Tedmond let out a dry, small chuckle, a sound that softened the edges of his grim face, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I’ll be fine, Thomas. It was just a thought.""It was a stupid thought!" Thomas barked, jabbing a finger at him. "You listen to me, Tedmond. You go to Oakhaven, you find your mother, and you bring your narrow-minded, road-tripping self back here. Because when you do, I’m going to lecture you—seriously. I’ve got a list of every reason why you’re a tactical moron, and I’m reading it aloud."Tedmond gave a single, sharp nod, a silent promise. "I’ll look forward to it."He slid the door shut, the van rumbling forward into the gray rain, leaving Thomas standing in the garage with clenched fists and a storm of worry behind his eyes."You heard the man," Marek rumbled, shifting the van into gear. "He wants to lecture a live man, not a ghost. Let’s move."The tires crunched over wet gravel as the van slid into the thick morning mist. Thomas stayed in the garage lon

The hum of the heavy SUV’s tires against the asphalt was the only constant in a world that had turned gray and blurred. Inside the cabin, the space was cavernous, more like a mobile command center than a civilian vehicle. Despite the looming shadow of Oakhaven, the atmosphere had taken on a bizarrely domestic quality.Lottie hunched over a small, portable induction burner balanced precariously on a storage crate. She stirred a pot of instant noodles with mismatched chopsticks, brow furrowed in concentration as the steam curled around her face."You know," Lottie said, voice competing with the rattle of the road, "I can’t stop thinking about Hugo. We just left him there with Thomas and Albert. Do you think he’s shaking in his boots, or already trying to pick the locks on the wine cellar?"Marek, whose massive frame seemed to fill the driver’s seat, kept his eyes locked on the horizon. He adjusted his grip on the leather-wrapped wheel. "Hugo’s like a cockroach, Lottie. Drop a build

The silence beneath the bridge was short-lived. Just as the SUV’s engine settled into a low, submerged hum, a rhythmic sound cut through the gloom.Clack.Clack.Clack.The echoes bounced off the massive concrete pillars."Rappels," Marek hissed, killing the interior lights. "They aren’t waiting for us to come to them. They’re coming down."Through the cracked sunroof, Tedmond saw them: four dark silhouettes descending rapidly on high-speed cables, like spiders dropping from a ceiling. Vanguard’s elite, clad in matte-black tactical gear and gas masks, were almost inhuman in the dim light."Marek, the bank! Get us onto solid ground, or we’re sitting ducks!" Tedmond ordered, reaching for the heavy assault rifle clipped to the ceiling."I’m trying, but the silt is like vacuum-packed grease!" Marek roared, tires spinning and throwing plumes of black river water against the bridge supports.The first Vanguard soldier hit the roof with a bone-jarring thud. A second later, a combat knife

"They’re moving the Anchor," Tedmond hissed. "If that van leaves, we lose the only link to where they’ve hidden my mother."Marek glanced from the van to the gate. "We can’t do both, Boss. Hit the van, we lose the purge inside. Hit the gate, the van disappears into the Syndicate’s black-site network forever."Tedmond stared at the screen, the weight of the Washington legacy pressing down on him. The siren continued to wail, a countdown to a massacre."We aren’t choosing," Tedmond said, eyes burning with terrifying clarity. "Marek, take the heavy rifle. Blow the tires on that van from here. Lottie, follow me. We’re going over the fence."The siren’s wail grew sharper, a jagged strobe of sound marking the final stages of the Oakhaven purge. Below them, the facility churned like a hive of panicked motion."Distance to the transport van: eight hundred yards," Marek whispered, dropping onto one knee and unfolding the bipod of his heavy anti-materiel rifle. The weapon looked more like i

The air in the clearing was thick, not just with the scent of wet pine and drifting smoke, but with a suffocating history. Lottie’s hands, usually steady when survival stripped her bare, began to tremble. It wasn’t the cold. It was the way Sorsha looked at her with that same mocking, older-sister pity that had shadowed Lottie’s entire childhood.Sorsha took a slow, predatory step forward, the muzzle of her sniper rifle unwavering from Tedmond’s chest, yet her eyes never left Lottie."Look at you, Lottie," Sorsha purred, her voice silk over a razor. "Shaking. Covered in mud. Playing soldier for a man who doesn’t even know your middle name. Do you really think this makes you ‘brave’? You’re just a runaway pretending the leash isn’t still there.""Shut up, Sorsha," Lottie hissed, but the crack in her voice betrayed her."I’m the only one who ever looked out for you," Sorsha continued, her amethyst eyes softening into a poisonous, fake warmth. "When you failed the initiation at the Aca