The desert sun was merciless.
A scorched wind swept across the dust-blasted horizon as the chopper touched down in a remote airstrip in southern Jordan. Hidden among rusting oil drums and half-buried hangars, the safehouse was a ghost from the Cold War—forgotten, off-grid, and more secure than anything satellites could see.
Grimm stepped out first, boots crunching gravel as he scanned the perimeter. Volkova followed, face set in a permanent scowl beneath her shades. Reyes dismounted last, clutching the external drive like it was made of gold.
"Welcome to nowhere," Reyes muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. "Temperature's about a hundred, paranoia's double that."
Grimm didn't respond. His eyes were locked on the bunker ahead. "Let's move."
Inside, the air was stale but cool—concrete walls lined with dusty servers, crates of old munitions, and racks of outdated gear. It had been a NATO outpost decades ago, now just another ghost nest.
Darnell Briggs—"Bull"—was already inside, shirt off, arms glistening with sweat as he patched up an old satellite dish. He looked up when they entered.
"Took you long enough," he grunted. "Thought I was gonna die of boredom or heatstroke."
Grimm tossed him a water bottle. "You look good for a dead man."
Bull cracked a rare grin. "Still ugly, though."
Reyes plugged in the drive, linking it to the main terminal. Lines of data scrolled fast—encrypted files, Phantom protocols, internal memos. He adjusted his glasses as he began sorting.
"Okay, we've got something. The drive's partial—Cipher really did wipe most of the mainframe, but I'm seeing fragments of a field op list. Code names, target zones... one keeps popping up."
Volkova leaned in. "Where?"
Reyes hesitated. "Singapore."
Grimm frowned. "That's Helix's regional command hub."
"Not just that," Reyes said. "There's something called Breakpoint tagged in multiple files. Looks like some kind of project phase. Whatever it is, they're planning to activate it soon."
Volkova crossed her arms. "We just crippled one arm of the Phantom system. They're accelerating the rest."
Grimm turned toward Bull. "Get the weapons loaded. We go wheels up in two hours."
Bull raised a brow. "You're hitting Singapore? That's a fortress."
Grimm's voice was cold. "Then we're bringing siege engines."
Reyes stood, stretching his back. "I'm patching into civilian satellite feeds now. Trying to grab any chatter or movement from the Helix compound."
Grimm nodded. "Do it. Anything unusual, let me know."
As Reyes got to work, Volkova pulled Grimm aside, voice low. "We're running blind. Again."
Grimm met her gaze. "Not blind. Just one step behind."
"Which is enough to get us all killed," she shot back. "We need help."
"I know."
There was a pause.
"Reaper calling Phantom…" Grimm muttered, recalling Cipher's words. The AI was still out there—partially crippled, maybe, but not dead. Which meant someone, somewhere, was keeping it alive.
Maybe even feeding it.
"You think Cipher's still watching us?" Volkova asked.
"I'm counting on it."
As if on cue, Reyes let out a low whistle. "Uh… boss? You'll want to see this."
Grimm and Volkova moved back to the terminal. On screen was a single decrypted message. No sender. No trace.
IF YOU WANT TO STOP BREAKPOINT, YOU'LL NEED A KEY.I'LL DELIVER IT IN SINGAPORE.COME ALONE. OR EVERYONE DIES.
Reyes blinked. "Tell me that's not real."
"It's Cipher," Grimm said. "It has to be."
Volkova shook her head. "Could be a trap."
"It is a trap," Grimm said. "But it's also a lead."
Bull joined them, folding his massive arms. "You go in alone, you won't make it ten steps."
"I won't be going in blind," Grimm replied. "You three hit their external grid, cause a blackout. I'll meet the contact under cover."
Reyes looked nervous. "And if it's Kessler waiting with a kill team?"
"Then I'll take a few of them with me."
A heavy silence followed.
Then Volkova spoke. "You're still carrying that old field code, aren't you? 'No man left behind.'"
Grimm nodded. "Because we don't leave people behind. That's what separates us from the monsters we're hunting."
Bull grunted. "Alright then. Let's burn another city."
Reyes sighed. "Guess I'm not sleeping tonight."
Grimm turned to the wall rack and pulled down a battered black ops rucksack—his Reaper kit, sealed since the ambush that started all this.
It was time to put it back on.
As he loaded gear into the bag, he looked up at the team. His voice was steady.
"We're not just stopping a war. We're rewriting the rules. Kessler wanted ghosts. So we'll haunt him."
He slung the bag over his shoulder.
"Next stop—Singapore."