frags

Murphy simply lifted her arms. There were a couple of clinking sounds, and a pair of metal bits flew up from her hands and arched out to either side of the Water Beetle, landing in the water with little splashes.
They were little metal handles. Soldiers called them spoons.
Murphy was holding a live grenade to either side of their heads.
Freydis’s eyes went very wide.
“Frags,” Murphy said calmly. “Your move, bitch.”
There was an instant of frozen silence.
“Gods, that’s hot,” Freydis said, and blurred as she dove over the railing, hitting the water like a thrown spear.
Murphy turned and pitched the grenades over the far side of the Water Beetle. She had to lob one of them underhand, with her wounded arm. They hit the drink maybe seven or eight yards out, and a couple of seconds later they went off with a roar of displaced liquid that sent a geyser of water twenty feet in the air.


Peace Talks chapter 35, Page 328