game. None of this data was available to other players. Only to Outis recruiters.
âSeventeen,â Colonel Bryson said, referring to the playerâs age. âPerfect. You played him?â
âOh yeah,â Ben said. âKicked his butt.â
âWasnât easy,â Anton said. âKid knows how to move.â
Colonel Bryson nodded. âOkay. Watch him a couple more weeks. If he looks right for us, let me know. Weâll insert our AI avatars into a few of his games, get a reading on how he handles special situations.â
Julian knew âspecial situationsâ meant more than tough opponents. The Outis system would have the player face old women planting IEDs-improvised explosive devices-on the sides of roads, little kids who whip machine guns out of their soccer bags, civilians clambering to board a military vehicle. The player would be expected to shoot them.
âShows a willingness to do whatâs necessary,â Ben had told him.
âAll right, guys,â Colonel Bryson continued. âYouâve already been debriefed about the other nightâs fiasco.â
âSir, with all due respect, sir,â Ben said, âI think you mean Michaelâs screwup.â
Colonel Bryson gave Ben an Iâll-eat-you-for-breakfast look-with his bushy eyebrows and all-terrain features, he didnât need to change his expression much to accomplish it. âI just said weâve already been there. No need beating that horse, got it?â
âYes, sir,â Ben said dutifully.
Colonel Bryson scanned the team. âIâm here to inform you that youâre going to have a chance to redeem yourselves.â
âAnother mission, sir?â Anton said.
âAnother mission, yes.â
Michael paled visibly. Julian thought he was going to collapse back onto the couch, but he only wavered.
âThis oneâs like eating your grandmaâs apple pie, nothing to it,â Colonel Bryson said. âRecon, thatâs all.â
Ben rolled his head. âSir, how is that going to make up for-â
âItâs Priority One,â Colonel Bryson interrupted. âStraight from the top.â
Julian thought his eyes flicked his way for a half second.
âMOOTW, gentlemen. Military Operations Other Than War. Youâve studied it. You know it can be as crucial to U.S. security as combat. Though perhaps not as much fun.â He winked at Ben. âWe head out at 1200 tomorrow, so no morning drills.â
âYeah,â Emile said, tugging the air with his fist.
âBen, make sure your team is ready. Get a good nightâs sleep. Gentlemen.â He strode out of the room.
Anton held his palm up, and Ben slapped it. âI thought they were going to ground us,â Anton said.
âUs?â Ben said. âNot us. Weâre goooood.â He made like he was shooting a machine gun. His aim came around to Michael, and he continued shooting. He pretended to raise the barrel and blow at the smoke. âDonât make me do that for real, man. I mean it.â
Michael limped toward his bedroom.
âHey,â Ben said. âWhere do you think youâre going?â
âYou heard him,â Michael said at the door. âIâm going to bed.â
âJust be ready in the morning, dude,â Ben said. âNo sudden bouts of stomach flu. Youâll come with us anyway.â
âNighty night,â Anton said.
Michael disappeared into his room and shut the door.
âMan,â Anton said, âthat kidâs going to ruin it for all of us.â
âHeâll be all right,â Emile said.
âBetter be,â Anton snapped. âElse we can take Julian. Huh, Julie?â
âLeave me out of it,â Julian said, letting the chair settle back to the floor. He stood up and headed for the door. âAnd stop calling me that.â
âOooh,â Ben said. âWatch out, Anton. Youâll make him