19:01
SNA Airbase, Volgograd, Russia
The airbase buzzed with the rhythm of war. Searchlights cut through the growing night, illuminating rows of soldiers tightening straps, checking rifles, and loading crates of ammunition into the bellies of waiting helicopters. The roar of rotors already filled the air as four MI-32 troop carriers warmed their engines on the flight line, each destined to carry squads of men and women into the jaws of battle.
Sohel, Mei, Annabelle, De Luca, Arina, Elina, and Mitali emerged from the command building, their silhouettes sharp under the floodlights. This time, they wore full combat gear—Kevlar-lined bodysuits with red seams, reinforced plate carriers, helmets with AR visors, rifles slung across their shoulders, and their sidearms holstered at their thighs. The insignia of the SNA, their national flags, and the Task Force 7 emblem gleamed faintly under the artificial lights.
Without a word, they boarded Athena. The giant VTOL shuddered as its engines ignited, its shadow falling across the tarmac. Moments later, five aircraft lifted off in formation—Athena at the point, four MI-32s staggered behind her. The night swallowed them as they banked south, leaving the Russian steppe behind and setting course for Iran.
23:10
A few miles from Liora's base, Dast-e-Kavir, Iran
The desert stretched endlessly below, pale sand shimmering under the moonlight. In the distance, Liora Schmidt's compound loomed—an isolated fortress surrounded by high walls, watchtowers, and the faint glow of electric lights.
Inside Athena, the atmosphere was tense but focused. Sohel adjusted his comms, his voice steady as he spoke into the headset. "Alpha 1 to all stations, how copy?"
One by one, confirmations crackled in his ear.
"Hunter 1, solid copy."
"Hunter 2, solid copy."
"Hunter 3, solid copy."
"Hunter 4, solid copy."
Sohel nodded, satisfied. "We reach the target base in three minutes. All four Hunter units will land and evacuate the hostages. Sergeant Mitali Roy, Sergeant Arina Sergeevna Kuznetsova—you're in charge of tending to the injured. Lieutenant Princess and Sergeant Tijiano Joaquin De Luca will provide air support from Athena. I, Captain Aphrodite, and Sergeant Elina Parker will go after Liora Schmidt. Do you understand your roles?"
The chorus of voices replied in unison through the comms. "Sir, yes, sir!"
"Good," Sohel said firmly.
Annabelle's voice chimed in, calm yet eager. "Major, we're ready to attack."
Sohel exhaled slowly, his tone even. "Operation Clean Slate is a go."
De Luca cracked his knuckles and leaned over the weapons console. "Copy that. Switching to EMP rounds." His fingers danced over the panel as the ammunition belts rotated and locked. "Forty-mike-mike autocannon primed."
AURA's synthesised voice confirmed in his ear: EMP shells loaded. Firing solution calculated.
"Firing in three… two… one."
The night erupted with fire. Athena's 40mm autocannons barked, spitting round after round into the compound below. Each shell detonated in mid-air with a concussive thump, releasing bursts of electromagnetic energy that rippled across the facility. Lights flickered, then died. Sirens choked into silence. The compound plunged into darkness as its electronic systems fried in an instant.
On cue, the four MI-32 helicopters swooped in, skimming just above the sand before flaring and touching down inside the perimeter. The ramps dropped, and SNA soldiers poured out, rifles raised, boots pounding against concrete.
From the shadows of the compound buildings, FNA defenders surged forward, weapons drawn, shouting orders in chaos. Muzzle flashes lit up the dark as the first volleys were exchanged. The air filled with the deafening chorus of gunfire, shouts, and explosions.
The Hunter units split seamlessly. Two squads charged toward the prisoner's compound, cutting down FNA soldiers with precise bursts, while the remaining two squads formed a defensive line in front of the main factory building, meeting the enemy head-on.
Above them, Athena hovered like a predator, its cannons swiveling and spitting fire at clustered groups of defenders. EMP rounds finished cycling, replaced by high-explosive shells that tore into sandbag emplacements and watchtowers. Each blast rattled the compound, throwing men and debris into the air.
The VTOL's ramp lowered again, and five figures descended into the fray. Mitali and Arina broke off instantly, sprinting toward the prisoners' compound with rifles slung low, ready to switch from combatants to healers at a moment's notice.
Sohel, Mei, and Elina moved in the opposite direction, slipping into the maelstrom of the frontline. Their movements were sharp, purposeful. The AR visors in their helmets glowed faintly, highlighting enemy silhouettes, tagging allies, feeding them real-time updates from AURA.
"Hunter 3, push left flank!" Sohel barked into the comms. "Suppress the rooftops!"
"Copy, Alpha 1!" came Sajjad's voice. Gunfire intensified on the left as SNA soldiers shifted fire, forcing the FNA marksmen to duck back into cover.
Mei drew her twin combat knives as she advanced, her steps fluid, body weaving instinctively through the chaos. Bullets zipped past her, but she read the angles, the twitch of an enemy's rifle, the subtle tightening of a finger on a trigger. She ducked, pivoted, closed the gap, and struck—one blade through a soldier's neck, the other slicing across another's wrist before driving upward into his chest.
Elina covered her flank, her rifle barking short controlled bursts, dropping any soldier who tried to take aim at Mei.
Sohel's bionic arm swung like a hammer, his rifle spitting lead in his other hand. He moved with brutal efficiency, a ghost in the desert night—his callsign earned again and again.
The compound had become a warzone, but the SNA push was relentless. FNA soldiers fell back step by step, their lines cracking under the combined might of disciplined infantry, Athena's raining fire, and the lethal precision of Task Force 7.
And in the shadows of the compound, deeper inside, Liora Schmidt waited.
The compound burned with chaos. Gunfire ricocheted off walls, shadows flickered in the muzzle flashes, and the sand was already stained with blood. But for Task Force 7, the path forward was clear: push deeper, break through, and find Liora.
---
Prisoner's Compound
Mitali and Arina sprinted across the courtyard, weaving through the firefight. A few stray rounds snapped past them, but the Hunter squads covering their advance returned fire, cutting down the FNA shooters on the rooftops. The two medics reached the heavy iron gate of the prisoner's block.
"Breaching!" Mitali yelled. She fired two suppressed shots into the lock, kicked hard, and the door swung inward with a tortured groan.
The air inside was damp and foul, thick with the stench of blood, sweat, and despair. The dim emergency lights barely held against the darkness. Rows of cages lined the walls, their occupants huddled together—soldiers, civilians, men and women beaten into silence. Some lifted their heads weakly as the medics entered.
"Don't be afraid, we're SNA," Arina said in Russian, her voice calm, steady. She knelt beside a man clutching his side, crimson soaking through his torn shirt.
Mitali dropped her pack, pulling out bandages and saline drips. Her hands worked quickly, practiced. She checked wounds, whispered reassurances, and gave what comfort she could. Every cry of pain drove her to move faster.
AURA's voice fed directly into their helmets: Medical scans uploaded. Prioritize abdominal trauma, fractured limbs, and severe blood loss. Estimated casualties: forty-three critical, ninety stable.
"Copy," Mitali muttered, already stitching a deep gash on a woman's shoulder. Her heart pounded, but her focus never wavered.
Arina pulled another man onto a makeshift stretcher and nodded to two uninjured prisoners. "Help carry him outside. There are helicopters waiting. Go."
The prisoners hesitated, then obeyed. Slowly, hope began to flicker in their eyes.
---
Frontline
Outside, the battle only intensified. Sohel, Mei, and Elina advanced past the first courtyard, clearing a path through shattered walls and burning vehicles. The Hunters fought like wolves at their flanks, relentless and coordinated.
Mei ducked low, spun around a crumbling pillar, and drove her blade upward into an FNA soldier's ribs. She didn't even flinch as blood sprayed across her visor. She ripped the knife free and turned to the next. Her movements were ruthless but controlled, each strike economical, precise.
Elina, rifle raised, called out, "Two on the balcony, left!"
Sohel raised his bionic arm, gripping a fallen guard's rifle like a spear, and hurled it upward. The weapon smashed into one of the shooters, knocking him backward off the railing. Elina dropped the second with a sharp burst.
"Ghost to Hunter 2, push right flank. Cut off their retreat!" Sohel barked.
"Copy that, Ghost," came the reply. Gunfire shifted immediately, forcing the FNA fighters deeper into the compound.
But still they came. For every squad that fell, another scrambled from the factory building, pouring out in desperation. The defenders were fighting with the desperation of men who knew retreat wasn't an option.
Athena hovered above, its 25mm autocannons strafing defensive nests, every burst chewing through cover like paper. From De Luca's console, AURA called out targeting solutions in clipped tones: Target acquired, right tower. Firing solution locked. Suppression ready.
"Light them up," De Luca growled, and another torrent of fire tore the night apart.
Annabelle kept her hands firm on the controls, her voice level. "Keep me steady, AURA. We can't risk friendly fire. Hunters are everywhere."
---
Inner Courtyard
Sohel, Mei, and Elina pressed through a breach blown open by Athena's shells, stepping into the inner courtyard. The gunfire thinned, but tension thickened. Ahead, the factory's massive steel doors groaned as they began to close.
"She's in there," Mei whispered, her grip tightening on her knives.
Sohel nodded. "Ghost to Princess—bring Athena low. We need eyes inside that building."
Annabelle's reply came crisp. "Copy, Ghost. Lowering altitude now."
Athena descended slightly, its sensors scanning through broken walls and shattered windows. AURA's voice chimed in Mei's ear. Thermal scans indicate heavy concentration of hostiles inside factory. Liora Schmidt not confirmed.
"Figures," Sohel muttered. "She wouldn't make it easy."
The three pushed forward again, ducking into cover as sporadic gunfire crackled from the windows. Elina lobbed a smoke grenade, and the courtyard filled with thick white haze. In the cover of smoke, they advanced to the steel doors.
Sohel slammed his bionic fist into the locking mechanism. The panel bent inward, sparks spraying, but the doors held. "Damn thing's reinforced."
Mei stepped forward, her eyes narrowing. "Then we cut through them the old way." She slashed her blades into the hinges, sparks dancing with each strike. Elina covered her, firing at silhouettes moving in the smoke.
Before Mei could finish, AURA's voice cut through all comms, sharp and urgent:
Warning. Priority target identified. Liora Schmidt is escaping the compound. Vehicle detected—black armored SUV, south exit. Estimated departure: thirty seconds.
Sohel froze for half a second, then snarled into the comm. "All stations, target is mobile! She's trying to run!"
The battle wasn't over. It had only just shifted.