Scout X Tracer Novels & Stories

I closed the distance in four silent, blinding strides, coming up behind the scout just as he raised his gloved hand to plant a magnetic beacon on the cabin’s secondary junction box. I dropped my rifle onto its sling, lunged forward, and wrapped my broad forearm around his throat in a sleeper grip, driving my tactical blade straight through the soft tissue beneath his shoulder blade, severing the nerve cluster before he could even draw a breath to scream. The scout went limp instantly in my grip, his weapon dropping silently into the deep powder. I dragged his heavy frame into the thick underbrush beneath a fallen pine tree, stripping his tactical belt to check his radio frequency. The radio

“Like a present.” “Viking?” Zoe paused next to his work area, and he looked up from the butterfly tat that he was inking on a woman’s lower back, his red hair as wild as ever. “Can you listen for Keira? She’s sleeping, and I think she’s out for at least two hours, but can you just stay alert? I’ll be back in a few minutes.” “Two minutes,” Scars corrected her. “Scout’s Honor.” “You were a Boy Scout?” Zoe asked him skeptically. “Tidy little uniform and badges and making fire by rubbing two sticks together ?”

“Knew they’d leave her behind—overconfident little bastards.” I turned to the truck behind me. Inside, a dozen of my finest hunters prepped silently. Suits embedded with scent-diffusing tech, infrared scopes, silencers, and suppressors. Gases strong enough to knock out even an Alpha. Bullets fused with wolfsbane. I even brought something new. I flicked my cigar to the ground, grinding it under my heel. “Okay boys,” I grinned wide, eyes glowing slightly, “Launch the emitters. Drop the suppression field. And… let’s crash the party.”

The Scourge models were thrown backward, their ragdoll animations twisting violently. Ren forced his breathing to slow. He centered his crosshairs on a heavily armored Scourge Brute leading the charge. It's a man, a tiny voice screamed in Ren's mind. It's a man trying to feed his family. Ren pulled the trigger anyway. The sabot round vaporized the Brute's head. One down. "Jinx!" Leo yelled over the deafening gunfire. "They're flanking the left side! Drop a cryo-trap on the pedestrian walkway to slow their pathing!"

"They'll send a small scout squad through the needle to draw our attention, then hit us from the timber with their main iron." "Brilliant," Tristan purred, his fingers tightening just a fraction against my hip, his thumb tracing a slow, deliberate circle through the wet fabric of my tactical pants. "So we rig the lower timber with our heavy shaped charges, and leave just enough shock-mines in the needle pass to crush their distraction." I turned my head to look at him, intending to confirm the plan, but my words caught in my throat.

"Thanks, Mom." Xander. Xander looked out at the horizon from the perimeter of the packhouse grounds. He had offered to head the scouting team, determined to show his allegiance and commitment to the group. He was deeply affected by recent happenins, yet more determined than before to safeguard his family. "Keep your senses sharp," he told the scouts. We must be aware of all the actions taken by the rogues. Inform me right away if you notice anything out of the ordinary.

“It could be yeah. You can’t be tracked when you have that oil on. It covers your scent for up to 48 hours depending on dosage. It would explain why we can’t catch a scent at all.” “Their skill level is extensive. We weren’t able to pick up a physical trail either. That is a level of skill I’m not used to seeing.” Adam spoke, the leader of Kane’s Hunters. I looked at him and raised an eyebrow, wondering if another Scout group had that skill level. “Could other Scouts have that skill level? I know my Scouts had no hand in this, but Anders has Scouts.” I offer. Aramis snorts and shakes his head. “No way. Anders’s Scouts are decent but nowhere near enough to evade me. Nor are they better than y

he explained. My eyes caught sight of Leone, the current Delta, briefing the shifted wolves. They were probably tracers. Tracers had a more heightened smell than regular wolves, and they could track anything, even scents that had been masked with magic. Luna Leonora told the mother to get her son’s shirt so the tracers could use it to trace the child, and she ran towards the pack.

**<< Could be key… Antidote research… Reverse engineering… Need its genetic profile… Without it… fighting blind… >>** The burden of the vial grew heavier. Destroying it eliminated one weapon but sacrificed potential salvation. Keeping it made them a target and risked it falling back into enemy hands. Before they could debate, Winters stiffened. He pulled a compact scanner from his pack – different from the thermal imager. It emitted a low, urgent beep. His expression, usually impassive, tightened almost imperceptibly. **<< Signal trace. Short-range. Directional. >>** He moved swiftly to the clinic’s grimy window, peering out into the rain-lashed darkness. **<< Triangulating… source: perimete

I instructed Isaac, and he gave me a nod before leaving the office. Tracers were very rare, especially the ones born as one. They had the ability to identify even the tiniest scent that a normal wolf would miss. We have very few born tracers, but we've managed to train some others as well. It was a difficult and nearly impossible task, but we managed. “Double the security on the borders, the town and the pack house. Let everyone know, battle training begins again but nothing intense.”