The Trading Center's underground parking garage was plunged into darkness, the power cut after the server room explosion. Dozens of tactical flashlights cut through the gloom, and a few squad leaders sported night vision goggles.
The refugees ambushed in the underground tunnel had regained consciousness. "There's an enemy among us!" one gasped. "Warn the boss!"
Panic rippled through the ranks. A runner was dispatched to alert The Bayonet on the 20th floor. Others questioned the survivors, learning how a supposed teammate had led them into a deadly trap. Suspicion filled the air, each refugee eyeing the others warily. Cooperation crumbled in the face of uncertainty. With nearly two hundred refugees scattered throughout the building and surrounding area, it was impossible for everyone to know each other.
The Bayonet's orders arrived: initiate Protocol 3, a mutual identification procedure.
Thomas and Tessia, hidden among the refugees, received the protocol details from Tessia. As the refugees nervously verified each other's identities, Thomas and Tessia slipped away to a garage roller door. Working quickly, Thomas affixed several remote-detonated shaped charges to the door and surrounding area, using his chewing-gum-based plastic explosive.
"Are you sure about this?" Thomas asked Tessia, his voice low.
Tessia's eyes were resolute. "This is my fight. I can do this."
She vanished into the darkness. Thomas, a satisfied smirk on his face, thought, I like her style. He settled into the bed of a nearby pickup truck, munching on a chocolate bar to replenish his energy. His HK417 precision marksman rifle rested on the edge of the truck bed, trained on the approaching refugees.
Ten minutes later, Tessia reappeared in his scope, followed by a group of refugees.
"Tessia, where are we going?" the refugee leader said, a triumphant grin on his face. "See? I told you no one would mess with you if you stuck with me." His followers echoed his smugness.
Rounding a corner, Tessia turned and flashed them a dazzling smile. Then, to their horror, she revealed two grenades, pins already pulled.
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"Tessia—" the leader began, but a bullet pierced his forehead, spraying blood. Two more shots obliterated his head.
As the first shot rang out, Tessia hurled the grenades at the refugees' feet and sprinted back toward Thomas.
The explosions ripped through the parking garage. Despite their attempts to dodge, the confined space offered little escape. The refugees screamed and scattered, several falling dead or wounded.
The commotion drew the attention of other refugees in the parking garage. Dozens rushed toward the scene. Some, spotting the fleeing Tessia, raised their weapons.
Thomas was faster. His HK417 barked, bullets whizzing past Tessia to slam into the would-be attackers, forcing them to duck for cover.
Tessia reached Thomas and, following his instructions, quickly ignited the fuse on the shaped charges attached to the roller door. They took cover behind a concrete pillar.
The roller door buckled and exploded outward, creating an escape route. The arriving refugees, witnessing the carnage and the gaping hole in the door, realized the enemy was escaping.
"After them!" someone yelled.
But before they could react, several grenades, including a flashbang, arced through the air. The flashbang detonated, momentarily blinding and deafening the refugees. The delay, though brief, was enough. Three more explosions rocked the garage, leaving a trail of dead and wounded.
Thomas and Tessia slipped through the shattered roller door and fled toward the Itchy Private Cinema.
Five minutes later, The Bayonet arrived at the devastated parking garage, his face a mask of fury. Learning that the attackers had escaped through the roller door, he roared, "Get in the vehicles! After them!"
Leaving a few men to tend to the wounded, The Bayonet jumped into a modified off-road pickup truck. The remaining vehicles roared to life.
But as they began to move, a series of explosions erupted. Tires blew, undercarriages were ripped apart. Seven or eight vehicles were instantly disabled.
"Boss, it's grenades! Planted on the tires and undercarriages!" a refugee shouted. "They went off when the vehicles started moving!"
The Bayonet, shaken, ordered everyone out of the vehicles. A thorough search revealed five more booby-trapped vehicles and the remote detonators Thomas had planted near the roller door.
"How many explosives does this guy have?" The Bayonet exclaimed in disbelief. "Does he carry around a whole ammo crate full of them?"
Meanwhile, Thomas and Tessia, having circled around the building, reached the Itchy Private Cinema. The rooftop snipers, distracted by the chaos in the parking garage, had focused their attention on the street outside. Thomas, checking his virtual map, saw that the refugees had discovered his planted explosives. A pity, he thought, but still a good haul. Thirty or forty down. He was beginning to appreciate the efficiency of Forced Requisition I. Loot appeared in his hideout the moment its owner died, no messy cleanup required. Just pure, unadulterated mayhem, he thought with a grin.
As they approached room 106, Thomas suddenly stopped, his gaze fixed on something behind the cinema's bar.