I NEED A HERO (𝓒𝓞𝓜𝓟𝓛𝓔𝓣𝓔)

CHAPTER ONE

Our heroes are people and people are flawed.

Don't let that taint the thing you love.

~~~~~ Randy K. Milholland

"Orr, set your nest in the next rooftop. Connor, circle to the rear. Noonan head left, Cavanaugh go right, I'm center," said the Captain's soft voice. Then the earpiece went silent.

Softly, soundlessly, Nemera Cavanaugh crept to the darkened building and turned right along the wall. She moved swiftly but carefully. A misstep could mean the difference between success and failure or life and death, not only for her, but for her team mates—who were also sneaking through the dark—and the hostages being held within the building. Occasionally she would hear one of the team checking in with Captain Prass. Rounding the corner of the building, her mobile ears pricked at a soft sound and swiveled to determine the direction. Somewhere just ahead and a bit above her position someone was breathing hard.

Nemera sniffed. The smell of fear was strong, but it was liberally mixed with aggression. Not a hostage then, but one of the perps, probably a lookout. Like a shadow she slid along the wall, looking upward. She identified the broken window where the lookout crouched, and passed on until she found another.

"Lookout identified," she said softly into the mike at her lips. "East window, second floor. Do I negate?"

"Roger that," replied her commander.

With a flex of her wrist her claws slid out and she dug them into the joint between the crumbling blocks and began to climb. Reaching the window, she slipped carefully past the bits of broken sash and window glass and found herself in what at one time was an office. The only exit was a door hanging crookedly on its hinges. Her night vision was excellent and it took only a moment for her eyes to adjust.

Like a ghost she moved through the room. A quick peek out the door revealed an empty hallway. In seconds she was out of the room and in the doorway of the next. The perp crouched at the window, scoped  and silenced pistol in hand, watching the street below. A slight stir in the air was the only warning he got before she struck with a hard downward chop to the junction of neck and shoulder. The lookout crumpled to the littered floor and in seconds she had him zip tied and slapped a piece of duct tape across his mouth.

"East lookout is down," she advised softy. "Want me to clear the floor?"

"Roger that," came the soft reply.

Like a waft of smoke she went through the rooms, taking out two more lookouts before she arrived back where she began.

"Floor is clear," she reported quietly. "Three targets neutralized."

"Roger that," said the Captain. "Can you access the lower floor from there?"

"Affirmative," she replied.

"Set up to enter at my mark," Prass instructed her. "Let me know when you are in  position."

"Roger that." Nemera headed back toward the stairs she had marked in passing. She looked them over carefully, noting the scattered debris and possible loose treads. She froze in place, her only movement a slight twitch in her tail tip.

"Set," she murmured. One by one she heard Orr, Noonan, and Connor check in.

"Orr, can you see the hostages?" asked Captain Prass.

"Affirmative," said the deep, mellow voice of Ranon Orr. "All in the room nearly centered on the south wall. One guard right in front of the door."