Chapter 101 - 101: The Recruitment Pipeline

Kian Voss led his crew back to the surface ventilation shaft. They unburied the hidden PDF truck from its camouflage of branches and roared back toward the Secessionist warren.

The Voss contingent looked like a specialized kill-team: full carapace plate, tactical helmets, and military-grade rifles. Kian hadn't forgotten the look Arum had given him. In the 41st Millennium, a grudge was more dangerous than a virus; Arum was likely spending every waking hour plotting a way to slit Kian's throat.

Kian didn't drive on the roads. He slammed the heavy truck into gear and tore across the fallow fields and dirt ridges, the throttle pinned to the floor. The crew in the back were tossed around like loose brass, nearly losing their stomachs to the vibration. Kian didn't care. High speed in the open was the only defense against hidden snipers and roadside IEDs.

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