Chapter 4 - THE NAVAL YARD TRAPThe abandoned naval yard was a graveyard of rusted metal, towering cranes, and rotting cargo ships looming against the stormy horizon. Inside a cavernous warehouse, Jax was zip-tied to a steel chair beneath a single flickering lightbulb. Blood trickled down his temple, mixing with the rain dripping from his clothes.
Victor stood at a steel table nearby, assembling a high-tech explosive device wired directly to a satellite uplink terminal.
"Why are you doing this?" Jax choked out, his arrogance completely shattered. "He was just a broke old man at a bus stop!"
Victor laughed—a hollow, dark sound. "A broke old man? Samuel Vance was the ghost of the Special Forces. He built the network that controls global intelligence. And when he realized what our commanders were turning us into, he tried to burn it down. He sacrificed his own leg to blow up our facility... leaving me buried in the rubble to rot."
The heavy iron doors of the warehouse suddenly buckled inward with a deafening CRASH.
Dust and smoke billowed into the room as a lone figure walked through the haze. Samuel Vance stepped into the light. His exoskeleton hissed with pneumatic power, turning his limp into a terrifying, methodical march.
"Let the kid go, Victor," Samuel said, his voice echoing off the corrugated iron walls. "This is between you and me."
Victor smirked, stepping away from the table and drawing twin combat knives. "You always were soft, Commander. You care about civilian casualties. You care about morals. That's why you lost your leg... and that's why you're going to lose your life tonight."
With terrifying speed, Victor charged forward, the blades flashing in the gloom. Samuel raised his reinforced arm, blocking the first strike with a resounding metallic clang. The two brothers engaged in a brutal, lightning-fast melee—knives clashing against armored gauntlets, heavy boots tearing up the concrete floor.
Samuel used his cybernetic leg to deliver a brutal sidekick that sent Victor crashing through a stack of wooden crates. But as Victor hit the ground, he pressed a remote detonator in his hand.
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A countdown timer on the satellite uplink terminal started ticking down rapidly from 03:00.
"In three minutes, the server will broadcast Black Spire's global target list to every terrorist network on Earth," Victor spat, wiping blood from his lip. "Choose, brother: save the kid, save the world, or fight me!"
