"I don't know," James said tightly, "I think it's going pretty good so far, all things considered."

Another sniper round whizzed past, clipping a piece off the already flimsy cinderblock wall he was doing his best to squeeze completely behind. On the other end of the roof, Castle was flat on his back, expression as pleased as would be expected, considering if he so much as inhaled too deeply he'd be a sitting duck.

"So, uh, on to Plan B? I throw a couple of smoke bombs, you roll on your stomach, grab that rifle, and try to cover me so I can close?" The angles were all wrong, but they didn't have much of a choice. Any longer like this, they were going to get flanked. "You owe me a beer for any bullet I catch."

At least that way there'd be something to look forward to. James glanced up at the clouds overhead, internally calculating the wind velocity, and tossed the first smoke bomb without waiting for Frank's reply.