It was primarily powered by solar energy streamed through a microfusion drive. Even under harsh circumstances, the armor could operate for eighteen to twenty-four hours nonstop. When those solar cells were depleted, there was a spell that provided a boost of arcane energy for a time. With any luck, the reserve system would hold out long enough to get a Templar to safety.
When all members of the team had been accounted for, Simon focused on the building. So far nothing had moved in or around the building. There weren’t evenany “gargoyles” present.
Checking for gargoyles had gotten to be second nature whenever Simon’sTemplar went into the city. So much of the architecture was Gothic, and gargoyles had been a prominent feature. But many more of them these days were Blood Angels and other demons from whatever Hell they’d crawled out of.
“Here we go,” Simon said. He drew his sword, a double-edged great weaponforged of palladium alloy that presented four feet of gleaming, rune-etched razor sharpness. It was light enough, with the armor’s boosted strength, towield one-handed.
Simon scanned the street and immediate area one more time. The helmet’s HUDprovided a 360-degree panorama. He could literally see where he was going and what was behind him at the same time. A whispered command to the armor’s onlineentity could change the view from normal to night vision to thermographic.
“Magnify,” Simon said.
“Magnify,” the suit’s AI responded in the melodic feminine voice.
The HUD reflected the changes immediately. Simon was already using night vision. He scanned the building again. There was still nothing there to cause him to scrub the mission. He took a deep breath and took the first step.
Simon crossed the road and avoided the burned-out hulks of the vehicles scattered in the street like a child’s toys. A red double-decker bus that itselfhad once been a sight to see in London lay on its side. Skeletonsadult andchildren, Simon sawwere scattered throughout.
The driver, still wearing his uniform, occupied the driver’s seat. Most ofhis teeth had gotten knocked out during the wreck. A plastic Buddha figurine sat on the dash beside a Hawaiian hula girl. Stitching on the side of his shirt read: GEOFFREY.
Behind him, Danielle placed her hand on his shoulder and cued suit-to-suit communication only. That frequency was used for private chat and to circumvent anyone who might have the technology to break the encryption. The contact also provided an immediate medical readout on the other person.
“Simon,” she said gently.
“Yeah,” he replied.
“It’s nothing we haven’t seen before.”
“I know.” But that’s the bad part, Simon thought. Don’t let me getused to this. Let every one of these sights strengthen my resolve to fight the demons. He turned and moved on.
Danielle stayed close behind him. Her armor was colored green and black, butlike himshe had the camouflage function turned on and its surface rippledwith the night’s shadows.
The other two Templar flanked them and mirrored the placement of the second and third teams. All of them carried swords because of tradition and because the Templar had been training tofight the demons since the Crusades. That warman versus demonwould always befought in close quarters in the cities that men built. They knew no other way, but they had adapted. The Spike Bolter Simon wore at his hip proved that.
“Incoming signal,” the suit AI announced.
“Who?”
“Unknown.”
Simon signaled the teams to stand down. He squatted against the building and studied the 360-degree view of the street. He touched Danielle’s forearm.
“I’ve got a communiqué,” he said. “Relay that to the others. Tell them tostay alert.”
“Yes sir.” Even though Danielle’s blank faceplate showed nothing but thereflection of Simon’s own blank faceplate, tension tightened her voice.
Both of them knew they wouldn’t have been there if they hadn’t gotten tippedoff. And they still didn’t understand the role of the woman who had given themthe information about the captured Templar.
“Acknowledge incoming signal?” the suit AI asked.
The fact that the signal wasn’t simply jammed through spoke volumes to Simon.Either the sender couldn’t take over the suit’s comm array. Or she’s beingpolite, Simon thought.
“Acknowledge,” Simon said.
“Simon,” the feminine voice said.
Simon recognized her voice immediately. It belonged to Leah Creasey, the young woman who had accompanied him, back from South Africa when he’d heardabout the London invasion. As it turned out, she’d been in Cape Town looking forhim. He still wasn’t sure why, or who had sent her, but during the last fouryears of hard-fought battles they’d learned to trust each other. They just didn’t talk about whoshe was with.
Back in London after her arrival there with Simon, she’d temporarily spied onthe Templar Underground, then disappeared when she chose to. He still didn’tknow what that was about either.
Later, when he’d split with the main group of Templar and set out on his ownto rescue those he could that had been stranded in the country, she’d shown upin time to help him pull off that escape by train. He still hadn’t figured outhow she’d managed to know where he was or that he’d needed help against theCabalist with the demon’s hand. He’d only seen her a few times since then, hitand miss encounters that had left him asking even more questions about who she was and what she represented.
But he had learned that he could trust her when it came to survival issues. Sheand whomever she ultimately worked forwanted the demons gone as well.
“Leah,” Simon said. “This is a bad time.”
“It’s about to get worse.”
Simon paused at that. “How do you know?”
“Because you’re walking into a trap.”
Across the street from the front of the Taylor & Loftus building, Leah Creasey lay prone on the roofs edge. She had a cluster rifle snugged up against her shoulder and peered through a sniper scope down onto the street five stories below.
She wasn’t supposed to be there. She knew she was going to be in a world oftrouble if she was found out. But in a world that had
