The ship groaned as it began to change course. Volkova's fingers moved with deadly precision, rerouting the navigation systems with a calmness that belied the chaos unfolding around them. Grimm kept his eyes on the door, scanning for any movement, the harsh sound of his own breathing mixed with the dying whine of the helicopter overhead.
The blast from the grenade had bought them only a few moments of respite, but the enforcers were already recovering, reorganizing their assault.
"Do you have it?" Grimm asked, his voice low but urgent.
"I'm almost there," Volkova replied, her gaze fixed on the monitor in front of her, eyes flicking between code and navigation grids. The sweat on her brow betrayed her concentration, but she didn't break focus. "They won't make it easy."
The first of the mercenaries lunged into the doorway, his rifle aimed at Grimm, but before he could fire, Grimm was already moving. He ducked low, rolling to the side, his own weapon firing two quick bursts. The mercenary dropped, silenced before his foot even hit the floor.
Volkova didn't flinch. She was close—just a few more seconds, and they would be able to turn the tide. Grimm could feel the weight of time pressing down on him.
"You have to hurry," he muttered, his eyes darting toward the hallway. More footsteps. More mercenaries. The assault was about to intensify.
Just as another wave of men entered the bridge, Volkova let out a sharp breath. "Got it."
The ship's engines rumbled as the course shifted, taking them away from the oil platform, away from the dark horizon that loomed ahead. Grimm could almost feel the shift in the air, a momentary lull in the storm. They weren't out of danger yet, but it was a small victory in a battle that felt increasingly hopeless.
"They're not going to let us go that easy," Grimm said, his voice as grim as ever.
"I'm not planning on running," Volkova replied, her tone colder than ever as she reloaded her rifle. "We take the fight to them."
Grimm's lips curled into a grim smile. He liked that plan.
The ship was theirs for now, but the mercenaries weren't just going to roll over. Helix Dynamics had resources—resources that went beyond just manpower. Grimm had a sinking feeling that this ship was only the beginning of something much larger.
As if on cue, the door to the bridge burst open again. This time, the mercenaries were more prepared, more coordinated. Their leader—an imposing figure in tactical gear, face obscured by a black mask—stepped forward, flanked by two soldiers. His voice was calm, as if he was used to controlling the situation.
"Captain Mercer," the leader said, his voice sharp but not without a hint of respect. "I hoped it wouldn't come to this."
"Then you're a fool," Grimm replied, raising his rifle. His stance was unwavering, eyes locked on the man in front of him. "Helix doesn't get to play god with people's lives."
The man's lips twitched into a smile. "I think you misunderstand, Captain. This isn't about playing god. It's about survival. The world is changing, and you—" he gestured to Grimm with a cold, dismissive look, "you're part of the problem."
"Maybe I'm the solution," Grimm shot back, his finger tightening on the trigger.
Without warning, the mercenaries moved, opening fire as they advanced, forcing Grimm and Volkova to take cover behind the console. Bullets ricocheted off the walls, the noise deafening, but Grimm's mind was already calculating his next move.
"Volkova!" he shouted over the noise. "We need to take them down fast."
Volkova's rifle barked, cutting through the chaos with precise shots, each one finding its target. But the mercenaries were relentless. One of them—smaller, faster, and seemingly fearless—ducked low, sprinting toward Volkova, trying to get close enough to disable her.
Grimm didn't think, just acted. He lunged forward, tackling the mercenary to the ground with brutal force. The two crashed into the console, knocking sparks loose from the electrical panel as Grimm wrestled with the soldier, delivering a sharp elbow to the man's jaw.
"Don't let up!" Grimm barked, his voice a mix of urgency and fury.
Volkova moved fluidly, spinning around to face the advancing enemy, her sniper rifle now in hand, and she began picking off soldiers one by one. Every shot was deliberate, every kill clean. But even with the ship under their control, the battle was far from over.
The mercenary leader took a step back, calculating. "You think you've won, but you've only delayed the inevitable. Helix has already anticipated your moves, Mercer."
Grimm's eyes narrowed. "Then they're making a big mistake."
The man in front of him wasn't just a soldier. He was a part of something larger, something darker. And for the first time since this operation had started, Grimm felt the weight of it—Helix wasn't just an enemy. They were a machine, and he was the one who had to break it.
The leader raised a hand, signaling for a retreat. But as they turned to leave, Grimm's voice cut through the tension like a knife.
"Don't walk away from this, or I'll make sure you regret it."
The leader hesitated for just a moment before disappearing into the smoke-filled hallway, his mercenaries following close behind. Silence followed. For a moment, it felt like victory. But Grimm knew better.
Volkova approached him, her expression tight. "We've got the ship. For now."
Grimm looked out over the dark sea, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "They'll come back. And when they do, we'll be ready."
They weren't safe. Not by a long shot. But for the first time in weeks, Grimm felt the flicker of hope. And he wasn't going to let that flame go out.