Third Floor
Caine pushed through the stairwell door, moving straight toward the farthest supply station.
The long corridor had been hastily fortified with makeshift cover.
Six Enforcers of the second squad crouched in ambush, CA-415 automatic rifles ready, sights fixed on the stairwell.
The moment he stepped into the supply station—
RAT-TAT-TAT!
Gunfire erupted outside.
Bullets shredded the entrance door like paper, sparks and splinters raining down.
Inside, Caine immediately tossed aside his Kel-Tec KSG shotgun.
"This thing won't work for close-quarters. I need something one-handed… high capacity."
Without hesitation, Margarita pulled a custom weapon from her case.
"Glock 17, mounted with a FAB Defense KPOS G1 carbine kit. 9mm rounds. Extended 33-round mag."
Caine tested the weight in his hand.
"Not bad."
He nodded once, quickly reloaded, then grabbed a CA-415 and his sword-cane before moving out.
Behind cover, he set up the CA-415.
Safety off. Bolt pulled.
At the stairwell, an Enforcer tossed two grenades toward the hall.
Fast as lightning, Caine fired—
RAT-TAT-TAT!
A round struck one grenade mid-air. It didn't explode—
instead, the impact sent it flying out through the doorway into the stairwell below.
BOOM! BOOM!
Twin explosions.
Two Enforcers in the front ranks had their skulls shredded by shrapnel.
Screams echoed from the stairwell.
Caine advanced, sprinting to the wall beside the doorway.
He leaned in, gun first—
RAT-TAT-TAT!
An unrelenting burst tore into the stairwell. In seconds, the mag ran dry.
He tossed the rifle aside, drew his customized Glock SMG,
and kicked the door wide open.
His sword-cane slid free—
the blade stabbing straight through an Enforcer's throat.
The scream died instantly.
Caine's Glock barked—
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Four precise shots, dropping the lightly wounded.
Then steel and gunfire worked as one.
A thrust.
A slash.
A downward cleave.
Caine cut a brutal path, every strike claiming a life,
every shot placed with surgical precision.
Top Floor – Alex's Suite
In his bedroom, Alex sat with a glass of whiskey,
eyes fixed on the Lighthouse's surveillance feeds streaming across the TV.
Two system alerts chimed in his head:
Ding! One Enforcer (blue) has been killed.
Ding! One Enforcer (blue) has been killed.
He wasn't surprised.
That grenade had landed perfectly—right between two men, detonating on impact. No chance to dodge.
Still, Caine's efficiency made him raise an eyebrow.
"Impressive… Seems Caine's strength might even surpass John Wick."
But when Caine pushed deeper into the stairwell, the feed cut off.
The Lighthouse's surveillance never covered stairwells—privacy policy.
Alex muttered,
"After this war, I'll have Susie patch every blind spot. This is the base of operations—no room for weaknesses."
He turned toward Ramsay at the computer.
"Switch the feed to Duggan."
"Yes, Mr. Alex," Ramsay replied, fingers tapping the keyboard.
The screen shifted to the underground garage.
Duggan crouched behind a stone pillar, checking the rounds in his shotgun.
The [King of Spades] badge clipped to his chest glowed faintly.
[Stamina Recovery +20%]
[Wound Healing +20%]
The buffs surged through him, strength flooding back.
By the time the six-man Enforcer squad pushed through the stairwell into the blood-soaked garage,
Duggan was ready.
He moved low, silent as death.
BOOM!
One Enforcer obliterated, his body slamming into the concrete.
The silence shattered again.
RAT-TAT-TAT!
The remaining five unleashed fire toward the shot's origin.
But Duggan was already gone.
KA-CHAK! BOOM!
Another kill, this time from their flank.
The four survivors froze, fear prickling their spines.
They locked back-to-back, eyes darting everywhere, afraid to blink.
Then—sweat.
One man's vision blurred as it stung his eye. He flinched, closing it for just a second—
BOOM!
Agony tore through his body. Collapse. Silence.
RAT-TAT-TAT!
The last three spun, spraying bullets at Duggan's position, charging forward.
Their clips emptied in seconds, cars riddled with holes.
But when they reached the spot—
nothing.
Then—
KA-CHAK!
The sound of a shotgun chambering behind them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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