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Chapter 160: The Gloves Come Off
The news played on a loop in the base common room, a grotesque carnival of tragedy and triumph. The same few seconds of chaos from the summit, the announcement of the president’s assassination, the Equalist leader’s hooded, victorious speech. Kyle stood before the screen, not seeing the images anymore, just feeling the cold, sharp edges of the trap they’d been herded into. “What exactly happened in there?” he muttered, more to himself than anyone. “Who shot first? Was it even the Equalists? Or did West have a trigger man to make them look like victims?” Rush was furiously typing at a terminal, his face illuminated by the frantic scroll of code. “I can’t get a clear picture. The internal CCTV feeds from the main hall were hit with a sophisticated scrambler right before the shooting started. It’s not just damaged; it’s wiped. Whatever happened, someone made sure there’d be no objective record. All we have is the aftermath and his version of events.” He slammed his fist on the
Chapter 159: A Perfect Distraction
The tension in the common room was a taut wire. The world leaders’ summit was the main event on every screen, a circus of forced smiles and hollow platitudes. Kyle paced, a caged tiger. “We need to be there,” he stated, for what felt like the tenth time. “Not watching it. There. Something is going to happen. I can feel it.” Carter nodded, her arms crossed. “The timing is too convenient. The portals go silent, the world explodes into chaos, and now they’re all gathering in one place? It’s a target.” Strawberry, perched on a table, gave a single, solemn nod. “It is a trap.” Johnny threw his hands up. “I’m all for crashing the party, but let’s be real! We have direct orders to stay put. If we break cover, command will have our heads. We’ll be benched for good.” “So we let them have our heads,” Axel countered, sharpening a knife with a rhythmic shhhhk shhhhk. “Better than sitting here while they set off a bomb.” “It’s not about getting caught,” Rush said, not looking up from his
Chapter 158: The Siege Within
The base had become a gilded cage. The high walls and security gates that were meant to keep threats out now served to pen them in. The constant hum of activity was replaced by a stagnant, frustrated silence. The team was grounded, forced to watch the world unravel on screens, their hands tied by political maneuvering and public hysteria. Kyle sat on a bench in a quiet corner of the barracks common area, staring at a wall but seeing nothing. The edited videos, the protests, the hatred directed at him personally it was a constant, grinding pressure. The desire to act, to smash something, to confront Derek West cause he knows somehow it's connected to him..and tear the mask off the whole operation, was a physical ache. A soft presence beside him broke his reverie. Carter sat down, not too close, but near enough to be a comfort. “You’re being awfully quiet,” she said, her voice gentle. Kyle let out a long, slow breath. “What is there to say? We’re sitting here while they
Chapter 157: The Web of Lies
The van was silent on the way back from the hospital. The girl’s parents had been hysterical with gratitude, but their relief was a small comfort against the looming consequences. They had saved one life, but at what cost? The confrontation in General Hernandez’s office was immediate and tense. She stood behind her desk, the live news feeds showing the aftermath of the “riot” at the Grand Theater playing on the screens behind her. “What part of ‘zero scene’ was unclear, Captain?” Her voice was dangerously quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos on the screens. Kyle stood at attention, but his eyes blazed. “With all due respect, General, the ‘scene’ was a public execution of a minor. Were we just supposed to take notes?” “Yes!” she snapped, slamming her hand on the desk. “That was exactly what you were supposed to do! Do you have any idea what you’ve handed them? They have video of a military team, led by a decorated captain, storming a political rally! They will cut, edit, and
Chapter 156: The Crusade
Dusk bled into night as the unmarked van idled in a shadowy alley several blocks from the old Grand Theater. The building, a relic of a more opulent era, was now surrounded by a quiet, purposeful crowd filtering inside. The mood was not one of celebration, but of grim determination. "Final comms check," Carter's voice was calm in their earpieces. "Remember, we are observers only. In and out. General's orders are explicit: identify the leader, do not engage." "Copy that, Mom," Johnny muttered, adjusting the civilian jacket that felt too tight across his shoulders. "Sit quietly, don't make a scene, watch the crazy people chant. Got it." Kyle said nothing, his eyes fixed on the theater's ornate doors. His instincts were screaming that observation was a luxury they wouldn't be afforded tonight. They left the van and melted into the stream of people heading for the entrance. The crowd was a mix of ages and backgrounds, united by the white masks many carried, though few wore them
Chapter 155: Conspiracies theorist
The morning sun did little to burn off the chill that had settled over the city. Johnny and Axel walked through the streets, a deliberate attempt at appearing normal before the night's mission. The goal was simple: grab breakfast, observe the mood on the ground. The reality was a lot more complicated. "Okay, I'm officially declaring this the worst pre mission breakfast ever," Johnny announced, his breath misting in the cool air. "We should be eating something heroic. Steak and eggs. Pancakes stacked to the ceiling. Not... whatever this is." He gestured vaguely at the bustling, slightly grimy street food stalls. "We're blending in, you idiot," Axel retorted, though her eyes were scanning the crowd, noting the tension in people's shoulders, the way they avoided eye contact. "Heroic breakfasts tend to stand out." "Blending in is overrated. I'm a beacon of hope and frosty goodness. I can't be expected to dim my light for the sake of covert ops." Johnny spotted a stall with a pictur
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