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a street-to-street, room-by-room search. When the main attack comes, we cannot afford any enemies to have secreted themselves behind us. Stay alert.'
    Armoured boots pounding on the ferrocrete, the Chaplain ran down the street, heading to the main throughfare that cut across Cordus Via. He listened to the reports of the squads converging on the lictor's position in warehouse six. The building was already quarantined, each exit covered, but the tyranid creature could well have gone to ground to launch another surprise attack inside. Locating it would be perilous.
    Though he was running fast, Cassius was still scanning every street, alley and building he passed. His eyes flicked across empty windows and shadowed doorways and passed over the roofs and balconies, missing nothing. His ears strained against the thunderous background noise of the cataract, his suit's autosenses doing their best to filter out the blanketing cacophony.
    Cassius stopped suddenly, pulling free his bolt pistol with his left hand. With his right, he slid his crozius arcanum from his belt and pushed the activation stud. The winged skull-shaped head of the weapon shimmered with the red light of its power field as Cassius turned to his right and looked back at an alleyway he had just passed, his intuition telling him something was wrong. Examining the alleyway more closely, his gaze fell upon that which had sparked his subconscious: a line of darker patches leading across the alley to an external ladder that ran up the side of one of the warehouses. Magnifying his vision, the Chaplain's suspicions were proven correct. The dark patches were splashes of liquid.
    One of the river banks was located less than fifty metres away from where he stood. None of his Space Marines had been into the water, so something else must have crossed the river, leaving the trail of drips in its wake.
    'This is Cassius,' he said over the comm. His eyes roved over the facade of the warehouse, finding the identifying plate next to the wide doors. 'Possible sighting, warehouse three.'
    'Squad Dacia will be with you in two minutes, Brother-Chaplain,' came the first reply.
    'Negative, sergeant,' replied the Chaplain. 'Continue to sweep the north sector. I will call for assistance if required.'
    Rather than follow the infiltrator up the ladder, where it might be lying in wait on the roof, Cassius entered the warehouse through a side door. It was dim inside, the open space lit only by a few narrow windows at ground level. Activating his thermal view, the Chaplain looked left and right, seeking any anomalous heat signatures. The warehouse floor was almost empty, only a few empty crates stacked along one wall. Metal steps ran up to the upper storey, ten metres above his head, where the clerks' offices would be located.
    Still checking the shadows as he advanced, Cassius crossed the freight floor towards the stairway. He was aware of the loud thudding of his boots on the ferrocrete, but there was nothing he could do about that. Reaching the bottom of the steps, the Chaplain holstered his pistol and drew out a frag grenade from his belt.
    'Ground floor clear,' he told his warriors. 'Continuing to upper level.'
    Thumb poised over the primer rune of the grenade, he ascended quickly, taking the steps three at a time, the cavernous warehouse ringing with his heavy tread.
    He stopped just a few steps from the top and tossed the grenade ahead, suspecting that the lictor might be poised to attack as he emerged from below. Two seconds later, the warehouse echoed again with the crack of its detonation, shrapnel clattering against the walls and floor, the top of the stairs illuminated by the flash of the blast.
    Hurling himself up the last few steps, Cassius came out onto the upper floor with bolt pistol readied again, the glow of his crozius bouncing back from thin walls peppered with grenade shrapnel. Spinning on his heel, he checked the passageway behind him but saw nothing in the gloom. By the gleam