The transport vehicle that carried them toward the Borderlands was a masterpiece of deception—outwardly, it appeared to be a standard commercial maintenance truck, complete with corporate logos and work equipment. But beneath its mundane exterior lay advanced stealth technology and enough firepower to level a city block.
Kael sat in the passenger compartment, reviewing the mission files one final time while Elena checked their equipment. Across from them sat their third team member—a woman Kane had introduced simply as "Vera."
She was perhaps twenty-two years old, with the kind of lean, predatory build that suggested extensive combat training. Her dark hair was cut in a practical style, and her eyes held the same thousand-yard stare Kael had learned to recognize in veteran soldiers. But there was something else in those eyes—a coldness that went beyond professional detachment.
"First time working together," Vera said, her voice carrying a slight accent that Kael couldn't place. "Kane says you're both Iron Wolves veterans."
"Former Iron Wolves," Elena corrected. "We're freelance now."
Vera's smile was sharp. "Freelance. I like that. More honest than most of the labels people use in this business."
"What about you?" Kael asked. "What's your background?"
"Classified," Vera replied without hesitation. "Let's just say I have experience with the kind of work we're about to do."
The evasion was frustrating but not unexpected. Kane's organization operated on a need-to-know basis, and apparently, Kael and Elena didn't need to know about Vera's past.
"What I can tell you," Vera continued, "is that I've been inside Council facilities before. Their security is good, but it's not perfect. They rely too heavily on technology and not enough on human intuition."
She activated a small holographic projector, displaying a three-dimensional map of their target. "The key is to move with confidence. Act like you belong there, and most people will assume you do."
"And if someone gets suspicious?" Elena asked.
Vera's hand moved to the knife at her belt—a gesture so quick and natural that Kael almost missed it. "Then we deal with the problem quietly and move on."
The casual way she spoke about killing was unsettling. Kael had taken lives in combat, but it had never been easy, never been something he discussed with such detachment.
"Problem with that approach?" Vera asked, noticing his expression.
"Just wondering about your definition of 'quietly,'" Kael replied.
"Quietly means no alarms, no witnesses, no evidence. The target simply disappears, and by the time anyone notices, we're long gone."
Vera leaned back in her seat, her eyes studying both of them with calculating intensity. "Kane told me you two have personal reasons for opposing the Council. That's good—motivation is important in this line of work. But personal feelings can also be a liability if they interfere with mission objectives."
"Meaning?" Elena's voice carried a note of challenge.
"Meaning that if we encounter Council personnel during this mission, your first instinct might be to settle old scores rather than maintain operational security. That kind of thinking gets people killed."
Kael felt a flash of anger at the implication, but he forced himself to consider Vera's words objectively. She was right—his hatred for the Council could cloud his judgment if he wasn't careful.
"Point taken," he said finally. "Mission first, personal vendettas second."
"Good. Because this mission is more important than any of us realize."
The transport began to slow as they approached the Borderlands—a region of contested territory where government authority was minimal and mercenary groups operated with virtual impunity. Through the armored windows, Kael could see the landscape changing from urban decay to industrial wasteland.
"Final equipment check," Vera announced, opening a concealed weapons locker. "Remember, we're maintenance technicians. Our gear needs to support that cover story."
They changed into work coveralls and loaded their equipment into standard maintenance cases. The advanced weapons were hidden in false compartments, while their surveillance gear was disguised as diagnostic equipment.
"Comms check," Vera said, activating their encrypted communication system. "We'll maintain radio silence unless there's an emergency. If something goes wrong, the extraction point is here." She indicated a location on the map two miles from the target facility.
The transport stopped at a checkpoint manned by Council security forces—soldiers in advanced armor carrying military-grade weapons. Kael's heart rate increased as one of the guards approached their vehicle.
"Routine inspection," the driver said quietly. "Stay calm and let me do the talking."
The guard checked their credentials with professional efficiency, scanning their identification cards and work orders with a handheld device. For a moment that felt like an eternity, the scanner's screen remained blank.
Then it beeped softly, displaying green confirmation codes.
"You're cleared for entry," the guard said, handing back their documents. "Report to Building C for assignment coordination."
As they drove through the facility's main gate, Kael got his first close look at their target. The research station was larger than the satellite imagery had suggested—a complex of interconnected buildings surrounded by defensive perimeters and guard towers. Advanced surveillance equipment tracked their movement, and he could see patrol drones circling overhead.
"Impressive," Elena murmured.
"And expensive," Vera added. "Whatever they're researching here, the Council considers it a high priority."
They were directed to a parking area near Building C, where other maintenance vehicles were already stationed. As they unloaded their equipment, Kael noticed the other workers—all of them moved with the kind of professional competence that suggested extensive background checks and security clearances.
"Remember," Vera whispered as they approached the building entrance, "we're here to upgrade the environmental monitoring systems in Buildings D and F. Our work orders give us access to most of the facility, but we need to be careful not to attract attention."
The interior of Building C was sterile and functional—white walls, polished floors, and the kind of clinical atmosphere that suggested serious scientific work. They reported to the assignment coordinator, a harried-looking woman who barely glanced at their credentials before handing them access cards and facility maps.
"Buildings D and F," she said without looking up from her computer. "Environmental systems are on sub-levels two and three. You'll need escort authorization for any areas marked in red on your maps."
"How long do we have?" Vera asked.
"Forty-eight hours. The facility is going into lockdown mode for a VIP inspection, so all maintenance work needs to be completed before then."
As they left the coordination office, Kael studied the facility map. Buildings D and F were on opposite sides of the complex, which would give them access to a significant portion of the research areas.
"Split up or stay together?" Elena asked quietly.
"Split up," Vera decided. "We can cover more ground that way. Shadow, you take Building D. Storm and I will handle Building F."
Kael felt a moment of unease at being separated from Elena, but he recognized the tactical wisdom of Vera's decision. "Communication schedule?"
"Every two hours, unless there's an emergency. If anyone misses a check-in, we abort and head for extraction."
They separated at the main corridor, Kael heading toward Building D while Vera and Elena went in the opposite direction. As he walked through the facility, Kael was struck by the level of security—guards at every checkpoint, surveillance cameras covering every angle, and the constant presence of patrol drones.
Building D turned out to be a research laboratory focused on weapons development. Through reinforced windows, Kael could see scientists working with equipment he didn't recognize—devices that hummed with barely contained energy and cast strange shadows on the laboratory walls.
"Can I help you?" asked a voice behind him.
Kael turned to find a security guard approaching—young, alert, with the kind of professional bearing that suggested military training. "Environmental systems maintenance," Kael replied, showing his work order. "I need to access the sub-levels."
The guard checked his credentials, then escorted him to an elevator that required both a key card and biometric scan to operate. "Sub-level two," the guard said as the elevator descended. "You'll need an escort for sub-level three—that's a restricted area."
The elevator opened onto a corridor lined with environmental control systems—air handlers, filtration units, and monitoring equipment that maintained the precise atmospheric conditions required for sensitive research. It was exactly the kind of area where a maintenance technician would have legitimate business.
Kael began his work, using his genuine technical knowledge to perform actual maintenance while secretly installing surveillance devices in strategic locations. The equipment Kane had provided was remarkably sophisticated—micro-cameras and listening devices that were virtually undetectable once installed.
As he worked, he could hear conversations from the laboratories above—fragments of technical discussions that suggested the research was far more advanced than anyone had suspected. References to "energy field manipulation" and "quantum resonance weapons" painted a picture of technology that could revolutionize warfare.
"How's it going down there?" the guard called from the elevator.
"Almost finished," Kael replied, installing the last surveillance device behind an air filtration unit. "Just need to run some diagnostic tests."
The diagnostic equipment Kane had provided served a dual purpose—it actually tested the environmental systems while secretly downloading data from the facility's computer networks. As the device worked, Kael watched streams of classified information flow across its screen.
Research reports, personnel files, project timelines—a treasure trove of intelligence about the Council's weapons development programs. But one file in particular caught his attention: a personnel roster that included a familiar name.
Commander Thorne was scheduled to arrive with Dr. Ryn's inspection team.
The discovery hit Kael like a physical blow. The man who'd killed his father would be here, in this facility, within the next forty-eight hours. The opportunity for revenge was almost overwhelming.
But Vera's words echoed in his mind: *Personal feelings can be a liability if they interfere with mission objectives.*
Kael forced himself to focus on the mission, downloading the intelligence data and preparing to leave. Revenge would have to wait—for now.
"All finished," he called to the guard, packing up his equipment.
As the elevator carried him back to the surface, Kael's mind was already working through the implications of what he'd discovered. The Council's weapons research was more advanced than anyone had suspected, and the presence of both Dr. Ryn and Commander Thorne suggested that something significant was about to happen.
He needed to warn Vera and Elena, needed to share the intelligence he'd gathered. But first, he had to get out of Building D without arousing suspicion.
The guard escorted him back to the main corridor, where Kael made his way toward the rendezvous point. As he walked, he could feel the weight of the surveillance devices and data storage units hidden in his equipment case.
The mission was a success so far, but the real test was yet to come. They had the intelligence Kane needed, but they still had to get it out of the facility without being discovered.
And somewhere in the back of his mind, Kael couldn't stop thinking about Commander Thorne. The man who'd killed his father was coming here, to this place, within reach.
The temptation to abandon the mission and settle old scores was almost overwhelming. But Kael had learned discipline during his time with the Iron Wolves, and he'd learned patience from Marcus Kane.
Revenge would come, but it would come at the right time, in the right place, when he was strong enough to face the Crimson Serpents on equal terms.
For now, the mission came first. Everything else was secondary.
But as he walked through the sterile corridors of the Council facility, Kael Shadowborn allowed himself a small, cold smile.
The hunt was about to begin.