Viktor Kane stood in what used to be a mothballed military warehouse, watching technicians install equipment that belonged in science fiction movies.
The facility stretched for three acres under reinforced concrete and steel, located forty miles outside Seattle in terrain that hadn't appeared on civilian maps since 1987. Officially, this place didn't exist. Unofficially, it had just become the command center for the most comprehensive supernatural warfare operation in human history.
"Sir?" Captain Rodriguez approached with the kind of crisp efficiency that came from twenty years in special operations. "Final inventory reports are ready for your review."
Viktor accepted the tablet without taking his eyes off the main floor, where teams in hazmat suits were calibrating devices that looked like they'd been designed by someone who understood physics at a level most humans never achieved.
