Revenant Protocol

Chapter Two

Flight into Darkness

Pale dawn light filtered through the fractured peaks as Caden Voss and Sophia emerged from the smuggler's tunnel, wincing at the sun. Clothes were torn, dust covered every patch of exposed skin, and every gasp was sandpaper in the lungs. But they did not stop. The folded map in Caden's fingers had one circled area: an ancient military airstrip forty miles west, where a rusted-out C‑130 transport sat, its engines cold but still intact. It was their sole means of escape from Mexico and straight into the lion's den.

They moved with stealthy deliberation. Caden carried the large crate of decrypted gear; Sophia carried the satchel containing the ledger and thumb drive. On top of a dune, Caden halted, gazing out. Two black SUVs made their way along the canyon floor, and overhead, the buzz of a drone cut through the morning stillness. The cartel had sent reinforcements; the government had launched Protocol 002. Their trackers were getting close.

"Dirt bikes," Sophia whispered, nodding. A dozen or so quad bikes sent up dust from a side canyon. "Cartel scouts. They'll come around our flanks."

Caden pressed a hand to her shoulder. “We can’t outrun both. We’ll need a diversion.” He crouched behind a boulder, removed a shaped-charge from his pack, and rigged it to the narrow pass they’d just crossed. “Five seconds,” he counted down, backing away with Sophia in tow. “Four… three… two…” The explosion shook the earth, sending a plume of rock and sand skyward. The quad bikes screeched to a halt, riders thrown from their seats.

"Go!" Caden shouted. They sprinted down the slope, pounding heartbeats, as the cartel scouts hurried to brush aside impediments. The drone overhead rolled to slide in right into the range of Sophia's EMP grenade. She hurled it with impeccable timing. The device hissed once and then spat out a pulse that rattled the drone hopelessly out of kilter before slamming in a distant crater.

Adrenaline flowed through their veins as they advanced. Everything else had shrunk to their boots on cracked earth and the gleam of the airstrip before them. By mid‑morning, they crested the final ridge to find the forgotten runway, its asphalt cracked and pockmarked by desert grasses. In the shade of a half‑collapsed hangar loomed the transport: a huge, camouflaged C‑130 whose faded insignia attested to hundreds of flights long since forgotten.

Caden whistled softly. "Still in the air." He stepped out onto the runway, hands over eyes, as he looked at the plane. "Let's get in before someone else does."

The hangar doors were creaky and heavy, but Sophia and Caden worked together, he pulling on the mechanism while she greased up the gears with oil from a can. With a creak and sprinkle of rust, the doors swung open, the interior revealed like a cavern. Sunlight streamed in, illuminating the transport's massive shape. They crawled in, shutting the doors behind them.

The cargo bay was filled with oil and rust stench. Straps of tie-down rings were strewn on the floor, and in the rear, a ladder led to the cockpit. Caden went up first, flashlight in his hand, scouting for peril. The cockpit was empty, motes of dust danced in the light but controls appeared intact. "She's ours," he shouted, echoes of voice.

Sophia sat next to him, placing a hand on his arm. "First, we secure the drive." She pressed a cluster of keys on the ledger's built-in decryption pad. The tiny screen blazed: coordinates, access codes, schematic diagrams of a subterranean facility in Prague. Below it, a line of text glowed ominously: "REVENANT PROTOCOL: PHASE III – GLOBAL DEPLOYMENT."

Caden gritted his teeth. "They're not cloning soldiers. They're shipping them all over the world." He followed his finger down the list of city destinations: Berlin, Dubai, Tokyo. They each had the sound of a guillotine's blade to them. "We have to stop them."

Sophia nodded, her eyes blazing. "But first, we leave this continent." She thrust the thumb drive at him. "I've extracted everything. We insert this into Ethan's secure server—he'll have a method of bringing down the network."

Caden slipped the drive into his pocket. "Then let's take off."

They descended to the cargo area, gathering up a duffel of gear: rifles, ammunition, medical kits, and a bag of grenades. Caden loaded the satchel on his hip with the gravity of every bullet. Sophia checked the fuel gauges; the C‑130 had enough to get to Europe, if the motors didn't disintegrate. They fastened themselves into their seats and Caden went back to the cockpit, flipping switches and throttling the motors. The turbines groaned, then roared into life, their noise echoing through the hangar like a stirring beast.

Outside, the hangar doors groaned to life. Caden's heart leapt. "They're here," he snarled. Behind the narrow cockpit window, he could see the black-ops soldiers closing in, guns at the ready. At their lead was Protocol 002—tall, imposing, moving with unnatural fluidity.

"Hold on!" Caden put the C‑130's gears into action. The tires screeched as the plane lurched forward, bursting through the hangar doors and speeding out onto the runway. Bullets ricocheted off the body of the aircraft as they picked up speed. Sophia shot out the back of the cargo ramp at soldiers in hot pursuit, then closed the ramp behind her.

The transport lifted off with a roar, the desert shrinking below them. Caden’s knuckles whitened on the yoke. “We’re airborne,” he said, voice tense. “Set a course for Prague.”

Sophia sat beside him, tapping coordinates into the navigation console. “Flight path is clear… for now.” Her eyes flicked to the rear‑view screen: the ramp was sealed, but the cargo hold lights flickered. “Something’s wrong back there.”

Caden’s pulse spiked. “What?”

Sophia gestured to the monitor. "The hold pressure seal. it's cycling. Someone is trying to override it."

Caden didn't have time to react before the alarm klaxon sounded. Red lights filled the cockpit. The pilot's intercom crackled even though there was no pilot. The C‑130 was on autopilot, and they were the only ones in control.

He banged a hand against the console. "We require manual override!"

The yoke jolted in his grip. The autopilot disengaged but the aircraft banked sharply to starboard. Outside the windows, the horizon tipped; clouds rushed past. “We’re off course!” Sophia shouted. “Heading south!”

Caden’s heart pounded. “Someone’s in the flight systems.”

He tugged open the side panel and crawled out onto the wing walk, thousands of feet above the ground. The wind screamed around him, bitter and unrelenting. He crawled to the hinge of the cargo ramp and wedged it open. The ramp swung open into the darkness above.

Below, in the hold, Sophia's beam of light illuminated a hunched figure at the control console: the Revenant. His cybernetic eye glowed red as he worked on an modified flight computer. Caden screamed out, drawing his pistol and firing a single shot. The Revenant's shoulder absorbed the impact, but his movements never slowed, he barely even broke stride.

Sophia advanced, letting her rifle slide into his back. "Stop!" she screamed, the words lost on the wind. The Revenant turned, and for a moment, Caden saw his own face twisted, empty, unrepentant.

He broke out of his firing rhythm once more, but the Revenant swatted his hand away and kicked at the console, spewing sparks around the hold. The lights flickered out, plunging them into darkness. Hydraulic doors closed over the cargo ramp.

"Caden!" Sophia shouted. "Get back here!"

He sprinted across the wing, his heart lodged in his throat. The ramp slammed shut behind him, severing him in mid-stride just as he reached it, shoving him backward.

Sophia pounded on the metal door, her eyes shining with tears.

"Hold on!" Caden screamed, pulling the emergency release handle. The ramp hissed and creaked open a fraction, just enough for him to squeeze through.

He tumbled into the hold, chest working, as the ramp came shut again behind him. The C‑130 groaned, engines whining as the plane surged upward into the storm darkness. A faint light broke only from the flashing consoles and the trembling flashlight clutched by Sophia.

They rose to their feet, guns held aloft, facing the Revenant in the center of the hold. His crimson eye nailed them, and in that moment, Caden knew they were dealing with more than a man.

He stood up, raising his pistol. The Revenant mimicked him.

"Subject 001," the Revenant uttered, his tone hollow and mechanized. "The protocol must continue."

Caden's hand tightened around the trigger. Sophia leaned in close to him. Thunder rumbled outside the clouds, and the world down below faded into night.