I loaded a fresh magazine into the weapon, the sharp click echoing in the concrete room.

"We leave immediately," I ordered, taking command of the strike team.

Chapter 9 - THE NORTHERN BORDER.

The helicopter ride was silent, the tension in the cabin thick enough to cut with a blade.

Below us, the desolate landscape of the northern border stretched out in the moonlight.

I stared down at the sprawling compound, identifying the heavily guarded hangar.

"Two minutes to drop," the pilot announced over the comms.

I checked my gear one last time, my heart hammering against my ribs.

This was not a rescue mission orchestrated by law enforcement.

This was an act of war.

Chapter 10 - THE BREACH.

Explosives shattered the reinforced steel doors of the hangar.

Smoke billowed into the massive space as we flooded the interior.

Gunfire erupted instantly, the deafening roar of automatic weapons filling my ears.

I moved with a ruthless precision I didn't know I possessed, taking down anyone who stood in my way.

My father covered my flank, a silent guardian angel dealing death to our enemies.

We pushed deeper into the facility, clearing room after bloody room.

The resistance was heavy, meaning we were getting closer to our target.

We kicked open the doors to the control room, weapons raised.