Trent swallowed hard. His hands were sweating inside his tactical gloves. He followed Wyatt closely, keeping his gun raised.They walked behind a massive, rusted car-building machine. The machine was the size of a small house. It cast long, terrifying shadows on the wet floor. The rain dripped from the ceiling, splashing loudly in the puddles. Splash. Splash."I don't like this, Wyatt," Trent whispered. "It is too quiet.""Shut up," Wyatt hissed. "Shine your light over there."Trent pointed his flashlight at a pile of broken wooden crates. Nothing was there."There's no one here," Wyatt said, sounding disappointed. "It was probably just the wind knocking a pipe down. Let's go back."Wyatt turned around. He expected Trent to be standing right behind him. But Trent was gone.Wyatt blinked. He looked left. He looked right. "Trent?" Wyatt asked quietly.There was no answer. There had been no scream. There had been no sound of a struggle. Trent had simply vanished into the thin, cold air.

The bright, white lights of the underground military bunker in Washington, D.C., were painful to look at. The room was made of thick, cold steel. It smelled like old coffee and nervous sweat. General Marcus Hayes paced back and forth across the grey floor. His heavy black boots clicked loudly. Click. Clack. Click.Sitting at the center of the metal table was Knox.Knox was a tough, cruel mercenary. He was a man who used to laugh while hurting people. But right now, Knox was not laughing. He was wrapped in a thick, grey wool blanket. He held a small white paper cup of hot coffee in his hands. His hands were shaking so violently that the hot coffee spilled over the edges, burning his fingers. He did not even feel the burns.Knox’s eyes were wide. They stared blankly at the metal wall."Tell me again," General Hayes demanded, stopping his pacing. He leaned over the table, glaring at the shivering mercenary. "Tell me exactly what happened in that factory."Knox swallowed hard. His teeth

Sniper Six stared at his radio. "Command, this is Sniper Six," he whispered urgently. His breath came out in fast, white clouds of fog. "I have lost contact with the entire roof team. None of them are answering the radio.""Sniper Six, this is Ground Command," a harsh voice answered from the radio. "Hold your position. The target has not crossed the barricade. Your team is probably just experiencing radio interference from the storm.""It's not the storm!" Sniper Six argued, his voice rising in panic. "They are gone! Something is up here with me!"Sniper Six turned around. He raised his heavy rifle, pointing it wildly into the dark, rainy shadows of the roof."Show yourself!" the sniper yelled, his finger trembling on the trigger.From the shadows, Jayden stepped into the dim light.Sniper Six gasped. He recognized the grey coat. He recognized the face."Halo!" the sniper screamed. He aimed his rifle directly at Jayden’s chest. "Stop right there! I will shoot!"Jayden did not stop. H

This Executor was different from the normal, sleek grey soldiers. It wore much thicker, heavier armor. The grey armor was bolted with thick plates of dull titanium. It did not carry one silver cylinder. It carried two. It stepped onto the wet asphalt with a heavy, terrifying CLUNK.This was Unit Alpha-7. It was an advanced tactical unit. It had an upgraded computer brain designed to adapt to unpredictable threats. It was directly connected to Director Smith’s command center in Washington.Unit Alpha-7 walked to the front of the barricade. It stood in the pouring rain.Two long, jagged titanium blades slid out of its silver cylinders. The blades buzzed with thick, heavy grey static.The Executor raised its blank, flat grey helmet. It looked up at the dark roofs."Target Jayden Prime," the Executor’s robotic, artificial voice boomed through a loudspeaker on its chest. The voice echoed across the rainy city block. "Your stealth tactics are mathematically inefficient. Surrender immediate