The repulsive odor emanating from the polluted water awaiting treatment was revolting. Traversing the sewers was never an enjoyable experience, with moments of unbearable stench almost causing me to retch.
Fortunately, we remained dry, for now, which offered some solace. Yet, I had to suppress any sense of comfort to navigate this place and ensure our escape.
Bruce and the others forged ahead while I diligently observed our progress. The intricate tunnel network forced us to navigate through numerous interconnected passageways before finally reaching our destination.
Bruce was a reliable fellow and had a good working dynamic with Chico. Although I was quite intrigued by the relationship between the two. That was something I would ask someday.
Chico ordered everyone to stop as Bruce takes point. He investigated something and signaled us to keep our eyes in the horizon. I ordered everyone to crouch.
A few individuals approached, their footsteps suggesting a small group. Bruce quickly pressed against the nearby wall, keenly observing the approaching figures.
Chico moved to my side, mirroring Bruce's position, and posed the question, "Sir, do we engage or seek an alternative route?"
"We're primed and can't afford to lose momentum," I responded, eager to escape the foul stench of this cesspool.
Chico signaled to Bruce, who expressed disagreement with my plan. After a brief exchange of signals, Chico turned to me and conveyed, "Bruce believes it's not viable. We'll need to find an alternative path."
I reached out to Ludwig and inquired about our current position, cautioning, "While this path might offer a shortcut, it's also quite risky."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
Ludwig enlarged the map of the train station. He replied, "Here's why it's not a good idea to proceed with the shortcut. That path leads outside, but we'd have to exit through a narrow manhole. It looks like that way might be sealed. Imagine emerging from the manhole with the enemy waiting for you?"
"What do you suggest?" I asked.
"We have to find another way," Ludwig concluded.
After our brief conversation, Bruce suddenly withdrew from the wall. Several seconds later, we heard screams followed by roaring explosions. The passageway leading outside collapsed right before us.
Bruce barely escaped the collapse and approached me, catching his breath. "I overheard some of their conversations, sir. They're planning to seal all the exits from the outside. We need to move quickly before they destroy the remaining passageways!"
Glancing at Ludwig, he concured with Bruce's suggestion. We examined the map once more. "We can opt for this route. Though it's farther, our enemies are less likely to anticipate us taking it."
I nodded decisively and swiftly directed my team to proceed down the alternate path. The imperative was clear: we couldn't risk discovery, which could result in capture or worse. Tension etched the faces of my men as they navigated the darkness, wading through murky, foul-smelling water. Every step was urgent; our collective desire was to escape swiftly and completely.
The air of suspense and uncertainty filled the atmosphere as we navigated through the sewers. Ludwig was the one leading us first looking at his cellphone from the map that he hacked. I and the others followed him carefully while looking out for ambushes and traps.
Ludwig abruptly halted, signaling us to scatter. Hastily, we sought refuge wherever available. A beam of light from a flashlight pierced through the darkness, illuminating the wall behind which Ludwig had concealed himself. It was clear that the enemy had infiltrated the tunnels. I knew I had to act swiftly or risk discovery.
"Clear! Nothing here!" shouted one of the enemy mercenaries.
"Are you sure?" Another enemy asked in reply.
The initial fear that gripped my team has now given way to a palpable sense of relief. Gathering my men together, I took charge, ready to brief them on our next course of action.
Moments later, the enemies retreated, prompting a collective sigh of relief. As we regrouped, Chico, his anxiety palpable, voiced his concern, "They're all around us, aren't they?"
"Enough, Chico!" Bruce rebuked him before turning to me and stating, "The enemy surrounds us.""
"I'm aware!" I replied, irritation evident in my tone, contemplating whether it might be best to forcefully make our escape.
I turned to Ludwig, inquiring about our proximity to our destination. He responded promptly, stating, "Sir, we're approximately three hundred meters away."
Realizing our destination wasn't far, I assessed that we could easily sprint the distance. Taking charge, I exclaimed, "Follow me!" as we swiftly made our way toward the nearest exit.
Harnessing my hardened skin ability, I skillfully manipulated metal particles from the air, fashioning them into a protective vest across my chest. Utilizing my magnetism prowess, I seamlessly crafted additional protective plates beneath my attire, ensuring comprehensive defense.
"Stay behind me, no matter what!" I shouted as we raced towards the exit.
With no time to spare, lingering was not an option. The mere thought of the enemy catching up spurred us into swift action; there was simply too much at stake. I remained steadfast in my determination to escape, my focus solely on putting distance between us and any potential threat.
I dashed ahead at full speed, Bruce and the others close on my heels, our sole focus on putting distance between us and the danger behind. Oblivious to our surroundings, the rhythmic pounding of our footsteps reverberated through the area.
As we neared the exit, just fifty meters away, two enemy mercenaries emerged from the door, catching us off guard. In a split second of hesitation, their intention became clear, but before they could act, Chico and Bruce swiftly incapacitated them with precise shots to the head.
The enemies lay sprawled on the ground, their defeat bringing a sense of vindication. These were not my former colleagues, but betrayers met with their rightful end. Trevor, Troy, and Andre would soon face the same fate.
Observing their momentary halt, I quickly urged them forward with a shout, resuming our sprint with me taking the lead once more. We hurried through the doorway, emerging into the backyard of the Terminal. The area appeared deserted, with only a fence standing before us.
I gestured to Bruce, indicating that he should take action. With Chico and another team member by his side, they meticulously scanned the area for any booby traps before attempting to remove the wooden planks barricading our path.
Once the planks were successfully removed, we pressed forward until the highway came into view. Just then, the unmistakable whirring of quadcopter rotors reached our ears, prompting us to seek cover beneath the trees scattered across the field.
"Close call..." I sighed in relief, casting a glance behind me. My team remained intact, every member accounted for.
With no time to waste, I swiftly directed my team to make their way to the parking lot, just a hundred meters away. We sprinted with urgency, the adrenaline driving us forward. Upon reaching the parking space, we spotted several vehicles, but our focus zeroed in on the weathered four-by-four pickup truck.
As we made our escape, our pursuers arrived too late to intercept us. Frantically searching the area, they unleashed tracking dogs in a desperate attempt to pick up our trail. The barks of the hounds echoed through the air as they bounded toward the perimeter fence in pursuit.
The mercenaries deployed their drones, hoping to improve their odds of locating us. Barking orders to their men, they dispersed in all directions, their determination palpable in the air.
However, their efforts were in vain; we had already put a considerable distance between us, five hundred meters away, and safely ensconced in our getaway vehicle. Inside the truck were Chico, Bruce, and myself, while the rest of the team clung to the trunk, ready to make our escape.
Deliberately, I left a box with Dory Michelson's fingerprints on the ground, a calculated move to stir up chaos. Spotting it, I instructed Chico to drive us away from the scene. I was well aware that the revelation of Dory's involvement would send shockwaves through our adversaries, fueling his thirst for vengeance.
Inside the four-by-four pickup truck, Bruce turned to me with a questioning look. "What was that all about?" he asked, gesturing towards the box I had tossed aside earlier.
I responded, pulling off my synthetic gloves. "Just a little distraction," I replied casually, tossing the gloves aside to be disposed of later.
"Sir Shayne, here's the report and the information you were looking for," Ludwig called out, drawing my attention.
"Excellent, send it to my email," I replied, impressed by the efficiency of my team's work.
"Yes, sir," Ludwig acknowledged, promptly.
As our vehicle sped homeward, I gazed beyond the familiar sights of Sin City. The vibrant neon glow of the red light district contrasted sharply with the stark realities of inequality.
Navigating through the city's most destitute neighborhoods, we passed rows of dilapidated buildings left to decay. Among them, the homeless sought refuge on the streets, their expressions a mix of curiosity and resignation as our vehicle rumbled past.
Though the scene was heart-wrenching, I knew there was little I could do to alleviate their suffering. Redirecting my focus to the driver's seat, I patiently awaited our arrival in the commercial district.
While I waited, I reached for my cell phone and dialed a number. It took several attempts before she finally picked up. When she answered, her voice was filled with irritation as she exclaimed, "Why are you calling at this hour?" I could sense her frustration directed at me.
"I apologize, but there's something important I need to discuss," I offered apologetically.