Now.From his perch, Kenzo dropped the first target—one of Ortega’s lieutenants—before the man could even reach for his weapon. The body crumpled to the pavement, and chaos followed.Clara ducked behind a shipping crate as bullets whizzed past, splintering wood and ricocheting off metal. Brown had already moved, his pistol barking as he fired off precise shots. Ortega’s men scrambled for cover, shouting orders in Spanish.But they were outmaneuvered.Brown’s men emerged from the shadows, cutting off escape routes. The trap had been set, and now it was closing.Clara tapped her earpiece. “Kenzo, how many are left?”Kenzo’s voice came through, steady despite the gunfight. “At least ten, but Ortega’s making a run for it. Black SUV, west exit.”Brown swore. “We can’t let him leave.”Clara didn’t hesitate. She bolted toward a parked motorcycle, yanking a gun from her thigh holster as she swung a leg over the seat. “I’ll get him.”“Not alone, you won’t.” Brown was already moving, hot on her

The next day, the calm morning at the villa was soon broken when Cleo, the beautiful and loyal young lieutenant, approached with a worried look on her face. She walked slowly, her eyes filled with concern. As Brown’s personal assistant, Cleo was accustomed to tense situations, but this time, it was clear that something was different.“My lord,” Cleo’s voice was careful, respectful. “There is bad news from the border.”Brown, who had been sitting on the villa’s terrace, enjoying the view of the sea, immediately turned his gaze to her, his expression serious. Cleo’s tense demeanor was enough to tell him that this was not going to be a trivial report.“What happened?” Brown’s voice was low, alert, showing he was prepared for bad news.Cleo took a deep breath before continuing. “A military officer went missing after the ministry banquet last night. We haven’t been able to track his whereabouts, and there’s no clear explanation for what happened. We’re afraid this might be bigger than it s

The air was thick with anticipation as Brown’s men moved through the borderland. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving only the dying embers of daylight to cast eerie shadows across the barren terrain. Every step forward felt like an inch deeper into the unknown, a battlefield waiting to reveal its hidden dangers.Brown’s grip tightened around the hilt of his sword, his instincts honed by years of war screaming at him that something was amiss. The notebook in his hand, though small, carried weight far beyond its physical form. It was a key—a puzzle piece that hinted at a conspiracy lurking beneath the surface. And conspiracies, he knew all too well, were rarely isolated incidents.Cleo walked beside him, her expression a mask of focus. Despite her composed exterior, Brown could see the tension in her shoulders. She knew the stakes just as well as he did. Whatever was unfolding here was bigger than a single missing officer. The implications could shake the foundations of the ki

Cleo’s horse thundered through the night, hooves pounding the earth with unrelenting urgency. The riders behind her struggled to keep up with her relentless pace. She hadn’t looked back since leaving the border camp—because looking back meant hesitation, and hesitation in times like these could cost lives. Her fingers gripped the reins tighter, the worn leather creaking under pressure.The notebook clutched tightly to her chest felt like a weight far greater than its size. Whatever secrets it held, they had already drawn blood.By the time she reached headquarters, dawn was only a thin gold line on the horizon. She dismounted without waiting for assistance, ignoring the pain in her legs and the dryness in her throat. She marched straight to the intelligence wing."Get me the codebreakers," she barked to the sentry on duty. "Now."Within minutes, the stone chamber filled with scholars and military cryptographers. Cleo slammed the notebook onto the table. "I want this decrypted in twent

The war was over.Smoke still rose from broken buildings, but the rightful banner once again waved proudly over the capital. The traitors had fallen. The gates had been reclaimed. And by nightfall, the screams of battle had faded into a heavy, eerie silence.General Brown stood on the city wall, overlooking what remained of the battlefield. His armor was scratched and stained, his body sore—but the mission was complete. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, now sheathed, as though even the blade itself was weary.“Sir,” Kael called out, his voice raspy. “The last traitor stronghold has surrendered. The city is ours.”Brown gave a short nod. “Good. Lock down the square. No celebrations tonight. We’ve lost too many to cheer.”But in his heart, he longed for one thing only.Home.---It was almost midnight when Brown finally returned to his home at the far end of the city. The soldiers at the gate straightened at his presence, but said nothing. They knew he didn’t need a hero’s welco