The night swallowed them as they moved through the backstreets of Valmara, their footsteps silent against the wet pavement. The air smelled of oil and decay, the scent of a city suffocating under tyranny. Kane led the way, his rifle tight against his chest, scanning every shadow. The armory was only a few blocks away—their first step in tearing Velkan's regime apart.

Ghost took point, her movements fluid as she slid through the darkness like a wraith. She paused at a corner, raising a closed fist. The team froze. Two guards stood outside a metal checkpoint, smoking cigarettes, their rifles slung lazily over their shoulders. Specter had two options: go loud or go silent. Kane didn't hesitate. He tapped Ghost twice on the shoulder.

She moved like a whisper, unslinging her suppressed rifle and lining up her shot. Pfft. Pfft. Two bodies crumpled to the ground, their cigarettes still burning between limp fingers. No alarms. No sound. Just the quiet elimination of obstacles. Kane signaled forward, and the team advanced, dragging the corpses into the shadows before pressing on.

Viper reached the checkpoint door first, pulling a small charge from his pack. "Breaching," he muttered, setting the explosive near the lock. A soft pop followed, and the metal door creaked open. Inside, rows of weapons and crates of ammunition lined the walls. Enough firepower to start a war.

Kane exhaled, gripping his rifle tighter. "Load up. We hit Velkan where it hurts."

Sledge was the first to move, sweeping through the armory with a practiced eye. "We hit the jackpot," he muttered, yanking open a crate filled with armor-piercing rounds and explosives. "Enough C4 here to bring down a building." He grinned, already stuffing detonators into his pack.

Ghost took position by the door, keeping watch as the others worked. Doc grabbed a stack of medical supplies—bandages, morphine, combat stimulants—anything that might keep them alive when the bullets started flying. Viper moved with cold efficiency, securing rifles, suppressors, and radio equipment. Kane, meanwhile, locked onto something more important—a satchel of encrypted intel. He flipped through a few documents, his pulse quickening.

"This isn't just weapons," he muttered, scanning the files. "These are security codes. Patrol schedules. Even locations of Velkan's hidden supply caches." He turned to Viper. "This changes everything. We're not just hitting him—we're cutting his legs out from under him."

Viper took the folder, flipping through the pages. His expression was unreadable, but Kane knew what he was thinking. This wasn't just an arms raid anymore. If they played this right, they could cripple Velkan's military before the war even started.

Then came a noise—the crackle of a radio outside. Ghost tensed. Through the half-open door, Kane heard muffled voices, then the unmistakable clack of boots on pavement. A patrol. And they were heading straight for the armory.

Kane barely had time to signal before the fireteam moved into position. Ghost flattened against the wall beside the door, rifle raised. Sledge crouched behind a stack of crates, hand hovering over his shotgun's trigger. Viper pulled a combat knife from his vest, while Doc eased the safety off his pistol.

Outside, the voices grew louder.

"...check on the armory before rotation."

"You serious? No one's stupid enough to hit this place."

A sharp beep—the keycard scanner activating. They were coming in. Kane raised his silencer-equipped carbine, his breathing slow, steady. Five hostiles, maybe more. They had seconds to act.

The door slid open, and the first soldier barely had time to register Kane before a single suppressed shot took him in the throat. He crumpled, hands grasping at the wound. The second turned in alarm, only to be yanked inside by Viper, his knife flashing as he drove it into the man's side, twisting before lowering him to the floor.

The third guard managed to pull his rifle up—too late. Ghost fired once, the round punching through his skull with surgical precision. The last two hesitated, their training conflicting with raw survival instinct. Kane didn't give them a chance to decide. He squeezed the trigger twice. One shot to the chest, another to the head. Silence.

Five bodies, five seconds. No alarms.

Sledge let out a breath. "That could've been messy."

Kane knelt, checking the bodies. "It still might be. If these guys don't check in, they'll send more." He turned to Viper. "How long before someone notices?"

Viper wiped the blood off his knife. "Fifteen minutes. Maybe less."

Kane nodded. That was all the time they had to get what they needed and disappear.

Kane moved quickly, pulling a radio from one of the dead guards and tossing it to Viper. "See if you can jam their comms. Buy us some time."

Viper caught it mid-air and got to work, prying open the casing with his knife. "I can loop their last check-in. Might give us a few extra minutes before they realize something's wrong."

Meanwhile, Ghost was already searching the bodies for anything useful. She pulled a small holo-key from the patrol leader's belt and handed it to Kane. "This might get us into something important."

Kane turned it over in his palm. "We'll find out later. Right now, we move." He looked around the armory, making sure no loose rounds or equipment would tip off the next patrol. "Sledge, rig a distraction—nothing big. Just enough to make them look the wrong way."

Sledge grinned, pulling a timed charge from his pack. "You had me at 'distraction.'" He set the device behind a stack of fuel drums, setting a three-minute delay. When it went off, it wouldn't level the building, but it would send every nearby patrol running in the opposite direction.

Doc slung a satchel of medical supplies over his shoulder. "We're loaded up. Let's ghost."

Kane took one last glance at the bodies. He wasn't proud of the kills, but he didn't regret them either. War didn't allow for hesitation.

Then, without another word, the fireteam slipped back into the night—shadows moving against the dying city.