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"The game is over."
The emotionless voice dropped from the radio.
Levi felt his blood freeze solid.
It was over.
That was the only thought left in both his and Gabe's minds.
The cold poured in from all directions—not seeping anymore, but devouring. Every breath scraped his lungs with icy shards.
Gabe was worse.
His already dark, bloodless face had turned a sickly gray-blue. His lips were purple. His body no longer trembled— even the spasms had stopped. He looked like a frozen statue, with only the faintest rise and fall in his chest to prove he was still alive.
"We're… dead for sure…" Gabe's lips barely moved, the words squeezed out of his throat, tinged with a sob.
"He knows we're here… He's coming…"
He couldn't finish. The last bit of light vanished from his eyes, and his body went limp—like a man who had already accepted death.
Levi's heart sank with him.
Damn it.
He cursed silently.
He'd calculated everything—except that the "Hound" himself was responsible for southern reconnaissance. Murphy's Law at its finest. A deception clever enough to be written into textbooks, undone instantly by one cruel coincidence.
They'd overplayed their hand.
Now that sadistic bastard was coming up from downstream at his leisure. Levi and Gabe were nothing more than Thanksgiving turkeys on a table, waiting for the hunter to decide where to carve.
Wait to die?
Die like this—cringing in fear and cold?
No.
Those words didn't exist in Levi's dictionary.
Just as despair was about to swallow him whole, his mind jolted.
No—this isn't the worst-case scenario yet.
The Hound was smart—but he'd made a fatal mistake.
He was too arrogant.
He thought exposing the trick meant total control, and couldn't resist announcing his victory over the public channel, savoring the prey's fear.
What he forgot was this:
On the battlefield, information always lags.
Those words of his—they would cause chaos.
"Gabe! Listen to me!" Levi grabbed his shoulder and shook him hard. "Look at me! It's not over! We still have a chance!"
"A chance…?" Gabe's unfocused eyes struggled to lock on.
"To see what knife he uses?"
"No!" Madness flickered in Levi's eyes as he leaned close, speaking fast.
"That bastard used the public channel! Everyone heard him! Including the Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth squads who just received my fake order!"
Gabe froze.
Levi kept going, his thoughts razor-sharp now.
"A Hydra squad leader is on his way south to reinforce. Then suddenly, another guy—callsign 'Hound'—says on the channel that the order is fake. What does that squad leader think? What does he do?"
"I… I'd stop," Gabe murmured. "I'd be confused…"
"Exactly! Chaos!" Levi snapped.
"They'll hesitate. They'll question it. They'll try to confirm with command. Until then, they're headless chickens! That's the window we bought with our lives!"
"And more importantly—" Levi looked toward the distant ridgeline.
"Captain America. Steve Rogers. He won't care whether Hydra's command structure is in chaos or not. The moment he sees the eastern encirclement loosen, what will he do?"
"He'll break out," Gabe answered instantly this time.
"Right!" Levi's grin turned feral.
"He'll throw everything he has into charging through that gap!"
"So now the situation is this: the Hound is coming from downstream to kill us. Captain America, with Hydra forces on his tail, is racing toward us from the ridgeline!"
"And we're standing right in the center—where those two tides are about to collide!"
Gabe stared, stunned.
"T-then isn't that even more dangerous?"
"Dangerous?" Levi hauled him upright with a roar.
"No—this is backed into a corner, fighting for life! We're not running anymore. We're betting! Betting that Captain America gets here before that monster does! If Cap arrives first with Hydra on his heels, this place becomes a brand-new battlefield! Total chaos! And that's when we disappear!"
Levi dragged Gabe toward a shallow gully filled with rocks and dead brush.
"Hide behind that rock! No matter what you hear or see—don't move! Don't move unless I call you!"
He settled Gabe in place, then inhaled sharply and pulled out the C4 from his pack.
His fingers were stiff with cold, but his movements were steady. He placed the charge at the edge of the reeds where they'd hidden before—right along the path the Hound would have to take from downstream.
Then he pulled off a shoelace, found a dry stick, and rigged a crude trip trigger. One end tied to the detonator ring, the other lightly stretched between two bushes.
It wouldn't kill the Hound.
But that wasn't the point.
He only needed a signal.
One explosion.
One loud, unmistakable message to Captain America:
This way. Run here. Something's happening.
Finished, Levi rolled back beside Gabe. They pressed themselves flat against the frozen rock wall, breathing shallowly.
Seconds crawled by.
Wind.
Snow.
Distant gunfire.
And heartbeats pounding like war drums.
Levi's eyes were locked on two directions.
Downstream—death.
The ridgeline—hope.
Who would arrive first?
Move, Steve! Move! Levi screamed inside his head.
Hurry up, or I'm getting mounted on someone's wall!
Then—
Gunfire erupted from the western ridge.
Explosions followed, closer now, surging forward like a broken dam.
They were coming.
Levi and Gabe locked eyes, wild joy flashing between them.
Captain America had broken through.
The gamble was working.
And at the same moment—
Downstream, along the silent riverbank, within the shadow of the reeds where the trap lay waiting—
A tall figure appeared without a sound.
He wasn't in a hurry.
If anything, he strolled.
The long black coat didn't flutter in the wind. His gaze was like a laser, fixed on the reed bed.
The Hound.
He had arrived faster than expected.
Levi's heart sank.
On one side—hope, charging in desperation.
On the other—death, arriving quietly.
And Levi and Gabe were caught right in between.
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I'll release one bonus chapter for every 200 Power Stones we hit!"
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