closing my eyes. ‘But it’s completely self-inflicted.’ ‘So?’ He was still laughing. ‘It’s a white lie.’ ‘It’s still a lie. I don’t tell lies.’ ‘Never?’ ‘Never.’ I shook my head for emphasis, my head brushing against his chest. ‘How can I teach the children it’s wrong to tell lies if I do it?’ ‘Really? Okay.’ He sounded amused. ‘What if your friend spent two hundred pounds on a new dress and you thought it looked terrible? You’d tell her the truth?’ He chuckled when I hesitated, dropping a kiss into my hair. ‘Thought not.’ ‘Well, I’ve got a friend who would,’ I protested, my cheeks flaring hot at being caught out. ‘Lisa.’ ‘Yes.’ I frowned, both surprised and touched he’d remembered my best friend’s name. ‘And maybe she’s got the right idea. The world would be a much better place if people were more honest with each other.’ ‘Honesty.’ He murmured the word as though trying it on.

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