The air between them was thick with tension.
Sergeant Darius "Hellhound" Rook stood his ground atop the wreckage, his sniper rifle aimed at General Viktor "Bloodfang" Kruger. The muzzle still smoked from the last shot—a warning.
But Kruger didn't take warnings.
Below, Eva "Black Widow" Morales coughed, trying to push herself up from the rubble. The bruises on her ribs throbbed with each breath. She wasn't out of this fight yet—but she wouldn't last long without backup.
Kruger rolled his shoulder, the wound from Rook's bullet already closing. He turned his gaze up to his former right-hand man. Red eyes burning.
"You really want to do this, Rook?" His voice was low, edged with amusement. "You and I both know you don't have the firepower to stop me."
Rook didn't flinch. "Maybe not." He chambered another round. "But I can sure as hell slow you down."
"Then let's see you try."
Rook pulled the trigger.
Kruger was already moving. The bullet grazed his cheek, cutting a deep, bloody line across his face—but he didn't stop. Didn't even blink.
Before Rook could line up another shot, Kruger launched himself upward. His unnatural strength sent him soaring toward the sniper's perch.
Rook barely had time to react.
He dropped his rifle and rolled back just as Kruger's boot slammed down where he had stood. The impact cracked the concrete.
Rook landed in a crouch, drawing his sidearm in a fluid motion. He fired—three rapid shots.
One to the chest. One to the shoulder. One to the leg.
All hit. None stopped Kruger.
The warlord lunged forward, his hand closing around Rook's throat.
"You were always a good soldier," Kruger growled, lifting him off his feet. "But you made a mistake."
Rook gritted his teeth, struggling. "Yeah?" He forced a smirk despite the crushing pressure on his windpipe. "So did you."
From below, Eva had planted a C4 charge on the base of the platform.
Kruger barely had time to react before—
The explosion ripped through the foundation. The entire structure collapsed.
Kruger, caught off guard, released Rook. The two men tumbled into the flames and debris below.
Smoke filled the air. The ground rumbled from the explosion.
From the wreckage, a lone figure emerged.
Rook coughed violently, staggering forward. His uniform was torn, blood dripping from his forehead.
Eva limped toward him. "Did we get him?"
Rook didn't answer immediately. He stared at the inferno, his instincts screaming that this wasn't over.
A deep, guttural growl rumbled from beneath the debris.
Rook's grip tightened on his pistol.