The morning sun was barely cresting the horizon, and yet the air at the abandoned airstrip felt electric. Adrian and Lydia sat across from each other in the back of the black SUV, the hum of the engine a steady reminder that danger could strike at any second. They hadn’t slept, hadn’t rested properly since their narrow escape, and every muscle in their bodies ached—but neither cared. Survival wasn’t just about escaping bullets anymore; it was about planning a strike that would finally end the nightmare chasing them.

Adrian’s eyes scanned the blueprints of the enemy’s known operations spread across the SUV’s fold-out table. Every line, every mark, was a...