“They’re overcompensating. If it hadn’t stopped and tried to scare these men, it would’ve gotten away too.” Franks picked up his guns and started reloading them as he followed the blood trail. The wounded demon had entered, heading one direction, and then turned back to engage the entry team. The other tower guard had kept going. Once he was past the stacks of equipment and shelving it was obvious that the hangar was just a cover for the entrance of a much larger structure. The floor sloped downward. There was a tunnel large enough to fit a semi truck carved into the bedrock. At the end of the slope was a massive steel door, so heavy it had to be operated by hydraulics on the other side.

The blood trail ended at the door. The handle wouldn’t budge. He keyed his radio. “Breachers to main hangar. We’ve got a bunker.”

As they walked back toward the surface, Franks downed another dose of the Elixir. It was better to get the pain and weakness out of the way with fewer witnesses.

Cueto watched Franks grind his teeth and wipe away the tears of blood, but didn’t comment on what he’d seen. That was nice. “I’m guessing this thing was originally built to withstand Russian nukes, Franks. I don’t know if we’ll be able to cut through before Stricken’s reinforcements get here.”

“Got a better idea?”

“Yeah. I should have stayed in bed.”

The Catholic tour bus had arrived and the Swiss Guard were debarking. Their civilian attire had been replaced with flecktarn camouflage and armored vests. They were armed with Sig rifles and surprisingly enough, a few halberds. It was amusing watching them trying to maneuver the long pole arms through the bus door. Not that Franks was going to tell them how to do their jobs. Having dealt with many demons in his life, it was hard to argue with the effectiveness of pinning them to something solid with a giant spear.

Gutterres drove his motorcycle directly into the hangar and parked next to them. “Any luck?”

“They’re holed up below us,” Agent Cueto answered. “It’s going to take a while to get in, and since Stricken probably saw us coming a mile away, I doubt we’ll make a dent in those monster blast doors before his people get here. I hope the Pope has a good lawyer on retainer for you guys.”

The Secret Guard tilted his head. “What gave it away?”

“Your Swiss tourists all said a motivational prayer in Latin before getting back on their bus, and they’re sporting enough crucifixes to open a Catholic school.”

“I’ll have to speak with the Monsignor about being a little more subtle in the future. I won’t confirm or deny anything, but please think of the large Swiss men as our infantry.”

“That make you spec ops?”

“Something like that.”