The city of Dehloran was nestled against the rugged terrain of the Iranian border, its mix of crumbling buildings and modern constructions a stark reminder of its strategic importance. It was quiet, deceptively so, as the Four Horsemen moved through the darkness, their approach veiled by the natural contours of the land.

War crouched at the edge of a rocky outcrop, his binoculars trained on the compound below. It was an unassuming structure, its concrete walls blending seamlessly with the surrounding architecture. Guards moved in pairs, their movements precise but unhurried—professional, but unaware of the storm about to descend.

“Minimal patrols on the east side,” War whispered, his voice low but clear. “Two-man teams, staggered at ten-minute intervals. Sniper on the roof, but his field of vision doesn’t cover the northwest entry.”

Conquest adjusted his rifle, his scope focused on the sniper. “Not for long.”

Famine scanned the compound with his tablet, his eyes narrowing as he studied the thermal signatures within. “Basement’s hot. Looks like servers and a command center. That’s where they’re keeping their data.”

“And that’s our priority,” War said. “Conquest, take the sniper. Famine, set up the distraction. Marcus, you’re with me. We hit the basement fast and clean.”

Marcus nodded, his face a mask of grim determination. The past few weeks had been a bloody blur, but this was different. This wasn’t just about vengeance—it was about answers.

Conquest shifted into position, his movements silent as he settled behind a rock outcrop. His suppressed rifle barked once, and the sniper on the roof slumped forward, his body catching on the edge of the parapet.

“Clear,” Conquest said, his voice calm.

Famine smirked, setting a small satchel charge near a cluster of parked vehicles. “Time to wake them up.”

The explosion rocked the compound, sending a plume of fire and smoke into the air. Guards scrambled, shouting orders as they rushed toward the source of the blast. The distraction worked perfectly, pulling the bulk of the security forces away from the main building.

War and Marcus moved swiftly, slipping through the northwest entry and into the compound. The interior was a maze of narrow hallways and reinforced doors, the faint hum of machinery guiding them toward their target.

Two guards emerged from a side corridor, rifles raised. War dropped the first with a silenced shot to the chest, while Marcus closed the distance on the second, disarming him with brutal efficiency before snapping his neck.

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“They’re on alert,” Marcus said quietly.

“Doesn’t matter,” War replied, his voice steady. “Keep moving.”

They reached a heavy steel door marked with Persian script. Famine’s voice crackled over the comm. “That’s the one. Security’s routed through a local network—give me a minute to bypass.”

Marcus crouched near the door, his pistol trained on the hallway behind them. War stayed focused on the objective, his hand hovering near the charge he carried.

“Any surprises on the other side?” War asked.

Famine chuckled. “A few. Five hostiles, armed. And a whole lot of tech you’re going to want intact. Don’t blow the room, okay?”

“Noted,” War muttered.

The door hissed open, and Marcus and War moved in, their weapons raised. The guards inside reacted quickly, but not quickly enough. War’s rifle barked, dropping two men in rapid succession, while Marcus moved with lethal precision, a blur of motion as he dispatched the remaining three with brutal efficiency.

The room was quiet again, save for the hum of servers and the faint crackle of a dying radio.

Famine and Conquest joined them moments later, the latter scanning the room with his rifle while Famine moved to the servers. He pulled a small device from his pack, plugging it into the central terminal.

“This is going to take a few minutes,” Famine said, his fingers dancing over the keyboard. “Harrington’s paranoid, but I’ve seen worse.”

Marcus stood near the door, his gaze fixed on the bodies littering the floor. Each of them had been a piece in Harrington’s game, a pawn sacrificed for a larger purpose. But there was no time for reflection now.

“Anything useful yet?” War asked, his tone clipped.

“Give me a second,” Famine muttered. “These encryptions are—wait. Got something. Communications logs, financial transactions. And… here we go. Direct orders from Harrington.”

“Locations?” Marcus asked, his voice sharp.

Famine nodded, scrolling through the data. “Three major hubs still active. Two in Europe, one in Central America. But this…” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “There’s a separate file here. Off-network. Looks like a personal contingency plan.”

“Can you decrypt it?” War asked.

“Not here,” Famine said. “We’ll need a secure location.”

Marcus stepped closer, his voice low and cold. “What’s in it?”

Famine met his gaze. “If I had to guess? Insurance. Harrington’s always got a way out.”

The compound was a hive of activity as more guards poured in, their shouts echoing through the halls. The Horsemen moved as one, their retreat calculated and precise.

Famine held the data drive close as he followed War and Conquest through the northwest corridor. Marcus took the rear, his pistol snapping off shots that kept the pursuing guards at bay.

They reached the exterior just as the remaining guards regrouped. Conquest tossed a flashbang into their midst, the deafening explosion buying the team enough time to scale the outer wall and disappear into the rugged terrain.

The sound of sirens and shouting faded into the night as the Horsemen regrouped on a rocky ridge overlooking the compound. Famine held up the drive, his smirk faint but triumphant.

“We’ve got what we need,” he said.

Marcus’s eyes burned with determination. “Then we finish this.”

War placed a hand on his shoulder, his grip firm. “Not yet. First, we figure out where Harrington’s running to.”

“And then?” Marcus asked, his voice sharp.

War’s expression was cold. “Then we make sure he has nowhere left to hide.”