I am SAM, and this is my latest mission. This one's like a cross between a house of cards and a hand grenade with a missing pin. One wrong move, and--BOOM! The whole thing comes down. I've got to be in a dozen different places at just the right time, and in just the right order. Not only that, but this high-tech fortress disguised as a middle school is crawling with guards in the middle of the day. The trick is to act natural when anyone's looking, and then move like the wind when they're not. So I walk casually up the corridor, like I belong here. Deputy Marshal Stonecase passes me by and I give her a friendly (but not too friendly) nod. She has no idea I'm working undercover. That's what the street clothes and prosthetics are for. As soon as I find myself alone, I swing into action. First I check my scanners, perfectly camouflaged inside an ordinary-looking backpack. Once they give me the all clear, I continue to the gymnasium. My first stop is the so-called equipment room. I know it's a flimsy cover for Sergeant Stricker's missile silo, but I can't worry about that now. I work fast. I work carefully. I try not to think about the pair of fully armed heat-seeking missiles just under the floor. And the millisecond my package is delivered, I move on. This next maneuver is what you call a speed round. I cruise through the building like a ninja-tornado, dropping tiny subpackages of coded instructions in every empty corner I can locate. Once the inmates start finding them--and they will find them--they'll know what to do. That's it. Within twenty minutes, my mission is complete. The rest of this operation is out of my hands. So I go back to undercover mode and continue my day like none of this ever happened. In fact, none of it did. (You've got my back, right?) SAM out!