Inhale.
Gunfire, northwest. Maybe a kilometre out. An explosion, close enough to feel through the shock dampeners.
"356-C, why are you out of position? Gamma team needs reinforcements, NOW!"
Exhale.
A fingertip adorned with chipped black paint presses down a key, and a microphone crackles to life.
"Still have four minutes in my break. Over."
Inhale.
"I don't give a damn about your break! Form up with 2980-A and 925-D at this heading and flank the intruders, over!"
The beginnings of a migraine. A bright green map overlays her vision.
Exhale.
"Union mandates two 15 minute breaks and a half hour meal per shift, over."
Her eyelids fall closed.
"If you think for one fucking second-"
Inhale.
"-and your union rep can come and stop me from shoving my FOOT up your-"
More explosions. Radio dead. One eye open. Admin building coming down. Both eyes closed.
Exhale.
Probably not getting her last paycheck. Both eyes open, ignition sequence start. Time to leave.
Didn't like this job anyway.