He stood on top of the helicopter, surveying his new kingdom as the flames rose up around him. The rest of his squad was waiting. Three had been thrown from the helicopter and shattered both of his legs on impact, but the rest were combat-effective. Find his trail. We will pursue Franks to the ends of this world. Kurst stepped off the edge and walked away as the ammunition inside the Blackhawk began to cook off.

Remarkably, Stricken was alive. He did not appear to be wounded, or even emotionally shaken. His suit was not even dirty, or even particularly wrinkly for that matter. He’d even taken an umbrella with him, and had opened it to stay out of the rain. He was watching the burning chopper, the firelight reflecting on his sunglasses. Stricken did not look like he’d just been through a terrible crash at all.

The albino has even more secrets than I expected.

“Damn it . . . This is why we can’t have nice things. You have any idea how many strings I have to pull in order to requisition good military equipment for Task Force use, First?”

“Kurst.”

“Whatever.” Stricken waved his hand dismissively. “Somebody get me a radio. I need to contact the other chopper.”

Kurst removed his radio from his armor and handed it to his superior. Stricken made contact with the other team and began giving orders. The albino is slippery. Make note of this for when the time comes to eliminate him. Stricken may have possessed a few dark magic tricks of an unknown nature, but demons were very thorough.

“Okay. If you’ve got a visual on our buddy, get your ass back here and pick me up now. Wait. On second thought, leave a couple of our special troops on him to make sure the deed is done. I want a body. I want this shit confirmed. . . . Yes. We’ll pick them up later. Leave a babysitter with them to make sure they don’t get too crazy, then come get me.” Stricken handed Kurst back his radio. “It looks like it was Myers that was wounded. They’ve got him trapped. How are we doing here?”

“One KIA. Two seriously wounded. The remainder are combat effective.” And just in case Stricken cared about the lesser beings, Kurst added, “The humans on board were KIA except for you, sir.”

“I was lucky.”

“How did you make it out?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir.” Regardless of what manner of man you are, you are still just a man. As much pleasure as it would bring him to crush the disrespectful insect, Stricken had not yet outlived his usefulness to the host. “I am requesting permission to pursue Franks.”

He glanced at the fire. “It seems I’m fresh out of handlers . . .” But Stricken was mulling it over. “Can you keep a low profile?”