[Liverpool Docks]The abandoned warehouse was dark against the pre-dawn sky. Thermal imaging revealed eight heat signatures inside, corresponding to hostages, and twelve signatures moving around them, indicating guards.Achilles crouched behind a shipping container with the Faithfuls, studying the tactical display on Dora Beauty's tablet.“Michael's information was solid,” Brigadier George whispered: “This is one of the locations he marked. Juma's using it as a holding facility.”“For what?” Margaret muttered.“More hostages, people they grabbed from the target list.” Investigator Anthony pulled up files on his phone. “We've had reports of six people missing since yesterday. Witnesses, prosecutors, and even two jury members. This could be where they're holding them.”Achilles zoomed in on the thermal display, “Twelve guards, all armed. They're positioned defensively, expecting trouble.”“Do we wait for backup?” Brigadier

[Liverpool Industrial District]The second warehouse was bigger than the first. Three stories, multiple rooms, dozens of places to hide explosives or hostages.Thermal scans showed fifteen heat signatures on the second floor. Either more hostages or a trap.“We go in fast,” Achilles ordered. “Same formation; George and Scott, take the west stairs. Rachael, you're with me on the east. Margaret and Anthony, secure the ground floor. Nobody gets in or out without us knowing.”They breached simultaneously at 5:04 AM. The ground floor was empty, just abandoned equipment and old furniture. But voices echoed from above; shouting, movement.“Second floor,” Achilles said into his radio. “Moving up.”Achilles and Rachael climbed the stairs quickly, weapons ready. At the top, a long corridor stretched ahead. Doors on both sides. The heat signatures were scattered across multiple rooms.“Room by room,” Achilles whispered. “Clear each

[10 Downing Street]The Prime Minister sat at his desk, behind him, the British flag hung perfectly centered. Cameras were positioned, lights adjusted. In ninety seconds, he'd address the nation.Achilles stood in the back of the room with Margaret, watching. They'd spent the day raiding locations, rescuing more hostages, and capturing Juma operatives. But they still hadn't found Ethan, and still hadn't stopped the main attack.The director held up five fingers. Four. Three. Two. One.The red light came on.“Good evening,” the Prime Minister began, his voice steady despite the exhaustion in his eyes: “I'm speaking to you tonight to address a threat against our nation. Over the past week, we've uncovered a terrorist organization operating within Britain; the Juma Archelords.”He paused, letting the name sink in: “This organization, led by enemies of Britain, has carried out multiple attacks. They've kidnapped innocent civilians. M