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his head.

“This bothers you?”

“Of course it does. Christian was a pain in the ass, but she didn’t deserve this.”

“I agree,” Stealth said. “Unfortunately, Smith’s abilities do not leave us many options.”

“I know. I get it, doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He looked at the buildings below them. Light shone up through one of the skylights. “Danielle’s up late.”

“Yes.”

“Honestly,” said St. George, “I’m kind of surprised Smith didn’t have you preprogrammed to kill her or me. Anyone who tried to stop him.”

“He tried,” Stealth said. “Using your own experience with him as a guide, I formed a semantic argument in my mind to keep myself from acting on his commands.”

“How so?”

“Agent Smith ordered me to deal with any potential threats. I knew we were being followed, and had several reasons to believe it was Danielle, but there was no possible scenario where she would pose a potential threat.”

“How could you know that?”

Stealth bowed her head against his chest. The breeze pushed her hood back. “If I was protecting Smith, Danielle would pose no threat at all.”

St. George stared at her for a moment and then laughed.

“Once she had fired the pistol,” Stealth continued, “she was no longer a potential threat, but an actual one. Smith had not ordered me to deal with actual threats.”

He kissed her through the mask. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“This said by a man who is hovering eighty feet above the ground.”

She took one arm away from his neck and slid off her mask. He kissed her again. The wind shifted and wrapped her cloak around them.

IT TOOK CESAR most of the day to find her a drafting board, a tall chair, and a full set of tools. Paper had been harder, but just before sundown he’d appeared with a dozen large sheets rolled into a cylinder. They’d been used on one side, but not much. Just a few simple line drawings and diagrams. He promised to get her more tomorrow.

Danielle hadn’t done any drafting with pencil and paper since her undergrad years. Everything had been CAD and 3-D modeling since then. But her laptop didn’t have any of the right software, and the screen was too small anyway.

She taped down the first sheet and set her straight edge over it. A few quick passes with the pencil gave her a border. A few more passes using the edge and a triangle gave her a title box in the bottom right corner. She filled out her name, the date, and then the project title. It had been a while since she’d had to do the Gothic letters by hand.

CERBERUS MK. 2

Danielle looked at the words for a moment. Then she set her pencil to the paper and began to work.

IT WAS IN the second draft of Ex-Patriots that I came up with a bare-bones idea of how I could bring back Agent John Smith. I almost didn’t use it, to be honest. At the time, Ex-Communication was a sure thing, but it was already pretty full of story with the return of Max and Cairax, not to mention introducing Madelyn as the Corpse Girl. I didn’t want to waste Smith’s reappearance, so I knew there was no way I’d be able to tell that story until at least the fourth book. And I’m enough of a realist to know that nobody should be planning on any books past the ones they’re contracted for.

By the end of the second draft, though, there it was. A set-in-plain-sight clue that Agent Smith and Christian Smith were somehow going to be up to no good together. By the time I sat down to write Ex-Communication, it looked like there was a good chance I might get a fourth book … so I peppered in a few more clues. I have to admit that—as I write this—it’s been two months since that book came out and I’m two-thirds thrilled/one-third disappointed that no one’s noticed them. But I take solace in the fact that you’re probably all going back looking for them now.

Now here we are at book four, with the possibility of a fifth Ex-Heroes story dancing in the road up ahead. And maybe a few clues and hints for that one planted here and there. Maybe some of them set in plain sight …

Needless to say, I couldn’t’ve made it here without help from a few people. So, I offer some very heartfelt thanks to the following folks.

David, my agent, made this book a reality, and made sure I was in a place where I could work on it without pressure or panic. Well, not any more than the usual amount, anyway, when you’re re-launching an entire series with a new publisher.

Julian, my editor at Crown, offered many tips, suggested a few things, caught mistakes, and overall made sure I didn’t fall back on the whole logic-cheat of “it’s all just imaginary.” Or that I had really good reasons when I did. If this book impresses you at all, it’s because he didn’t let me get lazy.

Ilya answered some firearm questions for me. Marcus talked at length one afternoon about military hearings, courts martial, and punishments. Mary helped me with emergency-room procedures and terminology. Any straying from the facts in these areas is my own and not theirs.

John and CD read early drafts in record time when my schedule got tight—they’re both amazing.

And of course, many thanks to my lovely lady, Colleen, who continues to offer advice, to listen when I need to think out loud, and to put up with me while I worry and stress out (again) about how I’m definitely going to screw everything up this time.

—P.C.

Los Angeles, September 7, 2013

ONE

“I just don’t think it’s that good,” said Denise. “It doesn’t do anything for me.”

Becky bit back a smile, even though Denise couldn’t see it over the phone. They’d had this conversation every other week for two months now. It still made for a good distraction, though, and helped

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