The compound had been invisible for eleven years.
Nestled three hundred miles from the nearest city, buried in mountain terrain so hostile that satellites couldn't find it and search parties couldn't survive it, it existed in the spaces between maps—a black site that had swallowed secrets and soldiers alike without leaving so much as a whisper.
Twenty miles of unmarked wilderness surrounded it. No roads. No flight paths. No breadcrumbs for the curious to follow.
The only way in was through forests that had claimed more lives than anyone bothered to count, across ridges where the wind could freeze a man solid in minutes, through valleys where the shadows seemed to move with intentions of their own.
Fifty soldiers called it home.
Fifty men and women who had traded their names for numbers, their identities for purpose, their humanity for something they believed was greater than any single life.
