Episode 4 – The First Assignment
Colonel Seraphine Dax's eyes pinned Daniel like a blade.
She circled the atrium slowly, boots clicking against polished steel, gaze flicking from the training operatives still recovering to the rifle Daniel still held loosely in his grip. Every movement of hers was sharp, deliberate, meant to cut.
"Daniel Rourke," she said finally, the name sharp as a blade. "Former Staff Sergeant. 22nd Infantry. Deployed three tours, then burned out in Helmand Province. Left for dead by your own command."
Her words landed like hammer blows. Daniel didn't flinch.
"You carry the creed of a soldier who failed," Dax continued. "Always bring your partner home alive." She opened a file . Inside were photos—grainy images of a battlefield, body bags lined in the dirt, blood soaking sand. His unit. His partner.
Daniel's jaw clenched. He had seen those pictures a thousand times in his nightmares.
"You couldn't bring him home," she pressed. "So tell me, why should I believe you won't fail again?"
He held her gaze. His voice was gravel. "Because I survived what killed him. And I've lived every day since with that weight. I don't break twice."
Dax's lips curved, not in approval, but recognition. "Good answer. But words are cheap."
Kane watched from the shadows, unreadable. Marcus stood still as stone, letting the moment stretch.
Dax turned away, pacing like a predator. "This man isn't fit for Aegis Core. He's unstable. Haunted. He carries ghosts instead of orders. Out there, ghosts get you killed. Or worse—they get your team killed."
Daniel spoke before he could stop himself. "You think I'm unstable? Try watching your commander abandon you in the field. Try being told you don't matter. Then tell me what stable looks like."
Silence. Sharp.
Dax turned back, eyes narrowing. "Then prove it. Show me you're not a liability. Because right now, you are not liabilities. And I don't trust liabilities."
Daniel's eyes narrowed. "So why keep me breathing?"
Dax's stare sharpened into something colder. "Because Marcus is betting on you. And I'm here to prove him wrong."
Marcus finally stepped forward, his presence cutting the air. " his calm presence filling the space like shadow and command. He looked between them, reading the air instantly.
"Enough," Marcus said, his tone leaving no room for defiance. "Rourke's interrogation ends here."
Dax's mouth tightened but she didn't argue.
Marcus turned to Daniel. "You want to prove you're more than disposable? You get your chance tonight."
---
The convoy rolled through downtown under heavy banners and protest smoke. Daniel sat in the back of a black armored SUV, suit jacket stiff on his shoulders, rifle broken down in the case at his feet. Beside him, Kane adjusted his cufflinks, his composure as sharp as ever. Across from them, Dax sat stone-silent, her eyes fixed on Daniel like a scalpel.
Outside, voices roared. Protesters filled the streets, waving signs and screaming chants. Police barricades strained against the surge.
Their client sat in the lead car, flanked by Aegis Core shields. Senator Roland Harker—gray-haired, smug, and hated by half the city. His policies had sparked riots. His security detail had already been compromised once. Tonight was his rally, his attempt to claw back control.
And Daniel's first assignment was keeping him alive.
Kane checked his watch. "We'll offload at the civic plaza. Perimeter secured. But expect fireworks. Half this city wants Harker's head."
Dax cut in without looking away from Daniel. "Perfect chance to see if our new recruit folds when the crowd turns ugly."
Daniel said nothing. He loaded the creed into his chest like a round into a chamber. Bring them home alive.
---
The plaza was a boiling sea of sound. Spotlights cut the night. Protest chants clashed with cheers from Harker's supporters. Placards waved. Bottles shattered. The air buzzed with tension, ready to snap.
Daniel moved with the detail, scanning rooftops, windows, crowd edges. Every motion drilled from years of combat came back alive. Harker strode toward the stage, soaking in the noise, waving with a politician's arrogance.
Daniel muttered into comms, "Rooftop, east side, two silhouettes. Watch them."
Kane's voice crackled back. "Already on it."
But something gnawed at Daniel—too many blind spots, too many hands hidden in the crowd. He shifted closer to Harker, instincts screaming.
Then it happened.
A sharp crack. Not a firework. A rifle shot.
The senator's microphone shattered, sparks flying. The crowd erupted in screams. Chaos detonated across the plaza.
"Sniper!" Kane barked. "East roof!"
Bullets rained. Supporters stampeded. Protesters surged. The barricades collapsed into violence.
Daniel shoved Harker down behind the podium, shielding him with his body. Another shot cracked, inches from his head.
"Move!" Daniel roared. He dragged the senator offstage, muscling through the crush of panicked bodies. Dax and Kane flanked tight, their weapons flashing. Operatives fired back, covering the retreat.
But the crowd became its own enemy—thousands of bodies, screaming, shoving, trampling. Someone hurled a Molotov. Flames roared against the barricade.
Harker stumbled, face white with terror. Daniel gripped his arm like iron. "On your feet, Senator. I'm not carrying you."
Another burst cracked overhead. Glass shattered. The sniper wasn't alone.
---
They burst into the side alley, breathless, gunfire echoing behind. Kane barked into his comms: "Secondary convoy, move now! South exit!"
But as the SUV screeched into view, Daniel's gut twisted. Too fast. Too perfect. The rear door already open, waiting.
"Trap!" he snarled. He yanked Harker back just as muzzle flashes lit from the SUV interior. Bullets tore the brick around them.
Daniel drove the senator to the ground, rolling behind a concrete pillar. Sparks flew inches from his face.
Dax was already moving, her pistol snapping precise shots. Two assailants fell from the vehicle. Kane covered the other flank, deadly calm even in chaos.
Daniel rose in the gap, rifle tight, and fired in ruthless bursts until the ambushers folded. The SUV burned in silence, flames licking.
Then the square fell eerily quiet. Police sirens wailed in the distance. The rally was over, drowned in smoke and screams.
---
Minutes later, in the safety of an underground garage, Senator Harker clutched a bottle of water with trembling hands. His suit was torn, his face ashen. But he was alive.
Marcus Veyra stood nearby, immaculate as ever, watching the client with cold detachment. "You'll make your speech tomorrow from a safer platform, Senator. Tonight you owe your survival to my men. Don't forget it."
Harker nodded rapidly, too shaken to argue.
Marcus turned then, his gaze locking on Daniel. "You kept him breathing when half the city wanted him dead. That's not luck. That's discipline."
Daniel said nothing, sweat cooling on his neck, rifle still warm in his hands.
But Dax stepped forward, her stare drilling into him. "He did well tonight. But don't mistake instinct for loyalty, Marcus. He saved Harker because it was his creed—not because it was ours."
Daniel met her eyes. Hard. Unflinching. "You're right. I don't fight for your politics. I fight to keep people alive."
Dax's mouth twitched in something between contempt and respect. "We'll see how far that creed carries you."
Marcus smiled faintly, his shadowed approval sealing the night. "Welcome to the war, Mr. Rourke. From now on, every client you protect will test not just your skill, but your soul."
Daniel exhaled, his hands steady, his creed burning hotter than ever. Always bring them home alive.
For the first time, he wondered: what if the people he protected didn't deserve to come home at all?
---
As the garage doors rolled shut, Kane's earpiece crackled. His face darkened.
He turned to Marcus. "We've got a bigger problem. The ambush wasn't freelance. We traced the shooters' comms. They were on our channels."
Marcus's smile vanished. Dax's eyes sharpened.
Daniel froze. His first mission, his first survival—and already, Aegis Core had a traitor in its ranks.