In that instant, he spots me in his peripheral vision. Inhumanly fast, he spins and fires. Thank Ghu his marksmanship’s nowhere near as jazzed as his reactions. His burst goes high, smashing concrete chips from the ceiling, and sending ricochets whining off behind us. I fire my own burst a second later—starting low, like the chip in my head tells me, and walking the burst up into his body.