The night sky above the compound was an endless canvas of darkness, punctuated only by the occasional flash of distant lightning. Below, in the depths of the city, the air was thick with the tension of an impending storm—not just in the sky, but in the very streets themselves.
Grimm's team crouched low, hidden within the shadows of an abandoned industrial yard. The compound stood before them, a monolithic structure that loomed like a fortress, its high walls bristling with security measures. Guards patrolled the perimeter, their movements methodical, like clockwork—predictable, but still dangerous.
Tanya adjusted the scope on her rifle, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the scene. "There are at least five guards on the front gate. Another two on the tower," she muttered, her voice low. "And I can count a few more near the east side—inside the compound."
Grimm didn't need to look. He could feel the weight of the plan pressing on his shoulders. This wasn't just another mission. This was their chance to cripple Blackthorn, to expose Kessler and his twisted ambitions for the world to see.
And there was no turning back.
"We breach on my mark," Grimm said, his voice sharp. "Bull, you take the front gate. Tanya, provide cover from the tower. Reyes, stay on comms and feed us intel. We move fast, we move quiet."
He didn't need to say more. The team understood. No one was under any illusion about the stakes. If they failed, there would be no second chance. Blackthorn would have their heads on a platter, and the truth about Protocol Phantom would die with them.
Grimm gave a sharp nod. "Let's get this done."
The first few moments of the assault went by in a blur of calculated chaos. Bull's breach charge detonated with a deafening roar, sending the gates flying off their hinges as he stormed through, weapon raised. The guards on the outside were dead before they even had time to react—quick, efficient, ruthless.
Tanya's sniper rifle barked from her perch atop the tower. Each shot rang out like a silent death sentence, picking off the guards with precision. The first few fell without a sound, crumpling to the ground, their lives extinguished in an instant.
"Clear on the west side," Tanya reported. "I'm moving to the next target."
Grimm, leading the charge, moved swiftly toward the entrance. His team followed in tight formation, weapons at the ready, eyes scanning every corner, every shadow for potential threats. They were a well-oiled machine—every step calculated, every move deliberate.
But as they crossed into the compound, the world seemed to slow down. The quiet was gone. The calm before the storm had passed, and now, the true battle was about to begin.
"Ambush!" Reyes shouted through the comms. "They're mobilizing—drones incoming!"
Grimm's heart skipped a beat. He didn't need to be told twice. He dropped to a knee, pulling the team into cover as gunfire erupted from the shadows. Blackthorn's response was swift and brutal. Soldiers appeared from every direction, weapons raised, unleashing a storm of bullets that tore through the air.
Grimm fired, taking out two of them with well-placed shots. Bull charged forward, his heavy weapon blasting a path through the enemy ranks, his bellowing battle cry deafening in the chaos.
But it wasn't enough. More soldiers poured in from every corner, overwhelming their position.
"Reyes!" Grimm barked. "Where the hell are those drones?"
"Drones are inbound!" Reyes's voice came through the comms, tinged with urgency. "I'm trying to reroute them, but their network's jammed. They're going to hit us hard if we don't move fast!"
Grimm gritted his teeth. "Keep pushing! We have to get to the control room, or this is all for nothing!"
They fought their way through the onslaught, moving with the precision of a team that had been through hell and back. Every step forward was earned with blood and sweat. The walls of the compound seemed to close in around them, the sound of gunfire deafening, the thrum of drones overhead filling the air like an ominous heartbeat.
Grimm's mind raced as they pushed deeper into the compound. They were getting closer, but the enemy was relentless. His senses were on high alert, his every instinct screaming at him to be ready for the next strike.
Suddenly, the hum of the drones grew louder, and then the ground shook with the impact of an explosion. Grimm dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the blast that sent debris flying.
"Damn it!" Bull yelled, his voice muffled by the chaos. "We've got incoming!"
Grimm scanned the area, his eyes locking onto the control room in the distance. It was the heart of Blackthorn's operation, the place where Kessler and his cronies orchestrated their every move. If they could take it, they could end the war before it even truly began.
"Move! Now!" Grimm shouted.
The team surged forward, weapons raised, cutting down anyone who dared to stand in their way. They breached the door to the control room with brutal efficiency, taking out the guards stationed inside before they had a chance to react.
Grimm stormed into the room, his eyes locking onto the central terminal. The screens flashed with activity—communications, surveillance feeds, and tactical data that showed the full extent of Blackthorn's global operations.
"Reyes, get in here and hack this thing," Grimm ordered.
Reyes scrambled over to the terminal, his fingers flying over the keys as he accessed the network. The tension in the room was palpable, each second feeling like an eternity. They had one shot to expose Kessler and bring Blackthorn to its knees.
And then, just as the last screen flickered to life, a voice cut through the air—cold, familiar, and dripping with malice.
"Well, well, well. It's been a long time, Captain."
Grimm froze. He knew that voice.
Adrian Kessler.
The mastermind behind everything. The man who had engineered the war that threatened to engulf the world.
And now, he was here, watching them from the screen.