Callahan strode over, placing himself firmly between Leilani, Payton, and the door. He stared up at the speaker, his voice a glacier. "Did you honestly think we’d walk blindly into your slaughterhouse?"
"We've had a failsafe in place since the second we set foot in this wasteland."
"Built specifically for a coward like you."
Leilani supported Payton’s weight, exchanging a knowing smirk with Callahan.
Everyone had assumed the six of them were alone.
But Callahan had selected his six best operatives to form the infiltration team. The rest of his heavily armed detail was stationed outside the perimeter as a rapid-response unit. Their standing order: if the strike team lost radio contact for longer than the designated window, or if the situation went entirely sideways, the overwatch snipers had a green light to engage.
Dead silence hung over the intercom, save for the faint hum of static.
The arrogant, untouchable mastermind was suddenly rendered mute, utterly blindsided by the devastating reversal.
Callahan's eyes were lethal, glaring at the hidden camera like he could rip the man through the lens.
"Your little game is over. Now, we're coming for you."
His tone wasn't loud, but it carried a promise of absolute violence.
He was sick and tired of being led by the nose by some nameless, faceless freak.
Unfortunately, the mastermind wasn't sticking around to face his wrath.
The moment his grand finale collapsed, he had abandoned the monitoring station and sprinted for the roof.
The night wind whipped fiercely across the helipad, violently tearing at the hem of the mastermind's black trench coat as he stood by the open cabin door.
He glanced down at the sleek tablet in his hand. Two red dots were moving rapidly up the schematic.
Callahan and Leilani had rearmed themselves and were tearing through the building. At their current pace, they'd breach the roof in under a minute.


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