Only to see there isn’t a gate there anymore. Team Baker and most of Team Able are already through, and over the ringing in my ears I hear the ripping of autofire from inside the compound. Typical, considering the situation—the assault troops are tearing things up while their supposed "commander" is still trying to get his brain in gear outside the area of battle. I pick up my assault rifle—which I’d dropped—and grip it in a kind of sloppy port-arms. "Let’s do it," I tell Argent. And together we dog-trot forward.