The storm raged outside, the wind howling like a beast trapped in the mountains. The safe house was nestled deep within the forest, hidden from prying eyes, but it felt far too exposed. Every creak of the wooden structure sent a ripple of tension through Grimm's body. His eyes were fixed on the laptop screen, the lines of code and encrypted messages flickering like ghosts in the static.
"Anything?" Tanya's voice came from behind him, sharp and steady.
Grimm glanced up at her. She stood by the window, her silhouette framed by the eerie glow of the storm. Her sniper rifle was slung across her back, her posture rigid and alert.
"Not yet," Grimm muttered, fingers still moving over the keys. "Reyes is still working on restoring comms. Until then, we're blind."
The team had been hard at work since they arrived. Reyes had set up a makeshift comms station, but the connection was patchy at best. They hadn't heard anything from the outside world since they lost contact with their intel source back in the city. The silence was suffocating, and Grimm couldn't shake the feeling that they were being hunted.
The hum of the laptop interrupted his thoughts as Reyes finally spoke up, his voice crackling through the speaker.
"I've got something," Reyes said, his fingers flying over the keyboard. "Comms are unstable, but I've managed to tap into some encrypted transmissions. Looks like Kessler's people are still active. And it's not just him."
Grimm's heart skipped a beat. He exchanged a glance with Tanya, who had already turned, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Who else?" Grimm demanded.
Reyes's voice lowered, almost to a whisper. "There's a name that keeps popping up in the chatter: Blackthorn. I think it's a code name or an alias, but it's connected to a network that's been operating globally. Kessler was just one part of it."
"Blackthorn…" Grimm murmured, his mind racing. It was a name he hadn't heard before, but something about it felt like a missing piece of the puzzle. His instincts screamed that this was bigger than just Kessler and his rogue operation. This was an entire network, a shadow organization with resources they couldn't even begin to comprehend.
Tanya's hand instinctively went to the hilt of her knife, her eyes scanning the room with growing unease. "We're being watched," she said, her voice low, almost a whisper. "Something's wrong. I can feel it."
Grimm stood, moving toward the window. The storm outside had intensified, the wind howling even louder, sending sheets of rain battering against the glass. Through the mist, he could make out shadows moving in the distance—figures too swift to be a natural part of the storm. His instincts, honed over years of combat, told him one thing: they weren't alone.
"I don't like this," Grimm muttered, his gaze narrowing as he scanned the terrain. "Reyes, get us more intel on Blackthorn. Tanya, stay sharp. Bull, how's the perimeter?"
Bull's gruff voice came through the comms, a low growl beneath the static. "All clear for now, but I've got a bad feeling about this. The storm's making it hard to see, but I'm not letting my guard down."
Grimm nodded, his mind working in overdrive. Blackthorn. It was no longer just a name. It was the next move in a game that had spiraled far beyond anything they had planned for. But what was Blackthorn's agenda? What were they after?
Before he could dwell on it further, Reyes's voice crackled through the comm again.
"Got something… but it's bad. There's a hit on a government facility… CIA, I think. It's happening now."
Grimm's heart sank. "What do you mean, now?"
Reyes didn't respond right away. The sound of rapid typing came through the speakers, followed by the click of a mouse. "They're moving on it in real-time. A coordinated strike. It's too fast—almost like they knew it was coming."
"Shit." Grimm's fists clenched. "Kessler… he's not done."
"We can't just sit here," Tanya said, her voice hard. "We need to go after them. If this goes any further, we'll be facing the entire network."
Grimm turned toward her, his face hardening. "We'll move when we have the right intel. We're not charging in blind."
The storm outside was a maelstrom of howling winds and driving rain. The fog had thickened, rolling in from the valleys like an ominous tide, swallowing the landscape in its embrace. And with it, a creeping sense of dread.
Suddenly, the distant sound of a car engine reached their ears. Low, rumbling, cutting through the roar of the storm. Then, a series of rapid knocks echoed against the door. The unmistakable sound of someone trying to force entry.
Tanya's instincts kicked in. She darted for the window, her movements swift and fluid, and Grimm's hand instinctively moved to his weapon. Bull was already positioned by the door, his massive frame filling the narrow frame as he crouched low.
A voice—gravelly, distorted by the storm—came from outside. "Mercer. Open up. We've got business."
Grimm's pulse quickened. He recognized the voice immediately, though it was no less a shock to hear it.
"Ghost," Grimm muttered under his breath. "What the hell is he doing here?"
Bull glanced at Grimm, confusion and caution in his eyes. "Is that…?"
Grimm didn't need to answer. He was already moving to the door, hand on the handle, his mind a thousand miles away. Ghost was a wildcard—a former operative who had disappeared off the grid years ago. No one had heard from him since. And now, here he was, knocking on their door in the middle of a storm, with nothing more than a cryptic message.
Whatever was coming, it was only just beginning.