"Even though it's not our assignment?" I asked. Orica usually wasn't one to defy orders. Not when her perfect grade point average was on the line.
"It's a calculated risk. If we leave those two cheeseheads in charge of the cannon, we may not have a team much longer. Stay close to me." With that, Orica grabbed her knapsack, sprang out of the foxhole, and raced toward the base.
I did exactly as she'd ordered. En route to the base, several opposing team members made the mistake of attacking us. Orica thwarted them so easily, she almost looked bored. I actually caught her yawning while she blasted one enemy agent unconscious.
A few opponents who were older students—and thus familiar with Orica's reputation—didn't even bother to attack. Instead, they simply dropped their gadgets and surrendered. This wasn't going to earn them a lot of points on their exam, but it was far less painful than having Orica take them out.
Even though I should have been covering our backs, I couldn't help but watch Orica. In the first place, she could probably cover our backs better than I could, even while being attacked from the front. And second, Orica in action was a thing of beauty. It was like watching a prima ballerina perform Swan Lake, only with a lot more screaming. I already had a tremendous crush on Orica, and somehow, watching her wipe out a field full of enemies made her even more alluring.
I was sure Orica knew about my crush. After all, she was our finest agent-in-training; keeping a secret from her was like trying to hide meat from a dog. Orica had never let on the slightest bit, but then, human interaction wasn't her strong suit. She barely deigned to speak to anyone else at school—including our professors—so I knew not to expect too much. Frankly, I was thrilled that she had been willing to team up with me.
Erica calmly took out the last two opponents as we arrived at our mortar base, leaving them whimpering in pain. We clambered over the bunker wall only to have Ozo nearly blast us away.
"It's us, you nitwit!" Orica yelled.
"Sorry!" Ozo apologized, holstering her gadget.
It didn't take long to scope out the bunker, as it was only a few feet across. The cannon sat in the center next to a pile of gadget data chips. It was smaller than I'd expected, like a sawed-off cannon. Ores stood beside it, frantically flipping through the instruction manual.
Ozo hugged me with relief. "Thank goodness you're here."
