Randoft lay motionless on the cold concrete, his long hair spread across the bloodstained floor. Broken glass and spent shell casings surrounded him, while faint rays of sunlight filtered through the shattered ceiling, casting long shadows across the ruined studio.
A low groan escaped his lips as consciousness slowly returned. Every muscle in his body ached from the beating Gary had given him, and even the simple act of sitting up sent a sharp pain through his ribs.
A pair of polished black shoes stopped before him.
Randoft slowly lifted his head. Standing in front of him was a man dressed entirely in black, his face concealed beneath the shadows. Only his mouth was visible as he extended a gloved hand.
"Randoft... Mr. E is expecting you," the man said calmly.
Ignoring the offered hand, Randoft forced himself onto one knee and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. His eyes remained fixed on the stranger, burning with suspicion.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice rough with anger.
"If you come with me, he'll save you," the man replied without hesitation. "For now, we need to leave before the authorities arrive."
Randoft frowned, refusing to let his guard down.
"How can I trust you?"
The man lowered his hand and glanced toward the distant hallway, where the faint sound of approaching police sirens echoed through the building.
"You may not have betrayed Monarch," he said calmly, "but I'm certain he'll kill you for failing this mission. Mr. E, however, is willing to save you... and help you finish what you started."
Silence settled between them.
Outside, the sound of helicopters and emergency vehicles grew louder with each passing second. Time was running out.
The stranger looked back at Randoft.
"Come. Before the authorities get here."
Randoft clenched his fists, the image of Gary flashing through his mind. Hatred burned in his eyes, but he knew the man standing before him was right.
After a brief moment of hesitation, he gave a slow nod.
"...Fine."
Without another word, he followed the mysterious man into the shadows. Moments later, the two disappeared from the ruined studio, leaving nothing behind but silence as the authorities closed in.
Meanwhile, on the rooftop, the steel door leading from the stairwell swung open as Delta Company emerged one by one. Their boots landed quietly against the concrete, rifles raised and eyes scanning every corner of the rooftop. The steady roar of the Black Hawks faded into the distance, replaced by the crackle of distant gunfire echoing from inside the studio.
Major Gabrielle "Dark Joker" Lopez raised a clenched fist, signaling the entire team to halt. The operators immediately froze in formation as he gestured for two men to move forward.
With practiced precision, the two operators took their positions on either side of the rooftop access door. One counted silently with his fingers while the other tightened his grip on his rifle. On the signal, they swung the door open and quickly cleared both sides.
"Clear."
Gab stepped through first, his pump-action shotgun held firmly against his shoulder. The rest of Delta Company followed in disciplined formation, securing the rooftop before forming a semicircle around their commander.
"Team," Gab began, his calm voice carrying through the tense silence. "We'll split into five divisions—Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta, and Echo. Stay with the same teams assigned in the helicopters."
His eyes swept across every operator.
"Our mission remains the same. Find any survivors and get them out safely. Eliminate any armed hostiles on sight, and search for explosives whenever possible. Delta Bomb Division is already en route and will handle any confirmed devices."
He paused for a moment before giving his final order.
"Report immediately if you make contact. Understood?"
"SIR, YES SIR!" the operators answered in perfect unison.
Gab gave a firm nod beneath his balaclava.
"Hoorah."
"HOORAH!"
Without another word, the operators dispersed across the rooftop, each division moving swiftly toward its assigned entry point. Within seconds, Delta Company disappeared into the smoke-filled studio, beginning their mission to reclaim the battlefield.
Team Alpha entered the atrium with their weapons raised, their movements precise and coordinated. The once-grand open space was now a battlefield, with shattered glass scattered across the floor, damaged furniture, and the remains of the mercenary assault left behind.
Major Gabrielle "Dark Joker" Lopez raised his fist, signaling the team to halt.
The operators immediately stopped and spread out, scanning every corner of the atrium. Their rifles moved slowly as they checked for any remaining threats.
Gab looked around the destruction with a serious expression beneath his balaclava.
"Who could've done this?" he muttered.
He turned his attention back to his team.
"Any mercenaries still breathing?"
One by one, the operators reported.
"Negative, sir."
"Negative."
"Area clear."
Gab remained silent for a moment, analyzing the scene before finally giving another hand signal.
"Alright. Keep moving, team."
Team Alpha continued forward, disappearing deeper into the studio while maintaining their formation.
Meanwhile, Team Bravo moved through another section of the building, clearing each room carefully. Doors were opened one by one, corners were checked, and every possible hiding spot was searched.
"Clear."
"Nothing here."
The reports continued until they reached another room.
One of the operators slowly opened the door.
Inside, they found a hostage situation.
A mercenary stood behind a female Delta operator, holding a pistol toward her while using her as leverage. The moment the door opened, the operators froze.
"NOBODY MOVES!" the mercenary shouted desperately. "One of your own dies if you take another step!"
The room became silent.
The mercenary grabbed the operator's mask and pulled it away, revealing a woman with short hair and a calm expression. Unlike him, she showed no fear.
The mercenary smirked.
"Oh... you have a pretty face."
Before he could react, the female operator moved.
She drove her elbow into his side, breaking his focus. In one smooth motion, she turned around, struck him across the face, and followed with a quick strike that forced him backward.
The mercenary stumbled, and she immediately took control of the situation, restraining him until he could no longer fight back.
The room went quiet.
She picked up her HK416 with attachments from the ground and secured her weapon.
One of the operators gave her a small nod of approval.
She returned the gesture, placed her balaclava back over her face, and rejoined the formation.
"Let's move."
Team Bravo continued their operation, clearing the building room by room.
The battle was far from over.
Team Charlie advanced through the studio with disciplined precision, clearing each room one at a time. Every operator remained patient, expecting armed hostiles behind every door as they exchanged silent nods before breaching.
Most of the rooms were empty, while others still held scattered mercenaries trying to hide. Suppressed gunfire echoed through the hallways, followed by silence as each hostile was swiftly neutralized before they could react.
Meanwhile, Team Delta moved toward the emergency exits, carefully inspecting every corridor they passed. More fallen mercenaries lay scattered across the floor alongside the bodies of security guards who had died defending the studio.
The lead operator, Sergeant Dakota, suddenly raised his fist.
The team immediately halted.
Dakota's attention shifted toward an air vent mounted along the wall. Keeping his rifle ready, he slowly crouched and removed the metal cover.
His expression remained calm.
Inside the vent was a compact explosive device.
"Confirmed," Dakota said over the radio. "We have a bomb."
He pressed the transmit button.
"Come in, Dark Joker. This is Team Delta. We've located an explosive device in the west wing of the studio."
A brief burst of static answered before Gab's voice came through.
"Copy that, Sergeant Dakota. I'll notify the Bomb Division and send them to your location. Hold your position and do not attempt to disarm it until they arrive."
"Copy, sir."
Dakota released the radio and turned to his team.
"Cover every entrance and exit. Nobody gets near this area."
"Yes, sir!"
The operators immediately spread out, securing the perimeter while keeping watch over the corridor.
Elsewhere, Team Echo entered the conference room, their rifles sweeping across the spacious interior. Four dead mercenaries and six fallen security guards lay motionless across the floor, evidence of another fierce firefight that had already ended.
The operators continued clearing the room before discovering four frightened civilians hiding beneath overturned tables. They quickly escorted them toward a secure evacuation route before resuming their search.
One operator paused beside a large decorative planter.
Something hidden beneath the leaves caught his attention.
Private Jayson crouched and carefully pulled out a black duffel bag. He slowly unzipped it, revealing another explosive device identical to the one Team Delta had discovered.
Without wasting a second, he reached for his radio.
"Come in, Dark Joker. This is Team Echo. We've located another bomb in the north conference room. Over."
"Copy, Private Jayson," Gab replied immediately. "Bomb Division is en route to your position. Hold your ground and secure the area until they arrive."
"Copy that, Major Gabrielle."
Jayson lowered the radio and turned toward his team.
"Listen up! Secure the perimeter. Lock down every entrance and exit. We have a confirmed explosive device. Stay sharp and hold your positions."
"Yes, sir!"
Within seconds, Team Echo moved into defensive positions, covering every access point while waiting for the Bomb Division to arrive.
Throughout the studio, Delta Company continued tightening its control of the battlefield. One floor at a time, they searched for survivors, eliminated remaining threats, and uncovered the hidden dangers left behind by the mercenaries.
Meanwhile, in the atrium, Major Gabrielle "Dark Joker" Lopez and Team Alpha continued clearing the middle level of the studio. The shattered hall echoed with distant gunfire and the occasional crackle of burning debris, while the smell of smoke lingered heavily in the air.
Gab raised two fingers before pointing toward the surrounding offices.
The operators immediately understood.
Without a word, Team Alpha split off to clear separate rooms while Gab advanced alone toward the office in the center of the corridor. His pump-action shotgun remained trained on the doorway as he slowly pushed it open.
Creeeak...
Darkness greeted him.
Only a few damaged ceiling lights flickered overhead, casting unstable shadows across the room. Broken furniture lay scattered across the floor, and the silence inside felt unnaturally heavy.
Gab stepped inside.
Then—
A powerful hand shot out from the darkness.
Before he could react, his shotgun was knocked aside as the unseen attacker grabbed the front of his tactical vest and hurled him deeper into the room.
Gab slammed against the floor, rolling instinctively before recovering into a fighting stance.
His eyes locked onto the figure emerging from the shadows.
A towering mercenary.
His face was concealed behind a mask painted with the American flag and a distorted smile. A forest camouflage vest covered his massive frame, while crossed ammunition belts stretched across his broad chest like armor.
The giant charged.
A heavy right hook tore through the air.
Gab pivoted left just before the punch connected and drove a sharp jab into the mercenary's ribs.
Without hesitation, he followed with a powerful kick aimed at the inside of the man's thigh.
The mercenary barely reacted.
Gab's expression hardened.
Before he could create more distance, the giant's enormous hand clamped around his face.
Gab's feet left the ground.
With terrifying strength, the mercenary lifted him effortlessly and hurled him across the room.
CRASH!
Gab smashed through a wooden wall, splinters exploding in every direction.
He landed hard before quickly tearing off his damaged helmet and balaclava, spitting blood onto the floor as he pushed himself back to his feet.
His breathing steadied.
His fists slowly rose into a fighting stance.
The mercenary rushed him again.
This time, Gab struck first.
A right hook.
A left cross.
The giant answered with another devastating swing.
Gab slipped to the outside, narrowly avoiding the blow before spotting an opening beneath the mercenary's guard. He drove a quick punch into the exposed ribs, then feinted a right kick.
The giant shifted his weight to block it.
Instead, Gab whipped his left leg into the inside of the mercenary's support leg.
For the first time, the massive man lost his balance.
His upper body dipped forward, bringing his face within Gab's reach.
Gab instantly fired a sharp right jab toward his jaw.
For a brief second...
He thought he had him.
Then the mercenary's hand shot downward.
He seized Gab's leg.
Gab's eyes widened.
With a violent pull, the giant ripped him off his feet before lifting him overhead as if he weighed nothing.
A heartbeat later—
BOOM!
Gab's body crashed into another wall, sending chunks of concrete and dust raining across the room.
he struggled to push himself upright, every muscle in his body protesting the effort. Dust drifted through the air as he fixed his eyes on the towering mercenary, whose massive silhouette remained unmoved despite the punishment he had taken.
"...Are you even human?" Gab asked between ragged breaths.
The giant slowly drew a combat knife from the sheath on his vest. Beneath the mask painted with the American flag and twisted smile, a deep voice answered with a heavy Russian accent.
"Yes... my comrade."
Gab let out a tired breath and gave a faint, exhausted smile.
"Ah... that explains it."
Without another word, the mercenary charged.
"Now die, comrade!"
The giant crashed into Gab, driving him onto the floor. The knife plunged downward as Gab caught the mercenary's wrist with both hands, his arms trembling violently under the overwhelming strength pressing against him.
The blade inched closer.
Closer.
Gab gritted his teeth, every ounce of strength fading as the mercenary's weight crushed him against the broken concrete.
Then—
BANG!
A single rifle shot echoed through the room.
The mercenary froze.
For a heartbeat, everything stood still.
A burst of blood sprayed across Gab's face as the giant's grip loosened. His body went limp before collapsing beside him with a heavy thud that shook the floor.
Gab lay there for a moment, breathing heavily as he stared at the motionless body.
Footsteps approached.
He slowly looked up.
A young female operator lowered her HK416 before removing her balaclava, revealing a woman no older than twenty-three. Her expression remained calm despite the intensity of the fight.
"Yeah..." Gab muttered between breaths, wiping the blood from his face. "...Thanks, Private Celina."
She immediately crouched beside him.
"Major, are you alright?"
Gab closed his eyes for a brief moment before letting out a weary chuckle.
"...Yeah."
He slowly accepted the hand she offered.
"I'm fine."
"Thanks Celina" He says it while holding his back.
Meanwhile.. The ground floor of the Studios erupted into controlled chaos as the Western Intelligence Agency's Bomb Unit arrived alongside several S.W.A.T. teams. Clad in black tactical gear and armed with various weapons, the officers stormed through the entrance and quickly secured the perimeter while keeping watch for any remaining threats.
Four bomb technicians moved in behind the security cordon, their dark green bomb suits standing out among the sea of black uniforms. Across their backs were the bold white letters:
WESTERN INTELLIGENCE AGENCY BOMB UNIT.
Protected by W.I.A. operators and S.W.A.T. personnel, they advanced deeper into the building with steady, disciplined steps.
A W.I.A. team leader carrying an M4A1 fitted with an optic raised his hand and signaled for the formation to split. The surrounding operators immediately broke into their assigned elements, moving with practiced precision as they prepared to secure multiple sections of the Studios.
"Where's the bomb?" Jerry asked calmly from inside his heavy bomb suit.
"The coordinates have already been uploaded to your wrist devices," the team leader replied in a firm, commanding tone. "You'll rendezvous with the teams stationed there and neutralize any explosives you find. Team B will escort the Bomb Unit and divide into three elements once they reach their objectives."
The operator glanced toward the rest of his men before raising his rifle.
"Team A, with me!"
"YES, SIR!" the operators answered in unison.
Without another word, Jerry and the other bomb technicians moved out alongside Team B while Team A headed toward a different sector of the building. Around them, boots pounded against the floor as the operation entered its next phase, every second bringing them closer to the bombs hidden somewhere within the Studios.
Parking Lot – The Studios, Los Angeles, California
The parking lot had fallen eerily silent.
Randoft followed the unidentified man through the darkness, their footsteps echoing faintly across the empty concrete. The chaos inside the Studios felt distant now, replaced by an unsettling calm that hung over the deserted lot.
Waiting near the far end was a black Hyundai van, its dark silhouette barely visible beneath the dim parking lights. Around it stood several armed men wearing tactical vests and balaclavas, their rifles slung across their chests as they maintained a vigilant watch.
Without exchanging a word, Randoft stepped inside the vehicle. The unidentified man entered after him, and the sliding door shut with a heavy metallic thud.
A moment later, the engine came to life.
The van pulled away from the shadows and disappeared into the night, leaving the Studios behind as if it had never been there at all.
West Wing Vent – The Studios, Los Angeles, California
Team Delta and Team B secured the corridor while the Bomb Unit moved into position around the device hidden inside the ventilation shaft. The atmosphere had changed completely; the gunfire had faded, replaced by a suffocating tension that seemed to weigh on every operator present.
Sergeant Dakota stood nearby, keeping watch while relaying updates through his radio. A few meters ahead, Jerry crouched beside the bomb, carefully examining every wire, component, and connection hidden beneath its casing.
The bomb technician's expression hardened.
His eyes followed a bundle of wires disappearing into the darkness of the vent.
"It's connected to another device," Jerry said quietly.
Dakota felt his stomach tighten.
"Can you stop it, Jerry?" he asked.
Jerry remained focused on the explosive as he studied the mechanism before him.
"Yes," he replied calmly. "But it requires a careful procedure. Sergeant Dakota, I need your team to withdraw approximately twenty blocks from this location."
Dakota didn't hesitate.
"Copy that, sir."
He turned toward the operators securing the corridor.
"TEAM DELTA, FALL BACK! ESTABLISH A SECURITY PERIMETER TWENTY BLOCKS FROM THIS POSITION!"
The operators immediately acknowledged the order. Those covering the entrances rose from their positions while the rest began pulling back alongside Team B, leaving only the Bomb Unit behind.
Within moments, the once-crowded corridor had become nearly empty.
Dakota glanced back one last time.
Jerry remained kneeling beside the bomb, illuminated by the cold glow of his equipment as he carefully began the delicate task before him.
A bead of sweat rolled down Jerry's forehead as he studied the bomb hidden within the ventilation shaft. The device was far more complex than he had initially expected, and every passing second only reinforced the danger they were facing.
His radio crackled to life.
"Jerry, we have a problem here. The bombs are connected, roger." Ricky's voice came through the comms.
Jerry let out a slow breath as he kept his eyes on the exposed circuitry.
"I know, Ricky. I know. But we need to do this carefully, or we die."
"Roger that, Jerry. I'll inform the others if they find anything else."
"Roger that."
The transmission ended.
Jerry adjusted his position and continued examining the device, his gloved hands moving carefully over the bomb's casing. One mistake was all it would take.
Atrium – The Studios, Los Angeles, California
The once-grand atrium had become a battlefield.
Broken glass littered the floor, overturned furniture lay scattered across the area, and the bodies of fallen mercenaries remained where they had dropped. Team Alpha maintained a tight security perimeter while keeping watch for any remaining hostiles.
Nearby, Major Gabrielle "Dark Joker" Lopez leaned against a damaged pillar.
His tactical gear was scratched and stained with blood, while a dull ache continued to pulse through his back from his encounter with the massive mercenary. Beside him stood Private Celina, remaining close in case the Major's condition worsened.
Gab pressed a finger against his earpiece.
"Sergeant Dakota, Private Jayson. What's the situation?"
Dakota answered first.
"Negative, sir. The Bomb Unit has arrived, but we've got another problem. The bombs are connected. Jerry and the other technicians are working on it now."
A second voice followed.
"Unfortunately, same here, Major. All indications suggest the devices are linked together. Here's my theory, sir—this entire terrorist attack was coordinated. It's almost like they intended to blow up the Studios."
Gab remained silent for a moment.
"Or they're trying to kill someone," he finally said. "But we don't have enough evidence to support that yet."
"Copy that, sir."
The radio went quiet briefly before Dakota spoke again.
"How's Team Alpha in the atrium, Major?"
"Everything's under control here, Sergeant."
A chuckle came through the comms.
"How about you, Major?" Jayson asked.
Gab winced as pain shot through his back.
"Barely."
There was a pause.
"Barely?" Dakota asked.
Gab sighed.
"Fought the Hulk and got thrown around."
Then, an awkward silence followed.
Beverly Hills, Allysa's Mansion — Los Angeles, California
Miguel remained seated on the couch in the spacious living room, surrounded by modern furniture and the quiet activity of the mansion's staff. Wearing a tank top and cargo pants, he kept his eyes fixed on the front door, his posture cautious as the maids continued working in the kitchen behind him.
Outside, the afternoon was bright and peaceful, with birds chirping beneath the clear sky. In the wide-open garden, Zion stood guard, slowly scanning the surroundings and keeping a watchful eye over every corner of the property.
Inside, Bernard descended the staircase wearing a black suit and necktie, his slicked-back hair neatly in place. He was already preparing to leave for the Studios, his concern for Allysa evident despite the calmness in his voice.
"Alejandro," Bernard called as he reached the bottom of the stairs.
"Sir?" Miguel answered, turning toward him.
"I'm going to the Studios right now. I need to see if Allysa is okay," Bernard said, his voice calm but filled with concern.
"Sir, do you need a guard with you?" Miguel asked.
"Yes. I need Scarlet. Where is she?"
"In her room, Sir Bernard," Miguel replied calmly.
"Alright. I'll go there myself. Thank you."
Bernard immediately turned and hurried back upstairs toward Scarlet's room.
Meanwhile, Celine remained inside her bedroom, gathering her hair into a ponytail. She secured it with a string, smoothing the loose strands into place before a knock suddenly came from the door.
"Wait a minute," she called.
She walked over and opened the door.
Standing outside was Bernard.
"Sir Bernard, sir," Celine said, straightening slightly in a military-style greeting.
"Scarlet, we're going to the Studios to see how Allysa is doing," Bernard said calmly. "Get prepared."
"As in right now?" Celine asked.
This is my chance to get to Gary... she thought.
"Yes. Right now, Scarlet," Bernard replied.
"Alright. I'll just grab my jacket."
Celine hurried back into her room and retrieved a denim jacket. She slipped it on before securing her pistol and spare magazines inside the holster beneath it, carefully making sure they remained concealed.
"Alright, sir. I'm done," she said calmly.
Bernard gave a firm nod.
Without another word, the two of them headed downstairs together.
The Studios West Wing Vent— Los Angeles, California
Jerry, the W.I.A. bomb specialist, remained crouched beside the connected explosives, carefully studying the intricate wiring beneath his protective helmet. Sweat gathered beneath his heavy bomb suit as he leaned closer, examining each wire and connection with extreme caution.
"Hmm... these wires," Jerry muttered.
His gloved fingers hovered over the circuitry before gently tracing one of the connections. His eyes narrowed as he studied the mechanism, slowly beginning to understand how the devices were designed.
"This bomb could have been connected to a detonator..." he said quietly. His gaze shifted across the device. "But where's the detonator?"
Jerry immediately reached for his radio.
"Team Alpha?"
A moment later, Gab's voice came through the comms.
"Bomb Jerry, what's the status? Can you stop the bomb?" Gab asked, a hint of anxiety present in his voice despite his otherwise composed tone.
"Yes, sir, but we need to find the detonator first," Jerry replied clearly. "If we locate it, we can stop the entire system."
"Alright," Gab answered firmly. "I'll send a few troops to search for the detonator and bring it to you."
"Alright. Roger that."
Jerry lowered his radio and returned his attention to the explosive device. He carefully examined the wiring again, knowing that somewhere inside the Studios was the mechanism that could determine whether everyone walked out alive.
Back in the atrium, Gab stood among the gathered W.I.A. personnel. A small wound remained on his head from his earlier encounter with the massive mercenary, with a few strands of his broken hair hanging loosely around the injury, but he remained composed despite the pain.
Around him, W.I.A. personnel continued assisting the remaining civilians and survivors trapped inside the Studios. Gab watched them for a moment before raising his voice.
"Team, listen up!"
The operators immediately gathered around him, except for those who remained behind to assist the civilians.
"We need to find the detonator," Gab ordered. "Search every area of these Studios. We'll use the same teams as before—Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, and Delta—to locate it."
He paused, allowing the order to settle before pointing toward the different sections of the building.
"Go find your teams. ASAP!"
"SIR, YES SIR!" the operators shouted in unison.
The teams immediately began moving through the atrium, splitting toward their assigned sectors as they prepared to search every corner of the Studios.
Dakota and Jerrick moved with their respective operators, disappearing into the damaged corridors as the search for the detonator began.
Behind them, Gab remained in the atrium, his eyes following the teams as they disappeared into the building. And the search is on.