HE FOUND HIS DAUGHTER EATING FROM A DOG BOWL... THEN ONE VIDEO DESTROYED HIS FIANCÉE'S ENTIRE LIFE

Night fell over the cabin like a thick, black suffocating blanket.

Inside, all the lights were extinguished. The only illumination came from the glowing monitors on Marcus's makeshift command center. He watched the thermal drone feed he had launched ten minutes ago. It hovered silently high above the tree line.

On the screen, eight bright orange heat signatures were slowly creeping up the southern ridge, fanning out in a tactical formation.

"Eight targets," Marcus whispered into a comms headset. "They're flanking the rear deck. Fifty meters out."

"Copy that," Hayes replied. The contractor was positioned on the roof, hidden behind a stone chimney, wrapped in a thermal-masking blanket. He had a custom sniper rifle mounted on a bipod, the crosshairs already dialed in.

"Lily," Marcus said softly, turning to his daughter. She was tucked safely inside an old cast-iron woodstove that Marcus had emptied and padded with heavy blankets. It was the only bulletproof enclosure in the house. "Put the earmuffs on. Don't take them off until I open the door."

Lily nodded, sliding the heavy noise-canceling headphones over her ears and pulling her teddy bear close to her chest. Marcus closed the heavy iron door of the stove, securing the latch.

He turned back to the monitor. "Hayes. Thirty meters."

"I see them."

"Engage."

A deafening CRACK echoed from the roof, instantly followed by the sound of shattering glass as a bullet tore through a mercenary's helmet in the tree line. On the thermal monitor, one of the orange signatures dropped instantly.

The woods erupted in chaos.

Gunfire lit up the darkness as the Syndicate mercenaries opened fire on the roof. Tracers zipped through the air, chewing into the wooden siding of the cabin.

"They're suppressing me!" Hayes yelled over the radio. "I need a distraction, Mr. Vale!"

Marcus's fingers flew across his keyboard. "Activating perimeter countermeasures now."

With a single keystroke, Marcus triggered the high-lumen, industrial security floodlights he had hidden in the trees earlier that afternoon. The woods were instantly bathed in blinding, searing white light. The sudden glare overwhelmed the mercenaries' night-vision goggles, blinding them completely.

Screams of pain and confusion echoed through the trees as the attackers tore off their tactical headsets.

CRACK. CRACK.

Hayes capitalized on the confusion, dropping two more mercenaries before they could find cover.

"Three down, five to go!" Hayes shouted. "Boss, they're pushing the front door! They have a breaching charge!"

Marcus didn't hesitate. He grabbed the 9mm pistol Hayes had left him, racking the slide. He wasn't a soldier, but he was a father, and he was fueled by a rage so deep it burned away any trace of fear.

"Hold the roof, Hayes," Marcus commanded. "I have the door."

Marcus took cover behind the heavy oak kitchen island, aiming his weapon at the reinforced front entrance. The handle rattled. Then, a heavy thud sounded against the wood.

BOOM.

The heavy steel door blew inward off its hinges, a cloud of splinters and smoke pouring into the living room. Two masked men rushed through the breach, their laser sights sweeping the room.

Marcus squeezed the trigger. He fired blindly into the smoke, emptying half the magazine. One of the men grunted, dropping his rifle and falling backward onto the porch.

The other mercenary rolled, bringing his weapon up to aim directly at Marcus's chest.

Before the man could fire, a heavy blast of buckshot tore through the ceiling from above. Hayes had shot through the roof directly over the entryway. The mercenary collapsed, lifeless.

The cabin fell eerily silent, save for the ringing in Marcus's ears and the acrid smell of gunpowder filling the air.

"Hayes," Marcus breathed into the comms. "Status."

Static hissed in his ear.

"Hayes?"