Red looked over her shoulder, silhouetted against the New Orleans skyline beyond the open hatch. Wind buffeted the interior of our armored craft like a tornado, forcing me to fight with the controls to maintain our course.

“Drop the drone!” She yelled over the hurricane of sound, though now I could pick her up through the comm-package wired into my nervous system. Straining with the joystick, I slapped a large button, and the ship shuddered slightly as the drone dropped free, catching itself on soundless turbines below us.

Red’s hair formed a scarlet halo around slender, pale features, and she gave me a thumbs up then jumped out. I caught her on the externals, falling heavily onto the roof of the diner and rolling, coming up to her feet, flashing a thumbs up.

I pulled back on the sticks and closed the hatch, easing the throttle forward to circle the scene.

“Breida McKinney, NOW action news, live at the scene of a firefight with N.O.C.A. units on Tulane and Canal. Looks like two, three suspects…“