Epic: Book 03 - Hero by Lee Stephen Page A

called out. “Do not worry about me. Focus only on the streets.”
    “ All right, man.” Jayden turned to the tower.
    Viktor watched the Texan for several moments, then turned to the rooftop’s only entranceway: an elevated, closed-door stairwell. The slayer positioned his rifle and opened the door.

    On the street below, the Pariah once again touched the ground—this time to drop off Clarke, David, and Esther. As soon as the female scout stepped outside, Becan’s voice emerged through her helmet.
    “ Mind yourself, Molly-Polly. Don’t go doin’ anythin’ too British.”
    She scowled as she traversed the warehouse wall. “I’m lucky to do anything at all, besides being a bloody waste of space.” Since Khatanga, she’d been kept on a leash. In practice, she was barely a scout at all.
    “ I guess some people need more time to develop.”
    “ Charming. I don’t see your plaster bust.”
    “ I had one,” Becan answered, “but they accidentally put my real first name, Willard.”
    “ Keep it coming, bollock-brain. Please, I insist.”
    The next voice to emerge wasn’t meant for them. It was Max from the Pariah . “We’re on our way to the federal building, captain.”
    Clarke and David stood prepped by the warehouse entrance. “Good luck, lieutenant,” Clarke answered Max. Behind them, the Pariah rose from the streets. The captain’s eyes met David’s. “On three?”
    “ On three.”
    “ One. Two. Three.” Taking a single step backward, Clarke grabbed the metal warehouse door and jerked it open. He dropped to a knee as David dashed around the corner inside.
    “ Room clear,” David said.
    Clarke followed behind him, quickly assuming the point position. “Stairwell’s ahead, second door to the right. First we clear the ground floor.”
    “ Yes sir.”
    “ Follow my lead.”

    * * *

    Scott eased around a corner. He and Nicolai had pursued the third Bakma into the seminary and up a stairwell, right into a hallway on the second floor. Though the two Nightmen had heard the alien running ahead of them and flinging doors open, they had yet to catch a glimpse of it.
    Behind Scott, Nicolai crouched and covered their rear. It would have taken an impressive effort for the Bakma to have flanked them, but it was still something they would not leave to chance.
    Creeping from the safety of the corner, Scott braced his assault rifle on his shoulder. There are hostages here somewhere. Three doors stood in plain view down the hall—two on the left and one on the right. The hall ended with a left turn. Throughout, illumination was dim. The carpet under their feet allowed them to pad forward with stealth.
    His map indicated to Scott where the doors led. The first left-hand door connected with the next one farther down, forming one large room. It was probably some kind of meeting room.
    He activated his helmet’s ExTracker. It was a motion-detecting device capable of tracking and identifying movement in user-defined radiuses. Only certain officers were allowed to use the technology—Scott never had it until he was a fulcrum. Motion detecting was a controversial affair. In an ideal war, every soldier could utilize it. But soldiers were far from ideal. No matter how often operatives were drilled about false senses of security, they fell victim to it just the same. ExTracker wasn’t perfect technology. Many an operative had charged through a room expecting no resistance, only to be gunned down by something ExTracker had missed.
    Ironically, soldiers on the whole did better without the device, which was no more as disastrously apparent than on necrilid missions. Although it was convenient to help detect a necrilid before it attacked, it was that much more panic-inducing to watch a little dot suddenly soaring across the screen straight at you. Smells and sounds were just as important as visible clues, and with ExTrackers, smells and sounds were taken for granted. Thus, ExTrackers had been banned from all but command