The lights died. The room went silent.

Kane could hear the mercenaries shifting in the darkness, boots scuffing against the floor, the faint click of safeties being flipped off. They weren't just trapping him and Doc—they were controlling the battlefield.

The mercenary leader's voice cut through the void like a blade.

"No need for more bloodshed, Specter. We both know how this ends if you keep fighting."

Kane's fingers tightened around his pistol. His instincts screamed to shoot and move, to break through before the enemy could fully recover. But something about this felt off.

They knew who he was.

Specter was a ghost unit, buried under layers of false identities and black ops secrecy. No one outside their handlers should have known their name.

Doc was already moving, shifting subtly in the dark. He was watching Kane, waiting for a signal.

The merc leader stepped closer.

"You came looking for answers," he said smoothly. "I'm offering you some."

Kane weighed his options. A straight fight meant death. But information? That was leverage.

He holstered his pistol. "Talk."

The leader chuckled. "Smart choice."

The emergency backup lights flickered on, casting the room in a dim red glow. Kane got his first good look at the man.

Tall. Athletic build. A sharp, angular face with eyes like cut emeralds. His uniform was pristine, untouched by the chaos around them. Not a soldier. A commander.

The man inclined his head slightly. "I go by Kestrel."

Kane said nothing. He'd never heard the name before.

Kestrel smirked. "You're not the only ones after Velkan."

That caught Kane's attention. He didn't trust the bastard, but if there was another player in the game, they needed to know.

Kestrel continued, stepping over the body of one of his fallen men. "We've been watching your work. The Red Hand, the assassinations, the sabotage... impressive, but reckless." He exhaled. "You don't even know what you're really fighting, do you?"

Kane's expression didn't change. "Enlighten me."

Kestrel smiled. "Velkan isn't the endgame. He's a piece on the board, just like you."

Doc finally spoke. "Then who's moving the pieces?"

Kestrel's gaze flicked to him. "That's what I came here to find out."

Kane exchanged a glance with Doc. If this was a game of chess, Specter had just realized they weren't playing against one opponent.

There were other forces at work.

And they were running out of time to figure out who.

Kane's mind raced, processing Kestrel's words. Velkan wasn't acting alone—there were bigger forces at play.

And this man—this Kestrel—claimed to be after the same truth.

But who the hell was he?

Kane wasn't the kind to take anyone at their word. He kept his voice even. "You talk a big game. But I don't know you. And I sure as hell don't trust you."

Kestrel just smiled. "Then let's fix that."

He motioned to his men, and they lowered their weapons. The tension in the room didn't ease, but at least no one was a trigger pull away from dying.

Kestrel turned slightly, walking toward the dim red glow of the flickering monitors. "You ever hear of 'Black Vulture'?"

Kane's jaw tightened. He had.

A covert PMC unit. Specialists in destabilization, counter-insurgency, and deep-cover operations. Officially, they didn't exist. Unofficially, they'd been linked to proxy wars, high-value extractions, and regime collapses in half a dozen countries.

Doc crossed his arms. "Black Vulture was disbanded."

Kestrel glanced back, his smirk sharp. "That's the official story."

Kane narrowed his eyes. "And you?"

Kestrel shrugged. "Let's just say I was one of their better investments."

The pieces started clicking.

Black Vulture had gone dark years ago—but that didn't mean they were gone. The best operators didn't just vanish. They found new paymasters. New wars.

Doc exhaled. "So who's signing your checks now?"

Kestrel's expression didn't change. "No one."

That made Kane pause. A mercenary without a leash? That was rare. And dangerous.

Kestrel leaned against a rusted filing cabinet, folding his arms. "After Vulture collapsed, most of us scattered. Some sold their skills to the highest bidder. Some vanished. A few of us..." His green eyes darkened. "We kept digging."

Kane didn't miss the shift in his tone.

Kestrel continued. "You want to know the difference between us, Specter?"

Kane didn't answer.

Kestrel smirked. "You're fighting Velkan. I'm fighting the people who built him."

Silence.

Kane's grip on his pistol tightened.

Velkan wasn't just a dictator. He was a product. A tool.

Doc exhaled, his voice measured. "You have proof?"

Kestrel nodded toward the servers. "It's in there. But that's only part of the puzzle." He leaned forward. "You came here looking for enemies. What you'll find is that Velkan is just a symptom. The real disease? It's global."

Kane's mind raced.

Was Kestrel telling the truth? Or was this just another play?

Either way, one thing was clear—they weren't alone in this war.

And whoever was really behind Velkan... they were still out there.

Kane studied Kestrel, searching for any sign of a lie. The bastard was smooth. Too smooth. His words made sense—hell, maybe even too much sense.

But Specter didn't take people at their word.

Doc was the first to break the silence. "Let's say we believe you." His voice was measured, calm. "Why are you telling us this?"

Kestrel smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "Because you're already in the middle of it. Whether you know it or not."

Kane exhaled through his nose, thinking fast. They'd come here for intelligence on Velkan and the Red Hand. Instead, they'd walked into something much bigger.

And the worst part? Kestrel might be right.

Velkan had risen to power too quickly, too efficiently. His forces were better equipped than half the major armies in the region. And now, there was a third player moving in the shadows.

Kestrel pushed off the filing cabinet and walked toward the server rack, tapping a gloved finger against the metal casing. "You came for data, so take it. It's all in here." He glanced at Kane. "You're good at surviving. You'll figure it out eventually."

Kane didn't move. "And what's your play in all this?"

Kestrel's smirk didn't fade. "Let's just say my team and I have unfinished business with Velkan's handlers."

That sent up every red flag in Kane's head. Kestrel was a wildcard. A man with too much knowledge, too much experience, and no visible leash. The kind of operator who could be an asset—or a walking disaster.

Doc shifted beside him. Kane could tell he was thinking the same thing.

Finally, Kane spoke. "We don't work with ghosts."

Kestrel laughed under his breath. "That's funny. Coming from you."

Kane clenched his jaw. He motioned to Doc, and without another word, they moved toward the exit.

Kestrel didn't stop them. He simply watched. Like a man who already knew how this story would end.

As Kane and Doc reached the door, Kestrel called out one last time.

"I'll see you again, Specter. Sooner than you think."

Kane didn't look back.

He already knew it was true.

The alarm blared through the facility, a piercing, metallic shriek that sent adrenaline surging through Kane's veins. Shit.

They weren't out yet.

Red emergency lights flashed against the steel walls as Kane and Doc sprinted through the archive's back corridors. Their window was closing fast.

"How the hell did the alarm trip again?" Doc growled, gripping his suppressed rifle as they ducked into cover.

Kane cursed under his breath. "Kestrel."

That smug bastard had let them go, but he never promised them a clean exit. Kane didn't know if it was a test, a message, or just another power play—but it didn't matter now. They had a fight ahead of them.

The distant clatter of boots grew louder. Velkan's soldiers were moving in fast.

Kane checked his mag. One full, one half. Doc was probably in the same boat.

Not great.

Doc exhaled sharply. "We need an exfil now."

Kane tapped his earpiece. "Viper, talk to me."

A burst of static. Then Viper's voice, sharp and urgent. "Whole damn district is going hot. Roadblocks, patrols, the works. You need to move."

Kane grit his teeth. They were running out of options.

A squad of soldiers rounded the corner, their rifles sweeping through the hall. No time for stealth now.

Kane opened fire first.

Two rounds snapped into the lead soldier's chest—he staggered, dropped. Doc fired a tight burst, cutting down the second.

The third managed to squeeze off a shot before Kane put him down. The bullet grazed his shoulder, a white-hot slash of pain.

More shouts echoed down the corridor. They had to move.

Kane grabbed a smoke grenade from his belt, pulled the pin, and tossed it into the hall.

A thick, gray cloud billowed out, swallowing the corridor.

"Go!" Kane ordered.

They sprinted through the smoke, shadows moving in the haze. Bullets zipped past, punching into the walls.

They burst through the next door—into the open air.

The night sky stretched above them, cold and starless.

Their escape vehicle—a black SUV—was parked in the alley, engine running. Ghost had the driver's seat.

"Move your asses!" she snapped.

No argument there.

Kane and Doc dove into the backseat just as the first burst of gunfire ripped through the alley. Ghost slammed the accelerator, tires screeching as they peeled out onto the darkened streets.

In the mirror, Kane saw dozens of soldiers flooding out of the building behind them.

The whole damn city was on high alert now.

But they had the intel.

Now came the hard part—figuring out what the hell to do with it.

The SUV tore through the empty streets, engine growling as Ghost wrenched the wheel hard, barely missing a rusted-out truck.

Behind them, the city erupted into chaos.

A dozen military jeeps surged onto the road, headlights glaring like predatory eyes. Heavy machine guns rattled to life, spewing bright tracers that carved through the night.

Kane ducked as bullets shredded the back windshield. Glass sprayed into the cabin, cutting his cheek.

"Faster, Ghost!" he shouted.

"I'm working on it!" she snapped back, yanking the wheel into a sharp left.

The SUV drifted hard, tires shrieking as they narrowly avoided an overturned barricade. Behind them, one of the jeeps wasn't so lucky—it slammed into the wreckage, flipping end over end before exploding into a fireball.

But the others kept coming.

Then came the worst part.

A deep, mechanical roar filled the air, growing louder.

Kane looked up—and saw the attack helicopter banking hard above them.

"Shit! We've got a Hind!"

The massive gunship's rotors kicked up a storm of dust, its nose-mounted minigun spinning up with a sinister whine.

"Ghost, we need to lose that thing now!" Kane barked.

"Unless you got a Stinger missile, shut the hell up and let me drive!"

The helicopter opened fire.

A wall of bullets ripped through the street, chewing up pavement as Ghost swerved between parked cars. Sparks flew. Metal twisted.

Doc swore. "We need cover! We're a sitting duck out here!"

Ghost suddenly yanked the wheel right—sending the SUV crashing through a chain-link fence and into a tight industrial lot.

A maze of shipping containers surrounded them.

The attack chopper banked hard, struggling to maneuver.

Kane saw their chance.

"Viper, tell me you've got eyes on us!" he barked into his earpiece.

A second of static, then—"Yeah, and it looks like you pissed off the entire damn army."

"We need an exit, now!"

"There's an overpass three blocks north. If you make it, I can get you out."

Kane looked at Ghost. "You hear that?"

She grinned, all teeth. "Yeah. Hold on."

She slammed the accelerator.

The SUV shot forward, weaving between the towering metal containers. The helicopter's minigun shredded through the steel walls behind them, but Ghost never slowed down.

Then—open road ahead.

The overpass loomed in the distance.

A military roadblock sat between them and freedom.

Jeeps, armored trucks, and a mounted .50 cal turret.

No time to think. No time to stop.

Kane grabbed the grenade launcher from the seat.

"Sledge, get ready to cover us!" Kane barked into comms.

The SUV roared toward the blockade. The turret gunner swiveled toward them—

Kane fired first.

The grenade round hit dead center.

The armored truck exploded, sending fire and debris into the air.

Ghost didn't slow down.

She hit the wreckage at full speed, smashing through the burning debris like a battering ram.

They were through.

The helicopter banked hard, trying to reacquire them—

Then a rocket streaked from the rooftops.

Sledge.

The missile slammed into the Hind's engine, and the gunship erupted in flames, spinning out of control before crashing into the streets below.

Cheers erupted over comms.

Ghost grinned, breathing hard. "Told you I got this."

Kane exhaled, glancing at the burning wreckage behind them.

They were clear—for now.

But something told him this wasn't the last time they'd be running for their lives.