The smell inside the Nest had changed. It was no longer the dry ozone of a data center, but the smell of gun oil, sweat, and something like industrial-strength insect repellent. Gryphon's support team, six strong, was checking their weapons and gear with an almost meditative focus.
Kael stood before his locker. The cheap suit was gone, replaced by a dark olive-drab combat uniform, designed to blend into the jungle shadows. The fabric was light, durable, and treated with anti-insect and water-resistant compounds.
Gryphon walked up beside him, holding an assault rifle that looked both familiar and alien. It had the frame of a SCAR-H, but it was heavily modified with custom parts and an advanced optical sight.
"This is for you," Gryphon said, handing the rifle to Kael. "Call it the 'Kestrel'. Fires 7.62mm rounds, enough to punch through mercenary body armor and the hides of some low-tier B.O.W.s. Semi-auto and full-auto modes. Get acquainted."
Kael took the rifle. It was heavier than his old HK416, but perfectly balanced. He worked the action, removed and re-seated the magazine. A lethal piece of craftsmanship.
"Better gear than the BSAA," Kael remarked.
"We're not bound by defense budgets or political contracts," Gryphon smirked. "We use what works, no matter where it comes from. Most of it is 'borrowed' prototype tech."
Kael looked around. The other team members were the same. They didn't look like a regular military unit. They looked like a collection of deadly specialists. A petite Asian woman was honing a pair of curved daggers. A towering Nordic man was assembling a heavy-caliber sniper rifle. Each had a role, a specialty.
"Your team... where are they from?" Kael asked.
"Everywhere," Gryphon answered, his gaze distant. "Ex-SAS, ex-Spetsnaz, ex-Mossad. People who saw too much, or got burned by the system. Like you. Oracle brought us together. Gave us a purpose."
"What purpose? To be nameless assassins?"
Gryphon looked Kael straight in the eye, the smirk gone. "The purpose is to clean up the mess the governments and corporations make. We're the gatekeepers, Spectre. Standing between this world and the hell people like The Broker want to unleash. Don't ever forget that."
He clapped Kael on the shoulder. "Gear up. Oracle wants to see you."
Kael found Anya in the forward command section of the plane, the only part with windows to the outside. She was standing there, watching the clouds drift by beneath them at forty-thousand feet.
She didn't turn when he approached.
"I reviewed your psych evaluation," she said, her voice flat. "The BSAA diagnosed you with complex PTSD, survivor's guilt, and oppositional-defiant tendencies. They deemed you unfit for service."
"They needed a reason to get rid of me," Kael replied, standing a short distance away. "I was the only witness to their failure and their rot."
"They weren't entirely wrong," Anya said, finally turning to face him. The blue light from the monitors cast her face in shadow, making her eyes seem even more distant. "You do have a tendency to defy orders. You did it back in Macau."
"And if I hadn't, we wouldn't have this lead."
"A successful gamble doesn't make it a smart move, Spectre. This time, in the Congo, you will follow orders. No exceptions. That environment leaves no room for improvisation."
Kael crossed his arms. "So tell me, Oracle. What about your methods? Using me as bait. Sacrificing pawns to locate the queen. Do you ever wonder if you're becoming the very thing you hunt?"
A long silence stretched between them. For the first time, Kael saw a crack in Anya's icy facade. Something flickered in her eyes. Pain? Regret?
"Fifteen years ago," she said softly, her voice barely a whisper, "my younger brother lived in a small Russian town called Sterlitamak. A dull, industrial town. He was a young, brilliant chemical engineer. One day, there was an 'incident' at the local chemical plant. A gas leak, the government said."
She turned back to the window.
"They lied. It wasn't gas. It was a failed bio-weapon test by an unknown Umbrella splinter cell. The town was quarantined. No one in, no one out. For two weeks, I heard unofficial reports through black market channels. About the screams. About people changing. About monsters roaming the streets. Then, it all went silent."
Anya took a deep, steadying breath.
"Months later, the government declared the 'crisis contained'. They leveled the entire town. Built a concrete exclusion zone around it. They said everyone had died in the initial leak. Another lie."
She looked directly at Kael, and this time, he saw the fire in her eyes. A cold, burning hatred.
"I spent the next ten years hacking every government server, every corporation I could. I found the truth. The current Broker... he was the one who sold the technology to the terrorist cell that caused the 'incident' in Sterlitamak. He called it a 'product field test'."
She stepped closer to Kael. "So, don't ask me about morality, Spectre. I don't care about being a good person. I care about results. I will use any method, sacrifice anyone, including myself, to make sure no other town suffers the fate of Sterlitamak. Do you understand?"
Kael was silent. He no longer saw a cold-hearted commander. He saw a broken woman, driven by a vengeance even greater than his own. He didn't agree with her methods, but he understood them.
"I understand," he said. And this time, he truly did.
"Five minutes to the drop zone!" The pilot's voice crackled over the intercom.
The Nest had descended, flying just above a thick cloud layer. Below them was an endless sea of green. The Congo jungle.
Kael and Gryphon's team stood near the open rear cargo door, the wind screaming outside. They all wore oxygen masks and night-vision goggles.
Anya appeared on the main screen, her face once again a mask of professionalism.
"Final briefing," she declared. "The signal from the case has stopped at these coordinates. It's deep inside the complex. But there's a problem."
The holographic map appeared, showing the mining facility.
"Our latest intel from a local source indicates the rebel army controlling this area, the Mamba Liberation Force, has recently received a new shipment of weapons. They are no longer just guerillas with old AK-47s."
Thermal surveillance images appeared. Humanoid figures patrolling the complex. But some had strange shapes. Taller, bulkier.
"Furthermore, we are detecting unclassified biological signatures in the region. Large things, moving through the jungle. We don't know what they are. Consider everything in that forest hostile."
Anya looked directly at the camera, as if looking at each member of the team.
"Your mission is threefold. One: Infiltrate the complex and pinpoint Hunnigan's location and the 'item'. Two: Plant micro-listeners and cameras at strategic points so we can monitor their activities. Three: Find out what the MLF is doing for The Broker."
She paused.
"This is a reconnaissance mission, not an assault. The priority is to gather intel and extract safely. Avoid all unnecessary engagement. Gryphon, you're in command. Spectre, you are the team's eyes and ears. Use your experience to spot biological threats."
The lights in the cargo bay switched to red.
"Thirty seconds!"
Kael checked his parachute harness. He felt the familiar surge of adrenaline.
"Good luck, Nest," Anya's voice came one last time.
"Green light! Go! Go! Go!" Gryphon yelled.
Without a shred of hesitation, his team launched themselves out of the plane, one by one, disappearing into the night and the clouds below.
Kael was the last. He stood at the edge of the ramp, looking down at the green hell that awaited him.
Then he jumped.
The wind roared in his ears as he plunged into the darkness, towards a land where man and monster danced together in a symphony of violence and death.