Chapter 2 - THE GHOSTS OF FORT BRAGGThe bulletproof Maybach hummed through the rain-slicked streets of downtown Chicago, cutting through the midnight fog like a sleek black shark.
In the back seat, the leather interior creaked under the weight of the massive Malinois. Titan sat upright, staring fixedly out the tinted window, watching the neon lights of the city streak past. He hadn’t panted once since leaving the warehouse. His breathing was deep, measured, and rhythmic—the heart rate of a combat operator in a high-threat zone.
Victor poured two fingers of neat bourbon into a heavy crystal tumbler. He didn’t drink it. He swirled the amber liquid, watching the light catch the glass.
“You’re not what they said you were,” Victor murmured, breaking the silence of the cabin.
Titan didn't turn his head immediately. Then, slowly, those haunting amber eyes shifted from the window to Victor’s face. A low, vibrating rumble emanated from the dog's chest—not a growl of anger, but something deeper, a frequency of recognition.
“Marcus,” Victor said, his voice cutting through the hum of the engine.
“Yeah, Boss?” Marcus replied from the front passenger seat, nervously glancing back through the partition mirror.
“Call our contact in military logistics. The one we helped out of federal custody in Virginia last year. Tell him I want every classified file on Project Cerberus. Unredacted. I want to know why a Tier-One operational asset with a clean service record suddenly became a ‘military reject’ three weeks ago.”
Marcus’s eyebrows shot up. “Project Cerberus? Boss, that’s black-budget stuff. Special Activities Division. Dealing with that is kicking a hornet’s nest.”
“The nest was already kicked, Marcus,” Victor said coldly, taking a slow sip of his bourbon. “Someone wanted this dog dead, or locked away in a dogfighting ring where he’d tear himself to pieces within a month. When people like that try to bury a secret, it usually means the dog knows where the bodies are buried.”
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At the sound of the word dog, Titan let out a sharp, single bark. It wasn't loud, but it carried an uncanny, almost human intonation of agreement.
Victor stared at the animal, a rare, cold smile touching the corners of his lips. “Smart boy. Let’s see what the Pentagon is so afraid of.”
