The raid began with chaos.
Samuel's forces moved first. It was a group of ghanaian military personnel advancing on the main gate with coordinated precision while private security contractors opened fire from the guard towers. The sound of gunfire cracked through the air, sharp and immediate.
"Boss," Anthony said, already moving toward a side fence line away from the main assault. "We're not going through the front."
"Agreed," I said, following him. Observation tracked the security patterns, noting weak points in their defensive formation. They were focused on the main gate, on the obvious threat. A smaller team could slip around the side while they were distracted and quite frankly with what I promised the girls, I'd rather avoid as much direct confrontation as I can.
We ran along the perimeter fence, keeping low. Anthony pulled out wire cutters from one of the utility pitches of his cargo pants and made quick work of a section of chain-link, peeling it back just enough for us to slip through.
Inside the compound, the alarm klaxons were deafening. Red emergency lights strobed across buildings, creating disorienting patterns of light and shadow.
"Three o'clock," Anthony said, his weapon already tracking toward a guard who'd spotted us.
I didn't wait for him to finish. Hand-to-Hand Combat and Reflex Calibration kicked in as I closed the distance, moving faster than the guard expected. My fist connected with his jaw—Precision Strikes ensuring maximum impact—and he dropped without even getting the chance to get a shot off.
"Clear," I said, already moving toward the nearest building.
Anthony followed, covering our six. "Where are we going?"
"Central research building," I said, pulling up the facility layout Samuel had provided on my phone. "If the World President is anywhere, it's there."
We moved through the compound like ghosts. The main assault had drawn most of the security forces to the front entrance, leaving the internal pathways relatively unguarded. The few guards we did encounter went down quickly—Anthony's marksmanship and my close-quarters skills making short work of anyone who tried to stop us. If I had to guess whoever was left in the building were newly hires who had less fighting experience which I wasn't going to complain about.
A door ahead burst open, three contractors spilling out with weapons raised.
"Down!" Anthony shouted, and I dropped as he fired three precise shots. All three targets hit the ground before they could return fire.
The central research building loomed ahead—a three-story structure of concrete and steel, more fortress than laboratory. The main entrance was sealed, blast doors engaged.
"Side entrance," I said, spotting a service door that hadn't been fully secured. Structural Reinforcement knowledge told me it was meant for equipment delivery, not security. Weaker point.
Anthony positioned himself to cover while I approached the door. My Mechanical Mastery and Deduction skill helped me understand the locking mechanism—electronic, but with a manual override in case of power failure.
I gestured Anthony to hand me something. He quickly pulled out a multi-tool and I went to work. Thirty seconds later, the lock disengaged with a heavy click.
The interior was dimmer, emergency lighting casting everything in red. The alarm was somehow even louder in the enclosed space, echoing off walls and creating an almost physical pressure.
We moved through corridors, Observation cataloging everything. Lab equipment. Computers still displaying data. Signs of recent evacuation—chairs pushed back hastily, documents scattered.
"Someone left in a hurry," Anthony muttered.
"Keep moving," I said.
A stairwell took us to the second floor. More labs. More evidence of rushed departure. But also something else.
Bodies. No not unconscious bodies, but rather corpses.
Research staff, by the look of their clothing. Not killed by the raid—these deaths were older. Hours, maybe a day. I had assumed that they would have hostages, but why would they just shoot them all down?
"Boss," Anthony said quietly, kneeling beside one. "Execution style. Single shot to the back of the head."
My jaw tightened. If I had to guess, the World President was cleaning house. Eliminating witnesses.
We found more bodies as we moved deeper into the building. Some researchers. Some security personnel who'd probably objected to the executions. All killed efficiently, clinically. Whatever he was working on, the faculty was becoming less and less supportive. Either that or they were always going to die no matter what. There's always the possibility that the World President would have killed them to keep his anonymity.
"Third floor," I said, checking the layout again. "Executive offices and high-security labs."
The stairwell to the third floor was blocked by two guards who actually knew what they were doing. They took cover positions and laid down suppressive fire that forced us back. For once during this raid we actually got stopped and we needed to cool off. Though even that didn't last that long.
"I'm throwing a flashbang," Anthony said, pulling one from his vest.
I nodded, and he threw it around the corner. The explosion of light and sound was immediately followed by Anthony moving in, his weapon speaking twice. Both guards went down.
We climbed the stairs quickly, weapons ready.
The third floor was different. Quieter. The alarm was muted here, sound dampening in the walls. The architecture shifted from institutional to almost corporate—nicer finishes, better lighting, actual artwork on the walls.
We cleared rooms methodically. Empty offices. Conference rooms with presentations still up on screens showing neural pathway diagrams I recognized from Alexis's work on the Cain Protocol. Samuel did say that they were trying to improve the Cain Protocol to fully alter the minds of everyone, but seeing it all in front of me made it slight unnerving. There were also multiple storage rooms full of equipment that looked disturbingly medical. Updates are released by novęlfire.net
Then we reached a corner office at the end of the hall.
Anthony signaled he'd clear left while I took right. We moved in together, smooth and coordinated.
The office was large. Expensive desk. Leather chairs. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the compound, currently showing Samuel's forces slowly pushing through the main gate.
No World President. No staff. Just an office that had clearly been occupied recently—computer still on, coffee cup still warm on the desk.
I moved to the computer, trying to access it, but it was locked. Password protected and probably encrypted by some people in the government who specialize in cybersecurity. I could probably hack it since I got my S-Rank Hacker portfolio when I used Enhanced Destroy on Hyena a while back. Though I'd need some time to prepare since I never actually used it.
"Boss," Anthony said from near the windows. "We've got movement below. Looks like they're trying to evacuate through the back."
I was about to respond when Instinct screamed a warning. That primal awareness that had saved my life more times than I could count.
I spun, weapon raising, Observation tracking every shadow, every potential hiding spot.
But the feeling didn't go away. If anything, it intensified. Whoever this was…they were extremely good at hiding and remaining out of sight.
"Reynard," a voice said from behind me.
Not because of the voice itself, though it sent ice through my veins.
But because of what it meant. Who it had to be. It was a voice that was more coarse than I know, but one that was easily identifiable.
I turned slowly, weapon still raised.
And found myself face to face with my father.
Hugo Vale stood in the doorway we'd just cleared, looking older than I remembered but unmistakably him. The gray hair. The cold, analytical eyes. The slight stoop in his shoulders that came from decades bent over research.
He wasn't armed. Wasn't even dressed for evacuation—just wearing a white lab coat over casual clothes, was any other workday.
We stared at each other across the office, years of history and hatred compressed into a single moment.
Anthony had his weapon trained on Hugo immediately, but I raised a hand. Waiting.
Hugo's expression was unreadable. Not surprised to see me. Not afraid. Just… observing. Analyzing. The way he always had.
"Hello, son," he said finally, his voice exactly as I remembered. Measured. Clinical. Like greeting me was no different than noting the results of an experiment.
My finger tightened on the trigger, Deduction running through a dozen scenarios about why he was here, why he wasn't running, what this meant.
Because standing there, looking at the man who'd abandoned his family to create monsters in a laboratory, who'd overseen the experiments that had 3840 victims, who'd enabled everything the World President had done…
I realized I had questions.
And you can't get answers from a corpse.
"Father," I said, the word tasting like poison in my mouth.
Hugo smiled. Not warmly. Not coldly. Just smiled, like I'd passed some kind of test.
"I was wondering when you'd finally come looking for me or rather when you'd finally find me." He stretched his arm the slightest before his cold eyes locked on to mine. "I disappointed it took you so long."