Citadel Run

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“I sense danger,” the Empath announced for the benefit of the three other occupants of the green vehicle.

Immediately, the muscular driver of the van-like transport applied the brakes, bringing the SEAL to an abrupt stop in the middle of the road. His brawny hands deftly twisted the steering wheel, angling the vehicle, enabling him to see in both directions without turning in his seat. His penetrating gray eyes scanned their immediate vicinity as he ran his left hand through his thick dark hair. The driver wore green fatigue pants and a black leather vest, and he was armed with a pair of Bowie knives, one strapped to each hip. “Are you certain, Joshua?” he asked the Empath.

Joshua nodded, his long brown hair bobbing on his narrow shoulders, his brown eyes partially closed as he concentrated his mental powers on the emanations he was receiving. He wore a blue shirt and brown pants, the front of the shirt covered by a large Latin cross he wore suspended from around his neck. “I’m positive, Blade. I’m picking up definite hostility, although I am unable to pinpoint the precise source.”

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