Chapter 22 - Breach at Site-44
The transport hovered silently just thirty feet above a rocky clearing near the upper ventilation shaft of Site-44. Julian and Mara descended via the rapid-deployment winch, their tactical boots touching down on the damp, moss-covered stone with barely a sound. Four elite Obsidian Guard operatives fanned out immediately, securing the perimeter with kinetic rifles raised.
The heavy steel blast door of the facility was ajar, a thick cable running from an external diesel generator into the auxiliary power port.
"Power signature is stable," one of the guards reported via comm-link. "No signs of automated defense turrets. Interior atmospheric pressure is balanced."
Julian stepped forward, resting his hand on the cold steel edge of the door, pushing it wide open with a low, metallic groan that echoed off the rock walls. Flashlights cut through the absolute darkness inside, revealing a long, concrete-lined corridor filled with vintage computer terminals, filing cabinets, and dust-covered wiring.
They moved in tight tactical formation down the corridor, their boots echoing softly in the cavernous silence. At the end of the hall lay the central communications room—the source of the encrypted handshake.
May you like
As Julian and Mara stepped into the room, the emergency overhead fluorescent lights flickered to life with an abrasive, buzzing hum. Seated in front of a glowing, retro-fitted terminal was a man in his late fifties, wearing a worn military jacket, his graying hair unkempt, holding a handheld transceiver.
He slowly turned around, blinking against the bright tactical flashlights, and stared directly at Mara.
