[Sokovia]
The room fell silent for a moment, not completely, because the civilians were still shouting and banging to keep the noise level high, but among the fighters, a heavy stillness settled. Liam's words had landed hard. Some people flinched. Some looked away. Some clenched their fists. But no one argued.
Because deep down, all of them knew he was right.
The old leader slowly lowered his gaze to the pistol in his hand. His voice was quiet when he spoke.
"...Alright," he whispered. "We will fight."
His wife took a trembling breath and nodded. Pietro swallowed, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and whispered something in Sokovian under his breath, probably a prayer or a promise.
Wanda, who had guided the children to the safe corner, looked back at them. Her face was tense, but it also showed something stronger: determination, responsibility, a need to protect.
She looked at Liam and said softly, "Tell us what to do next."
Liam took a breath and looked at everyone, the frightened civilians, the handful of fighters, Wanda and Pietro trying their best not to panic. His voice was steady when he spoke.
"Here is how we survive," Liam said. "Stefan and I will hold the front entrance. Anyone Black Ridge sends inside will have to get past us first."
Steve, using the fake name Stefan, nodded in assurance.
Liam continued, pointing toward the back of the warehouse and toward Natasha.
"Nadia will take charge of the back exit. If anyone tries to break through there, she will stop them. She will need your help, to block the door and strike anyone who forces a way in."
Wanda and Pietro exchanged a nervous look. The other Dawn Watch fighters swallowed hard, getting ready for the imminent fight.
Natasha, Nadia for tonight, gave a sharp nod and motioned for those assigned to her to follow. The older leader, his wife, and two of the sturdier Dawn Watch volunteers moved with her, keeping low as they made their way across the warehouse. She guided them behind the stacked crates and metal shelves reinforcing the exit, their shadows flickering in the dim light as the noise of the civilians filled the space like a protective storm.
Once they were out of earshot of the main crowd, Natasha crouched and leaned in close, her voice low and deadly calm.
"Listen carefully," she whispered. "If they try the door, don't rush it. Don't push forward. Let them struggle with it first. That gives us time. If the door cracks open, don't run. You wait. You get one clean hit, one hard hit, right when the first man squeezes through. Aim for the throat, the face, the knee, whatever is exposed. Don't hesitate. Don't shout. Strike, then fall back behind cover. Force them to funnel in one at a time."
The older woman swallowed hard but nodded.
Natasha pointed to each of them in turn. "And no matter what happens, do not break formation. If one of you panics and runs, the whole line collapses. Stay behind the crates unless I tell you otherwise."
They all nodded again, as resolve hardened in their eyes.
Just as Natasha finished, a faint metallic clatter echoed through the warehouse.
Steve stiffened at Liam's side.
Liam's eyes snapped to the front door.
Someone outside was opening the lock.
The soft chk… chk… chk of metal scraping metal filled the air, barely audible over the civilians' chaotic shouting. But to the fighters, it sounded like thunder.
The handle finished lowering.
The lock clicked and the door cracked open.
And the very instant a Black Ridge soldier stepped through, rifle raised and eyes hard, Liam moved..
His palm snapped into the man's wrist, wrenching the rifle sideways. His other hand shot up, slamming into the man's throat. The soldier gagged and collapsed instantly.
Steve slipped past Liam like a shadow.
The second man barely had time to inhale before Steve's elbow crushed into his ribs. He dropped without a sound.
The third lunged in with his rifle half-raised.
Liam seized both sides of his collar, yanked him forward, and drove his forehead into the man's nose. A sharp crack echoed. The soldier crumpled instantly.
The fourth entered next, too confident and too slow. Steve grabbed him by the vest, spun him, and hammered a blow into the side of his neck. The man fell limp.
The fifth stumbled backward, finger tightening on his trigger, panic overriding training. Steve kicked the barrel of the rifle upward. The shot fired harmlessly into the ceiling. Liam swept the man's legs out from beneath him and put him down with a clean punch to the jaw.
The sixth soldier planted his feet, gripped his rifle tightly, and pulled the trigger.
Liam was faster.
His foot kicked the rifle sideways before the shot lined up. The bullet tore into the metal frame. Liam grabbed the man by the jacket, slammed him against the doorframe with brutal force, and let him fall bonelessly to the floor.
Six soldiers down.
No alarms.
No shots hitting anyone.
No communication equipment to warn the others.
Just two men dismantling a strike team with terrifying efficiency.
Steve exhaled once, steady and controlled.
"Front's clear."
Liam nodded. "Then we sweep the back."
They stepped over the unconscious bodies and walked out into the cold night air. Staying close to the wall, Liam motioned for Steve to follow him around the corner. They could hear angry voices coming from the back of the warehouse
Six more Black Ridge soldiers surrounded the back exit, trying desperately to force the barricaded door open. Two jammed a crowbar into the hinges. One rammed his shoulder into the door again and again.
None of them saw Liam and Steve coming.
Liam grabbed the closest man, yanked him backward, and locked an arm around his neck. A single twist dropped him silently to the ground.
Steve charged into the next two, smashing his forearm into one throat and driving a punch deep into the other's gut. Both collapsed instantly.
Another soldier spun around and raised his handgun. Liam's knee connected with his jaw before he could steady his aim. The weapon flew from his grip as he fell unconscious.
The fifth tried to flee. Steve caught him by the belt, yanked him backward, and slammed him face-first into the ground. The man lay still.
The sixth, the largest of the group, drew a gun and charged while firing wildly.
Liam angled sideways as a bullet sliced past his ribs. He grabbed the man's wrist, twisted it sharply, and forced the gun downward. The man roared in frustration and tried to overpower him, but Liam redirected the man's momentum and flipped him backward. The guy hit the ground hard, instantly unconscious.
Silence followed.
Twelve Black Ridge men down.
***
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