You were approved admission to Sun Canyon Mercenary Academy. There was no official correspondence. You decoded a code phrase encryption in a local newspaper article and accessed a government database to confirm. Your uniform was issued via dead drop. You deduced through wiretap and more code phrases that it was stowed in a duffle bag in the air vent of a motel room some sixty miles west of a nearby city. You retrieved your dorm key from a state of the art vault by creating a false fire emergency and sneaking through the air vents disguised as a firefighter. You are a cunning, efficient new cadet at House Laser Hound. You are a spy. The other houses at Sun Canyon are House Zero Hour, which trains the top brass, House Blood Pact, which runs the numbers, and House Gator Jaw, the front line grunts. You have detailed files on all their staff and facilities. As you enter your dorm it takes little more than a half second to spot your roommate, Adrian, hidden partway behind his desk, using the shaft of morning sunlight coming through window as concealment. His rifle is already trained square between your eyes. He has you dead to rights. This son of a bitch is good. "I heard you get off the elevator." Adrian lowers his rifle. There's no need for introductions, you've already accessed each other's entire digital record. "You won't last long making rookie mistakes like that."