Chapter 8 - The Siege of Blackwood
The rain had turned into a full-blown thunderstorm as six tactical vehicles rolled through the muddy tracks of Blackwood Forest. I wore full body armor over my wounded shoulder, holding a suppressed tactical rifle. Beside me sat twelve of my most loyal men—men who had bled with me for a decade.
"Rules of engagement are simple," I said over the comms system. "Marcus Vance dies tonight. No negotiations, no second chances. Clear the compound."
We hit the bunker entrance at midnight. Victor blew the reinforced steel doors with heavy breaching charges.
BOOM!
The heavy explosion echoed across the valley. We moved in fast and lethal, clearing hallway after hallway under the strobe light of emergency flares. Marcus's remaining mercenaries were ruthless, but they were fighting for money; my men were fighting for our home.
We pushed through the concrete corridors, leaving nothing behind. Step by step, floor by floor, we systematically dismantled what was left of Marcus Vance’s shadow empire.
Finally, we reached the lowest level—a vast underground command room filled with server racks and old radio equipment.
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Standing in the center of the room, holding a detonator tied to high explosives strapped along the support pillars, was Marcus. He was bleeding from a gunshot wound to his arm, his eyes wide and unhinged.
"Step back, Andrew!" Marcus screamed, his thumb hovering over the red button. "You take one more step and I blow this entire mountain down on top of both of us!"
