"No more."  Jared stared at the men.  A moment ago, they had been too eager, and that would have left them vulnerable.  "Three more of our own, dead last night.  David Turner, the man who taught all of you how to actually shoot a gun, murdered before that.”  He pointed down the street, to the empty warehouse two blocks away.  It was midday.  The men had taken too long to call together, but the street was still quiet.  That would make getting in harder, but getting out easier, at least if they were quick.  "No more."

He could see the five men's eagerness change.  Each one became more sober, more obviously aware of the danger and the importance of their job.  They would kill the man.  No more of their own would die.

Jared turned to Mike Simmons.  Not needing a word or a nod, Mike faced the other four.  "We stay as a team, side by side as we sweep.  If we need to divide up, stay with your partner.  Don't call a room clear unless you're absolutely sure.  If you spot him, call out.  We converge and go after him together."  He pointed at the two with the automatics rifles.  "Jared says he's fast and hard to hit.  You two pin him into a corner, and those of us with shotguns will take over.  We don't leave anything identifiable behind.  Present."

Without any military ceremony, the men showed him their weapons for inspection.  Jared smiled at them and pulled out his handgun, showed the bullet in the chamber to Simmons.  He could see the men smile and nod at each other.  He was sure they weren't used to a leader who would fight alongside them.  They had all come from different organizations before joining Jared.  His focus on action instead of political posturing had pulled them to his cause.  His willingness to face danger kept them there.

But Simmons stopped them, and him.  "No, sir.  You should leave the area, just in case the police come." 

Jared shook his head.

Simmons took Jared's gun.  "This is our job." 

The men moved to stand behind Simmons and Jared felt his throat tighten at the display.  They wanted to protect him.  He knew Simmons was right.  He had responsibilities.  Any risk he took was not just his.  But that didn't matter.  He'd seen David die.  He held the guilt of not trying to save his friend.  He shook his head.

Simmons pointed the gun down.  "I could shoot you in the foot, get you to stay that way."

The men chuckled for a moment, but Jared didn't laugh.  He saw Simmons was serious, knew the safety was off.  "It's my responsibility."

"And our job.  We'll be back out in a few."  Simmons kept the handgun and led the four men to the warehouse.

 *

It felt like an electric shock, one of the few therapies he hadn't had at the hospital.  His heart beat fast in his chest as he woke.  The fog was already strong around him.

Get up.  The Hunter crouched by William's pile of tarps, eyes fixed on the wall. 

William looked.  There must be something outside.  Police?  He watched The Hunter's eyes scan across the wall.  Whatever was outside was close, moving toward the door.

Move.

The Advisor followed the movement outside as William stood.  Who did the voices mean?  The detective?  The voices had pushed him toward that man.  Was it the smaller one, who had been outside Jessica's apartment?  He heard a rattle at the closest door, then again further down the wall.  There were at least two men outside.  How many more?  They are breaking in.

Then he remembered.  The man in the truck.  How long ago was that?  He could barely remember with the fog pressing into him.  Last night?  Two nights ago?

The voices had said that he needed to get this man's attention.  Did they want the man sending people to kill him?  What were the voices pulling him into?  Pain seeped back into his body and William started to shrink back down to the tarps.

The Hunter pulled away from the wall, pointed to the rooms at the back and ran.  Go.

William followed.

 *

Jared circled around the side of the warehouse, away from the entrances.  He hadn't come close last night, hadn't wanted to alert the man that he knew about the hiding place, but he had seen a fire escape on the far side.

He reached it and climbed to the roof.  He hurried to the first skylight, rubbed a hand through the dirt on the curved plastic.  He squinted in, but saw only garbage scattered on the concrete floor.  He jogged to the next window, cleaned it and looked down again.

The room was filled with heavy shelving that tilted shadows across the floor.  He saw his men.  Simmons was behind the other four at the entrance to the room.  A motion from him and the men split into two groups to search the aisles between the shelves.  Jared looked past them, couldn't see their target anywhere in the room.

Then he saw Simmons turn.  "Here."  The voice was quiet through the window and distance.  The team to Simmons' right ran to his side and he directed them down an aisle next to the other team. He watched Simmons stay back, check both aisles.

There was a short burp of gunfire from one of the automatics, still loud to Jared on the roof.  From where he was, Jared couldn't see the muzzle flash, but its light gave him a brief glimpse of the man they were hunting.  Jared kept his eyes fixed as the man swung up into the nearest metal shelf and slid through it into the next aisle.

He risked a look back as Simmons shouted.  "One back to me!  Two cover!"

Another flash and burst of noise.  Simmons had them forcing the man out of the aisles, away from the shelves into the open section of the room, where they could corner him.  Jared smiled.  These men, the cleaners, were his best problem solvers.  This team of men had been trained to deal with the stragglers, those who wouldn't leave their homes or businesses when the smarter ones did.  They were the ones to finish the cleansing, the ones who would leave the city white.  They would be the model for how the movement would spread.

The first team ran back the way they had come to Simmons, and he pointed them down the closest aisle as the man with the assault rifle in team two sent another burst through the shelves.  "Two!  Back!"

Jared watched the teams follow the orders Simmons called out.  They quickly forced the target past the last row of shelves and grouped together at the open side of the room.

The five men stopped.  The area was empty.

Jared watched Simmons scan the area, shotgun at his shoulder, then send one man back into the last aisle.  No sound of reply made it through the skylight and Jared looked further down the aisle.  Had Simmons seen the man go back in the aisle and sent one cleaner to flush him back out?  Jared searched the room from above.

For a moment he saw nothing.  Then, at the far end of the room, the man they were hunting for climbed to the top of the shelving and crawled along it toward Simmons and the men.

He watched them close together, wished he hadn't turned his gun over to Simmons.  His fingers grasped around the edge of the skylight, but there was no latch, no way to lift it.  As the man who had killed David drew even with the others, all Jared could do was pound on the window.  He saw Simmons and the others look up, guns raised.  "Above you!"  Jared shouted.

Then the man dropped down, onto Simmons' back.  The shotgun, already raised, angled up further as the man jerked Simmons' neck backward.  Jared jumped back from the upturned muzzle and rolled on the roof as the skylight shattered from the shotgun's blast.

He laid there and immediately heard more gunfire.  First, the automatics, switched to full, then the boom of the shotguns.  Slowly, he crawled back to the opening in the roof.  He set his hands on the edge, mindful of the broken plastic.

The shooting stopped.

Jared thought of calling out, worried that one of his men might shoot up at him without thinking.  But he knew they were better trained than that.  They knew from his warning that he was on the roof, and if they were still hunting the man, he didn't want to distract them.

He inched his head over the edge of the broken skylight, looked down.

The man stood below, looking up at him.