THOOM! THOOM!​The heavy thud of naval mortar fire vibrated right through the soles of Nathan’s boots. Out on the dark, foggy horizon, the silhouetted shapes of Harris’s armored assault boats were cutting through the waves, their mounted machine guns spitting endless lines of red tracer rounds toward the island.​Up on the cliffs, the newly activated flak cannons were roaring, tearing the sky apart, but they were tracking high, built to shred gunships, not the low-profile hull plating of landing crafts.​"They’re hitting the shingle! Brace yourselves!" Kapten Jaka roared over the deafening noise, crouching behind a barricade of rusted steel plates and sandbags. He racked the bolt of his rifle, his knuckles turning white. "Liana! Those boats are dropping their ramps in thirty seconds! If they get a foothold on this beach, we are completely screwed!"​Inside the command bunker, Liana’s voice cut through the static of the radio, cold and sharp. "Jaka, hold your damn fir

​"Keep your cool, kid," Liana murmured, barely moving her lips. "Vera isn't like Harris. She doesn't want to kill us. She just wants to bleed us dry for profit."​"Relax, Boss. I'm just here for the free snacks," Nathan joked softly, though his amber eyes were sharp, scanning the positioning of the guards and the hidden tripwires along the deck.​The glass doors slid open, revealing an opulent, dimly lit lounge that smelled of expensive tobacco and leather. Sitting behind a sleek mahogany desk was Madam Vera. She looked immaculate, wearing a sharp tailored suit, her silver-streaked hair tied back, casually sipping a glass of wine. Behind her stood a hulking bodyguard holding a suppressed submachine gun.​"Ah, the heroes of the hour," Vera said, her voice smooth like silk but cold as ice. She gestured toward two plush leather chairs across from her. "Please, sit. I must say, the satellite footage of your little beach party yesterday was absolutely exquisite, Nathan.

​"We got lucky with that spy, but luck doesn't last in a place like this," Liana said, looking at the team. "The moment Harris pieces together that his transmission was corrupted, he’s gonna find another way to tip off Vera. If Vera realizes we lied about Nathan's blood degrading, she’ll turn this island into a graveyard."​Nathan caught the apple and took a bite. "So, what's the play, Boss? We can't exactly fight both of them at the same time."​"We don't fight them," Liana said, a dangerous spark in her eye. "We make them fight each other. Giselle, is the secure line to Vera's yacht still open?"​Giselle scrambled at her keyboard, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "Oh, it's open, and I just prepped the juiciest piece of bait you could ask for. I forged a high-tier Sektor Utara military order. On paper, it looks like Harris is moving three destroyer class gunships to intercept Vera’s supply fleet at the eastern border. The reason? Treason against the state."

​"Yo, watch it! That's my kid's ration!" a harsh voice shouted from the front of the food line.​A burly man from the original refugee group was gripping the wrist of a younger, gaunt newcomer who was trying to reach for an extra piece of bread. "You mainlanders just roll in here and expect us to feed you out of our pockets? We've been rationing for weeks!"​"Let go of me, man!" the younger guy hissed, trying to pull away. "My family hasn't eaten a real meal in three days! We're all in the same boat here!"​Within seconds, three more men from both sides stepped in, shoving each other as metal trays clattered violently onto the floor. The tension in the room skyrocketed, the air thick with desperation and short tempers.​BANG!​A deafening shotgun blast blew a hole right into the concrete ceiling, raining plaster dust down onto the crowd.​The mess hall went dead silent. Everyone froze, turning their heads toward the entrance. Liana stood there, her smoking sh

​"We can't use the heavy mortars Madam Vera gave us. Not like this," Kapten Jaka said, slamming his empty mug onto the table and pointing a thick finger at the map. "Harris is smart. He’s placing those three civilian barges right at the front of his formation. If we open fire with the heavy ordnance to stop his warships, we’ll be shredding thousands of innocent people before we even touch a single Sektor Utara soldier."​Liana leaned over the table, her face half-hidden by a cloud of cigarette smoke. Her eyes were fixed on the narrow strait separating the island from the mainland. "So we don't shoot. Not until we separate the sheep from the wolves. Giselle, what do we have in the tech locker?"​Giselle looked up from her monitors, rubbing her dark, sleep-deprived eyes. "Okay, so I’ve been cooking something up with those smart-mines Vera delivered. They have advanced acoustic and magnetic sensors. I can program them to ignore the unpowered, drifting hulls of the civilian barg