“What the hell...?” Brewster began. Several hundred yards ahead of them, they could clearly see dark smoke billowing from the single-story structure where Cerberus had set up its temporary home. The smoke was thick and black, and orange tongues of flame danced within the plume that reached into the sky. There were gunshots, too, and shouting, all of it echoing out across the lawn, mingling with the repetitive shush-shushing sound of the ocean washing against the cliff to their left. “We must do something,” Kudo announced in a firm, no-nonsense tone. Brewster eyed the man for a moment. His face was red, the skin damaged along his left jowl as if attacked with eczema. His body hung heavy, his movements weary as he carried the pale-skinned figure of Domi in his arms. He was exhausted, Brewster could tell. “You’re in no condition to fight,” Brewster warned. Kudo looked at him, his face a mask of contempt.
