Page 1 of Specter Bred

Prologue: Nolan "Grizzly" Graves

It was ungodly hot, and we still had another three miles to go before we reached the target. Even at night, the desert refused to cool down. The sun had spent the day baking the landscape, driving heat deep beneath the sand. Now, under the cover of darkness, it rose back to the surface, seeping through the soles of our boots and settling into our bones.

Sometimes I swore the Helix lands knew we weren't supposed to be here.

As if the desert itself were trying to kill us.

Dangers lurked everywhere.

Scorching temperatures rose. The treacherous terrain was filled with rattlesnakes tucked beneath rocks and brush, waiting for a careless step. Militant groups hid in makeshift camps throughout the desert, always looking for an easy ambush. Mines lay buried beneath the sand, relics from wars long past, back before the world changed, before designations and before mutation reshaped humanity into something new.

The Helix lands had broken plenty of soldiers.

Just not Specters. Arca bred us for this.

My team moved through the darkness behind me without a single complaint. No hesitation. No rest required.

Five special operators. Five highly trained Specters.

We covered ground that should have taken twice as long, crossed terrain that left conventional units stranded, and completed missions no one else was willing to touch.

When it came to Specters, Command wasn’t impressed with the impossible; they expected it.

That was why we existed.

To go where no one else could and to do what no one else would.

A rattlesnake slithered across the trail ahead, disappearing into the brush. No one glanced twice. We had bigger things to worry about.

"Grizzly, we're two clicks out."

I nodded. "Copy that, Reaper. Get eyes on the target."

He dropped into a crouch and unzipped his pack. His hands moved with practiced efficiency as he assembled a drone. It was tiny, silent, cutting-edge Arcan tech.

Within seconds, its rotors spun to life, and the drone rose to eye level, hovering steadily before Reaper sent it forward into the darkness.

We took advantage of our brief pause and hydrated while checking our gear as he guided the drone toward the compound. We waited in silence while the feed streamed back to his tablet.

"Drone's over the target," Reaper said.

I secured my canteen and stepped beside him, studying the feed.

"Seven heat signatures outside," he reported. "Can't get a count on the interior. Helix is running thermal deflectors across the roof."

"Intel said no more than twenty hostiles," Razor said with a snort.

Twenty armed militants should have been a problem. It wasn't, at least not for us. A single Specter was worth fifteen soldiers. Hell, fifteen competent soldiers. And there were five of us on that ridge.

The odds weren't in Councilor Voss's favor.

Councilor Warren Voss was one of the shadowy figures who sat on Arca's governing board. A member of the invisible, yet notorious, Command. He was the type of man most citizens had never heard of and wouldn't recognize if they passed him on the street. But he was powerful nonetheless.

Or at least he used to be.

Voss had gotten himself into trouble. More than trouble.

Undercover audits uncovered millions in missing government funds. The trail led back to Voss's luxury estates scattered across several Arca territories, expensive gifts, secret accounts, and a revolving door of mistresses funded by taxpayer credits.