They reached the extraction point—an old subway entrance.

The squad laid down suppressing fire, retreating toward the subway stairs. Jace held the line, his hand burning, his vision blurring. He marked the last known enemy positions for the gunship circling overhead.

Jace collapsed against the cold tile floor, pulling his ruined hand from the Pack. The skin was red and blistering, the pain a dull throb now. The HQ Pack, its job done, let out a final sigh and powered down, the blue light fading to black.

"Impact in three... two... one."

"Take it down!" Miller ordered.

"We're alive, Sarge," he whispered. "That makes it worth the price."