Each footfall feels heavier as I lead Scarlett through the dense, shadowed path, the weight of eyes tracking us prickling at the back of my neck. I can sense it—a presence watching, waiting. I don't give away that I know; instead, I keep my movements casual, scanning the area with subtle glances, letting my mind race through possible escape routes.
Then I hear it—a faint rustling, the unmistakable click of a safety release. Instinct takes over.
"GET DOWN!" I shout, yanking Scarlett down, my body shielding hers as I force her to the ground. In the same breath, gunfire erupts, a relentless hailstorm of bullets tearing through the trees around us. Branches snap, dirt sprays, and the air fills with the sharp tang of metal and smoke.
Every second stretches, feeling like an eternity. I press Scarlett tighter against the ground, my own heartbeat pounding in my ears, drowning out everything else. I can feel the heat of the rounds slicing just inches from us, tearing through the underbrush. There's no rhythm to the shots—it's a chaotic onslaught, meant to overwhelm and corner us.
Gradually, the gunfire subsides. Silence settles, almost mocking in its sudden calm. I wait, breathing hard, listening for any sign of movement, any lingering threat. Then, cautiously, I rise, scanning the area with sharp, narrowed eyes.
Scarlett scrambles to her feet, her face flushed with adrenaline, her eyes alight with determination. "They know we're here," she murmurs, her voice low, but there's an edge of exhilaration in it.
"More than that," I reply, my voice hard. "They were ready. This isn't just a hideout—Mercier has a whole network in place. Someone tipped him off."
Scarlett nods, her expression shifting from shock to steely resolve. "So, what's the plan?"
I glance around, mind racing. We can't risk another ambush like that. "We move fast, find a vantage point, and get our bearings. If he has eyes everywhere, we need to know where they are."
She nods, quickly falling in step beside me as we move deeper into the forest, keeping low and silent. The island's cover is both a blessing and a curse, offering protection but also a perfect trap. We make our way through thick vegetation, veering off our original path to throw off anyone tracking us.
After a few tense minutes, we find a rise overlooking Mercier's compound. From here, the layout is clearer—the guard rotations, the blind spots, and, most importantly, a secondary entrance hidden by thick brush. It's a narrow opportunity, but with the right timing, it could be our way in.
I turn to Scarlett, her expression mirroring my own calculation and resolve. "Tonight, we use that entrance. We get in, gather intel, and find out who's watching us—and why."
She nods, a hint of a grin on her lips. "Good. I'd hate to leave here without getting a look inside that fortress."
As darkness falls, we prepare for the infiltration, double-checking our gear, our weapons, our plan. The island is silent now, but I can feel the weight of anticipation, knowing that every step could lead us deeper into the unknown—where Mercier waits with his hidden allies, each move taking us closer to the heart of danger.
As night settles over Blackthorn Island, Scarlett and I move with calculated precision, shadows merging into shadows. The cover of darkness is our only ally out here, and we intend to use every inch of it. The silence is almost deafening, broken only by the faint hum of insects and the occasional rustling of leaves as we maneuver through the thick jungle toward the secondary entrance we spotted earlier.
The entrance is well-concealed, partially covered by dense brush and positioned in a blind spot where guards rarely check. Mercier thought of everything—except for us. We slip in quietly, Scarlett watching my back as I scan the narrow corridor we've entered. It leads down into the heart of the compound, dimly lit by flickering overhead lights, a labyrinth of concrete and steel hidden beneath the jungle's surface.
As we creep further in, the tension is palpable. Every footstep echoes, every shadow feels like a potential threat. I catch glimpses of the compound's inner workings—screens displaying surveillance feeds, maps of the island, even plans for what looks like an expansion. Mercier isn't just hiding; he's building something far more ambitious than a mere escape. But what?
We slip past several rooms, pressing ourselves into alcoves whenever we hear voices or footsteps. Finally, we reach what appears to be a command center. Inside, a large screen displays an encrypted feed, likely tracking movements across the island.
"Looks like he's setting up his own security network," Scarlett whispers, her eyes narrowing as she studies the screens. "Monroe didn't tell us half of what's going on here."
"Of course not," I mutter, feeling a familiar bitterness rise. "The less we know, the less control we have. But Mercier's not hiding from just us—this setup is way too elaborate. He's preparing for a siege."
I motion for Scarlett to take over one of the terminals while I keep watch. She plugs in a portable drive, her fingers dancing across the keyboard, pulling up files and scanning through layers of encryption.
"What do we have?" I ask, glancing back toward the hallway, listening intently for any sign we've been compromised.
"Locations of his assets, encrypted communications, and…" She pauses, her face lit by the glow of the screen as her eyes widen. "Blueprints for a government facility—one that isn't supposed to exist."
I lean over her shoulder, absorbing the implications. If Mercier has this intel, he has leverage—and something the government desperately wants back under its control.
"Let's copy everything," I say, voice low but urgent. "If we can get this data out, we'll have leverage against Monroe and Miller, too. They'll have to explain why they sent us in blind."
Scarlett nods, her fingers working faster. She's just about to eject the drive when a sound down the hall makes us both freeze. Footsteps, coming closer, heavy and unhurried.
I motion to Scarlett to get behind one of the server stacks, while I slip into a shadowed corner, gun in hand. The footsteps stop just outside the command center door. Whoever it is, they're taking their time, almost like they're toying with us.
The door swings open, and in steps a tall, imposing figure I recognize immediately—Mercier himself. He stands there for a moment, scanning the room, his eyes narrowed as though he senses something off.
I hold my breath, willing myself to blend into the shadows. Scarlett's hidden well, her breathing almost imperceptible. Mercier's gaze sweeps over the room one last time before he turns, seemingly satisfied, and exits.
I wait a beat, then motion for Scarlett. She nods, slipping out of her hiding spot, her face pale but steady.
"Let's get out of here," she whispers, the adrenaline thick in her voice.
We leave the command center, moving quickly yet carefully down the corridors. The compound seems eerily quiet, but I know better than to trust the silence. We retrace our steps, keeping close to the walls, ears tuned to every creak and shift in the shadows.
Finally, we're back outside, the cool night air hitting our faces like a shock. We make our way to the extraction point, where a small boat waits, camouflaged beneath a canopy of branches.
As we push off from the island's shore, the tension eases slightly, but my mind is already racing ahead. We have what we came for, but this mission has opened up far more questions than answers. Mercier's network, his knowledge of hidden government facilities—it's a web of intrigue that goes far beyond a rogue agent in hiding.
Scarlett looks over at me, her face unreadable in the moonlight, but there's a flicker of something else there—something like respect, or perhaps recognition of the precarious line we're walking.
"You realize this puts us in deeper than ever, don't you?" she asks quietly, gripping the edge of the boat as we speed away from the island.
I nod, the weight of the drive in my pocket a reminder of the power it holds. "We're not just pawns anymore. We're playing our own game now. And if we use this right… we might just change the rules."
As the boat cuts through the waves, I stare back at the island, knowing that this mission was only the beginning.
As we reach the mainland, the city lights blinking in the distance, I feel the weight of what we've uncovered settle into the back of my mind. We disembark in silence, slipping into the cover of night. Scarlett and I split up, each fading into our own shadowed path through the city to throw off anyone who might be tracking us.
Later, as I finally close the door to my apartment, the dim glow of the city skyline barely lighting my living room, I slip the drive out of my pocket, rolling it between my fingers. This small device, containing every piece of data we stole, is the key to a web of secrets that Mercier—and likely Monroe and Miller—never wanted exposed. But secrets are only as powerful as the people willing to wield them.
My thoughts are interrupted by a quiet knock at the door. I stiffen, my mind racing as I consider who it could be. I glance at the drive, quickly tucking it into a hidden compartment in the wall before moving toward the door. I open it a crack and see Scarlett standing there, her face partially shadowed but unmistakably tense.
I open the door wider, letting her in. "Couldn't wait for the briefing tomorrow?"
She closes the door behind her, folding her arms. "This isn't about tomorrow. I needed to talk about… the data." She looks around, clearly checking to see if anyone else is in the room, before her gaze lands back on me, intense. "Did you look at it? All of it?"
"Not yet," I admit, leaning back against the wall. "I wanted to make sure I could do it safely."
Scarlett nods, her face drawn. "There's more in there than we thought. I caught some of it while copying. This isn't just government assets and facilities. It's a whole network of black ops, missions that aren't just classified—they don't exist on any official record."
Her voice drops, barely above a whisper. "Including operations targeting people close to us."
A chill runs through me as her words sink in. "People close to us?"
She nods, her expression unreadable. "Family members, known associates. Even… college connections."
I feel a faint jolt of recognition—Lucy. She's been working with Anderson Silva, caught up in this game whether she realizes it or not. If Monroe or Miller considers her a liability… I shake off the thought, focusing back on Scarlett.
"This changes things," I say, my tone sharper than I intended. "If Monroe and Miller are using us to silence threats or tie up loose ends, we need leverage to keep ourselves out of their crosshairs."
Scarlett's gaze hardens, her determination cutting through any lingering doubt. "Then we don't just hold onto this data. We use it. Carefully. Strategically. Maybe even let Mercier know we've got it."
The idea is dangerous, reckless even, but it has merit. If Mercier knows we have the information, he might be willing to negotiate—a favor owed, a bargain struck. But the cost of making that move could be higher than I can calculate. Still, with Monroe's eyes everywhere, we may have little choice.
"First, we comb through every file, understand exactly what we're holding," I say, feeling a renewed focus settle over me. "Then we choose our allies carefully. And we make sure that Monroe and Miller realize the risk of underestimating us."
Scarlett gives a tight nod, her gaze fierce. "Good. Because I don't intend to be their pawn any longer."
As she leaves, I retrieve the drive and set it on my desk, its dark potential radiating in the quiet of the room. With the weight of these secrets resting in my hands, I know the path forward won't be simple. But for the first time, the pieces are mine to move, and I'll make sure every one lands exactly where it needs to.
The night stretches on as I dive into the files, each piece of intel sharpening my resolve. Mercier, Monroe, Miller… every one of them has a role to play in the chaos that's about to unfold. And as for me—I'm done playing by anyone else's rules.