Task Force

Ethan's legs nearly gave out as he sprinted toward the sound of Olivia's scream, blood still trickling warm down his neck, adrenaline the only thing keeping him upright.

He found her pinned against a container wall, Noah standing between her and two of the black-clad shooters, weapon steady despite the chaos, dropping one attacker with a controlled shot to the shoulder before the second retreated into darkness.

"You're hit," Noah said, glancing at Ethan's neck without lowering his weapon.

"I'm fine."

"You're not, but it'll keep." Noah scanned the shadows once more, then jerked his head toward the pier's exit. "We need to move before the rest of them regroup."

"Who are you people?" Olivia demanded, still catching her breath. "That thing back there wasn't human. I've never seen anyone move like that."

"Later," Noah said. "Car's two minutes out. Walking distance turns into a very bad idea if we stand here talking."

They moved fast through the container maze, Ethan's hands still trembling from adrenaline, Olivia gripping his arm like she might lose him if she let go.

Noah led them to an unmarked SUV idling at the pier's access road, engine running, doors already unlocked.

"Get in," he said. "Both of you."

"Not until someone tells me what's happening," Ethan said.

"Agent Cruz will explain everything. That's not my job." Noah's expression softened slightly. "But if it helps, that thing back there was Ghost Squad. Elite mercenary unit. You're lucky to be walking away with just a scratch."

Ethan and Olivia exchanged a look, and finally climbed in.

They drove in tense silence through Manhattan's late-night streets, eventually pulling into an underground parking structure beneath a nondescript federal building.

Isabella Cruz waited near the elevator, older around the eyes than Ethan remembered, a lanyard now marking her as something more senior than the agent who'd once betrayed him.

"You're alive," she said, relief plain in her voice. "That's more than I expected, given what just hit that pier."

"You knew," Ethan said. "You knew they'd come for me tonight."

"I suspected." Cruz gestured for them to follow her toward the elevator. "I've been tracking chatter about an organisation calling itself Shadow Protocol for three months. I didn't have proof they'd already made you a target until an hour ago."

"And you let me walk into it anyway?"

"I sent Noah as backup the moment I confirmed it," Cruz said. "I'm sorry it wasn't sooner. This organisation moves faster than anything I've encountered, Blackwood included."

The elevator descended two levels below street level, opening into a secure command centre humming with monitors and quiet, focused activity.

Marcus Reed stood near a central table, looking healthier than Ethan had seen him since the bridge, though a slight limp remained as he crossed the room to shake Ethan's hand.

"Good to see you standing," Reed said.

"Good to see you walking," Ethan replied.

"Barely," Reed admitted, "but I'll take it."

Cruz gestured them toward the table, where a holographic display flickered to life, revealing a web of connections spanning continents. "Shadow Protocol isn't like Blackwood's network. Blackwood ran a city. This organisation runs governments. They've got assets in intelligence agencies across three countries, unlimited funding, and an AI system capable of manipulating financial markets in real time."

"And they want me dead," Ethan said. "Why?"

"That's what we don't know yet," Cruz admitted. "But whatever it is, it's personal. That figure who came after you tonight — we believe that's Black Viper. One of the deadliest assassins currently operating. Shadow Protocol doesn't send their best against random targets."

"So I'm not random."

"No," Cruz said carefully. "Which is why I'm asking you to join a task force we've assembled to stop them before this becomes something none of us can contain."

"I already fought one war," Ethan said. "I nearly lost everyone I love doing it."

"I understand if you say no," Cruz said. "But if Shadow Protocol has already decided you're a target, saying no doesn't make you safer. It just means you're facing them alone instead of with people trained to help."

Olivia's hand found Ethan's, steady despite everything. "You don't have to decide tonight."

"No," Reed agreed. "But whatever you decide, decide fast. Because whoever attacked that pier tonight wasn't testing your resolve. They were testing our response time."

A technician at a nearby console straightened suddenly, urgency flashing across her face. "Agent Cruz, you need to see this."

Cruz crossed to the console, scanning the screen, her expression darkening with each passing second.

"What is it?" Ethan asked.

"A convoy," Cruz said slowly. "Military transport, moving experimental weapons technology through Brooklyn tonight, under heavy federal escort." She looked up, meeting Ethan's eyes with grim certainty. "Shadow Protocol's chatter just spiked around its route."

"They're going to hit it," Reed said.

"Tonight," Cruz confirmed. "Which means we don't have time for you to think this over, Ethan. I need an answer now."

Ethan looked around the room — Olivia's steady grip on his hand, Reed's determined resolve, Noah already checking his weapon near the door, Cruz waiting with the weight of an impossible choice balanced entirely on his response.

"I'm in," he said.

Cruz nodded once, already moving toward the door. "Then suit up. We roll in five minutes."

The alarm blared through the command centre before anyone reached the door, red emergency lighting flooding the room, and the technician's voice cracked with alarm.

"The convoy's already under attack!"

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