[Third person POV]
A line of media vans screeched to a halt a block away from the nightclub, their engines steaming under the cold night air. Cameramen scrambled to set up, reporters shouted into their microphones, their words almost drowned by the echoing sound of gunfire a few buildings away.
"We're reporting live from Hell's Kitchen where something is unfolding near the Iron Serpents' nightclub compound," a Channel 8 reporter announced into her mic. Behind her, the air was alive with tension. "Gunfire has been heard. Multiple sources confirm possible trafficking victims were found in the building's basement. Police have just begun to arrive."
Two nights ago, before the chaos, a number of encrypted hard drives had made their way into the hands of handpicked investigative journalists. The drives contained documents, videos, and records—names of dirty cops, financial transactions, blueprints of corruption. The files had been passed anonymously, but the intent was clear. The Iron Serpents had flourished under the shield of silence. That shield was now breaking.
[Few moments before the chaos]
Inside the building. David had already retrieved the throwing knives from the men he had silently executed outside the basement. Blood stained the floor beneath their slumped bodies, and he paid them no further attention. He moved with lethal grace, his body on edge, his vision sharper than it had ever been.
Everything around him had changed.
Shadows pulsed with unseen energy. Light became a dull blur while edges glowed softly. His vision peeled reality into layers, highlighting threats, paths, and patterns.
"Eagle Vision," he muttered under his breath, awed but focused.
He crept upstairs through a side maintenance stairwell. As he reached a dimly lit hallway, two gang members stood outside a storage room, rifles slung lazily across their chests. From behind the door came the faint sound of voices.
David moved without hesitation. He surged forward in complete silence. One swift strike brought his elbow into the first guard's throat, crushing his windpipe. The second turned, eyes wide, but was yanked backward into a chokehold. David held him tight until the man's body went limp.
He dragged the unconscious one into the storage room.
Inside were three more Iron Serpent thugs, gathered around a table scattered with cash, burner phones, and rolled-up blueprints. One of them—a tall, bald man—reached for his pistol too late. David kicked it away and smashed his head against the table edge. Another tried to run but got a knee to the gut and collapsed.
The last one stood frozen, hands raised.
"Don't," David said coldly.
He grabbed the remaining conscious man by the collar and threw him into a metal chair. "You've got ten seconds to give me something useful, or I'll get creative."
The thug, a wiry man with a scar under his eye, coughed but smirked. "You think you're scary, freak? We've got more coming. Whole crew. You're dead."
David's foot slammed into his chest, knocking the chair over.
He leaned down and pulled the man's face close. "Let me make this easy. Talk now, or you'll end up like the four downstairs."
The man paled.
"There's a shipment," he rasped. "Dockyard 39. Tomorrow night. Two containers full of people. Eastern Europe, Southeast Asia. They've been prepping it for a week."
"What else?"
"That is all I know."
He raised a tranq gun and fired. The man slumped back, unconscious.
Gideon's voice buzzed softly through his earpiece. "Police dispatch en route. ETA three minutes. Two marked cruisers and one unmarked, followed by SWAT. Media coverage is spreading. Reinforcements from the Serpents inbound, they would reach first."
"Perfect," David muttered.
He moved through the compound like a ghost, disabling security systems as he went. He detonated a small EMP charge in the main comms room, cutting off communications to nearby devices. In the hallway, he planted micro-bombs at structural weak points, designed to collapse non-load bearing walls and disrupt escape routes.
Meanwhile, two black SUVs and a box truck screeched around the corner, headlights off. Men poured out, armed with automatic rifles, yelling at each other to fan out.
David watched from above. He adjusted the settings on his HUD lens, tagging targets.
They rushed toward the side entrances, unaware that they were walking into a trap.
Outside, the flashing red and blue lights intensified. Officers began establishing a perimeter. The first responders herded civilians away.
"Set up barricades. Clear the block," a female sergeant barked into her radio. "No entry without body armor."
More journalists arrived. Some were streaming live, describing the frenzy in breathless voices. Reporters speculated on human trafficking, corruption and gang warfare all at once.
[Present time]
The moment the Serpents first reinforcements stepped inside, David triggered a series of concussive mines in the hallway and started firing at them from the top through the gaps of the stairs. The explosions threw the men off balance. Shouts echoed.
Outside, the cops reacted instantly.
"Shots fired inside!" someone yelled.
Officers ducked behind cars, drawing weapons. SWAT vans pulled up with screeching tires. Doors slammed. Riot shields came out.
"Hold positions!" a captain ordered. "Return fire only if fired upon."
Just as the captain shouted, a sharp crack rang out. A patrolman standing in the front staggered back, screaming in pain as a bullet tore through his shoulder.
"Officer down!" someone yelled.
The captain's face twisted in fury. "Engage! All units return fire now!"
Bullets ripped through the air as the officers opened fire on the nightclub, returning fire against the Serpents holed up inside.
David used the mayhem.
He moved to the club's VIP section, where he found a private office belonging to one of the lieutenants. Inside were locked drawers, encrypted hard drives, keys, and documents. Gideon scanned everything.
David copied the data, then left.
Outside, the standoff raged. A Serpent tried to flee through a side door but was taken down by a sniper. SWAT finally breached the front, flashbangs erupting.
David walked through the building's back door unnoticed, slipping into the shadows of the alley. He disappeared into the night, unseen by both sides.
David's voice was quiet in the mic. "Gideon, prepare data packets for FBI, Interpol, and missing persons units. Begin linking facial matches from basement captives. Prioritize those with existing records. Also start our plan."
"Yes, David. Distribution already in progress."
He pulled his hood tighter and vanished into the dark, leaving the Iron Serpents to burn in their own sins, while the world above finally opened its eyes..
"Now point me to the direction where that bitch Dante is."
Back at the news stations, anchors were already breaking into regular programming. Headlines flooded the screen:
"BREAKING: Human Trafficking Ring Exposed in Midtown."
"Shootout Between NYPD and Armed Gang Outside Hell's Kitchen Nightclub."
To Be Continued...