“They’ve been sat still for 38 minutes. It’s clear they’ve just dug in to defend their flag. I say…”

“You say…” 117 interrupted his Squad Leader, who couldn’t have looked more pissed.

“John, enough of your shit!” He slid a finger across his throat in what he knew would be a futile gesture. “We’ve got the same tacticals as Red Team. We have the same number of cadets. They're boxed in. I say…”

117 coughed. “You say… er… Sir.” I think he genuinely tried not to sound insubordinate. He failed.

“All right, soon to be ‘ex’ cadet. Out with it.”

“Sir, no one who’s that hungry for a win would be so patient. Their tags have not moved once. I don’t know how, but they’ve ditched them.”

I spat, and shrugged. “Is easy. Take off helmet. Tag in helmet. We walk in. Badoom!”

Gunny caught Commander’s eye. “Permission to go in the front door, carrying a lot of helmets, Sir?”

“And they think Blue Team have taken the bait?” The Commander smiled. “Permission granted. The rest of you, split and flank. Let’s get that flag, Ladies and Gentlemen!”