It was easy to lead the shots; I’d done it hundreds of times before. With each high explosive projectile, one of the inbound vehicles blossomed into violent flames and shards of liquid metal.

Within a few minutes, the Bradley had cleared away every obstacle, and the streets around the hotel were empty but for fire and smoke.

I felt a presence next to me, and turned to see a shadow in the seat beside me, a shade of one of the tormented souls inhabiting the photographs.

“Must you?”

“I’m sorry, I really am,” I said. “But I’ve been trained to navigate the dreams of subconscious minds to extract information. The illusory world of ghosts and specters is no different.”

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