In a motion as smooth as quicksilver flowing across steel, Cinqueda uncoiled. Her arm snapped forward and her big knife flew. Then she dropped back behind the cover, resuming her crouch. She might never have moved. It had happened so quickly Andy wondered if he’d only imagined her moving, but her weapon definitely was gone. Someone outside the truck screamed. Andy risked a glance and saw one of the soldiers stumbling back, the hilt of the knife protruding from his chest. Ballistic cloth was good against bullets, but not much protection against low-velocity edged weapons.