The secured safe house in the capital of Veridia was dark, lit only by a tactical lamp focused on the map of Victor Gallo's operation. The compound itself was a fortress, but Aria Vance, Elias Vance, Zara, and Marcus focused on the single biggest weakness: the money.
"The compound security is predictable but tight," Elias confirmed, his finger tapping the north wall on the map. Thermal imaging is heavy on the north wall. The only weak spot is the south access road, but it's mined. We need to hit the logistics first.
Aria nodded, her finger tracing a route on the map that bypassed the compound completely. Exactly. We don't breach the compound; we cut its main artery. Gallo moves cash every Thursday at 23:00 hours. That's tonight. The transport is a standard armored van—no air support, minimal escort. It's an easy target, and hitting it forces him to pull his mercenaries out of the perimeter to secure the rest of his network. We hit the convoy, then we hit the compound twenty minutes later.
Elias leaned back, a faint smile playing on his lips. A distraction, then a swift decapitation. Gallo leaves the country on Friday morning; we only have one shot at this. I'll need four hours to calibrate the EMP pulse to scramble their comms as the van passes the river crossing.
"Plan confirmed," Aria stated, her voice cold and tactical. She pointed to the logistics. Elias, you run the EMP and the vehicle takedown. Marcus, you are with Elias. You secure the convoy cash and plant the disinformation package linking the hit to a rival cartel. Zara, you and I have the harder job: neutralize Gallo himself during the chaos. He won't be at the compound; he'll be celebrating the successful cash transport at his downtown nightclub, yes commander Zara replied.
Hours later, the atmosphere shifted from planning to execution. The team dressed in black, high-grade combat gear except for Aria.
Aria looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror. Gone was the professional corporate executive. She was now a weapon designed for seduction and death. She wore a short, fire-engine red dress, a stark contrast to her dark hair and serious eyes. The dress was designed to be easily shredded and concealed a high-carbon steel knife strapped to her inner thigh.
Aria thought: He likes beautiful, reckless distractions. I will be the last one he ever sees.
"Zara," Aria ordered, turning to her operative. You run the passive monitoring grid outside the club. If Gallo leaves, you alert me immediately. Elias, status on the EMP charge?
Pulse is set to fire at 23:00 hours precisely. Comms are clear on our end, Elias confirmed, handing Aria a tiny, concealed earpiece. Be careful, Aria. This is not the field. This is close range.
Aria ignored the warning. Close range was where her training truly shone.
At 22:30 hours, Aria walked into Gallo's opulent nightclub, a gaudy fortress of red velvet and bad taste in the capital's entertainment district. The music was loud, the champagne flowing, and the air was thick with smoke and desperation.
Victor Gallo was exactly where Zara's intelligence placed him: in a private, elevated booth, surrounded by three massive bodyguards and several local officials. Gallo was a squat, dangerous man with thick fingers and an arrogant smile, wearing a garishly expensive suit.
Aria began her walk across the floor. She moved with a calculated, deliberate sexuality. Not aggressive, but perfectly confident. Her eyes held a challenge that cut through the noise. Every head turned.
She approached the booth. As expected, one of Gallo's massive bodyguards moved to block her path, his hand extended.
Gallo, however, had already seen her. His eyes, usually cold and calculating, were glazed with immediate lust for the aggressive beauty in red. He raised a thick hand, stopping his guard.
"Let her pass," Gallo commanded, his voice thick with interest. He looked Aria up and down, a possessive smirk forming. "A doll like you shouldn't walk alone."
Aria slipped past the guard and stopped right beside the booth. She didn't ask permission. She simply lowered herself onto Gallo's lap, straddling him with practiced, seamless movement. His guards tensed, but Gallo just roared with drunken laughter, wrapping his thick arms around her waist.
She used the moment of contact, her body pressed against his, to lean in close, her lips brushing his ear. Her voice was not seductive. It was a deadly, low whisper.
Let's go to your private room, Victor. I have a very private proposal.
Gallo, completely intoxicated by her boldness, gave the order. He pushed her off his lap and stumbled to his feet, gesturing toward a secured door in the back of the booth. "Lead the way, bella."
Gallo's private room was soundproofed and heavy with the scent of cigars. As soon as the thick door closed, Aria let the mask drop.
"The transport leaves at 23:00, Victor," Aria stated, her eyes now entirely cold. "You'll be short a few million tonight."
Gallo didn't have time to react. He reached for his pocket, but Aria was already moving. In one swift, trained motion, she snatched a solid silver fork from a plate on the table. She drove the tines deep into his right thigh. A painful but non-lethal strike designed to elicit an immediate, agonizing response.
Gallo screamed. A high, sharp sound instantly cut off by the room's soundproofing, but the sheer volume was enough to trip an internal alarm.
"Bitch!" Gallo roared, his face contorted in agony and shock. He scrambled backward, pulling out a heavy handgun from his waistband.
The fight was instant and brutal. Aria, moving with the hyper-focus of her mercenary training, did not grab her gun. She needed to be quiet and fast.
Gallo fired a wild shot that hit the wall, showering plaster. Aria ducked low, her movement economical, avoiding the bulky furniture. Gallo was big and strong. Trained for street fights, not precision combat.
He charged her, his heavy body a weapon. Aria met the charge head-on, delivering a punishing open-palm strike to his throat, stunning him. As he stumbled, she twisted her body, using her leverage and momentum to wrap her leg around his neck and shoulder, pulling him backward over a low table. They crashed to the floor.
Gallo screamed, from the pain and from the realization he was completely outmaneuvered. Aria used the force of the fall to secure his right arm in a tight, reverse kimura lock. She wrenched upward with a savage, final effort.
A sickening CRACK! Resonated in the room. Gallo's arm was broken.
As the sound faded, the room was silent save for Gallo's ragged, whimpering breathing.
Aria moved like a predator, her face utterly devoid of emotion. Her hand went to her inner thigh, peeling away the fabric to expose the knife. She pulled the high-carbon steel blade, its edge reflecting the tactical light.
Just as she raised the knife, a massive, muffled THUD shook the building.
The EMP pulse had successfully hit the armored convoy at the river crossing. The distraction was a success.
Outside the private room, the internal alarms were blaring. Gallo's bodyguards, confused by the EMP pulse and the internal alarm, were rushing into the back hallway.
A loud, shattering explosion ripped through the air as Elias, Zara, and Marcus, now in full tactical gear, blasted the window of the adjoining room with a controlled charge. They poured into the hallway, guns blazing. Their silence was only broken by the rapid, suppressed thwip-thwip-thwip of their weapons.
Inside the private room, Gallo saw the window explosion. He made one final, desperate move, grabbing a shard of broken glass.
Aria was faster. She brought the knife down, cutting Gallo's throat in a single, surgical slit. The blood spurted, covering the red dress in a dark, violent stain.
She turned, grabbing Gallo's heavy pistol, and blasted the lock off the private room door. She stepped into the hallway, joining the fray.
The fighting was intense. Gallo's mercenaries, surprised by the EMP and the coordinated attack, were disorganized, but heavily armed. Elias was covering the central hallway, shouting short, tactical commands. Zara and Marcus were moving along the perimeter, eliminating threats with ruthless efficiency.
Aria moved into the main corridor, her black earpiece relaying real-time updates from Elias. She fired her silenced weapon, dropping two men attempting to flank Marcus.
Suddenly, a hidden side door burst open. A lone, panicked mercenary, missed in the initial sweep, stumbled out, firing his assault rifle wildly.
"ARIA, LEFT!" Elias screamed into the comms. A split second too late.
A sharp, searing fire ripped through Aria's side. She felt the heavy, shocking impact as a high-caliber bullet slammed into her lower abdomen, just above her hip bone.
The pain was immediate, blinding, and absolute. It was the same visceral shock that had paralyzed her sixteen-year-old self in the forest, but the years of training kicked in immediately.
Aria did not fall. She did not scream. She used the shocking pain as fuel, forcing her trembling hands to maintain control. She spun and emptied the remaining rounds of Gallo's pistol into the mercenary, dropping him instantly. Shooting.
The rest of the hallway went silent as the last of Gallo's men fell.
Elias sprinted toward her, dropping to his knees beside her.
"Aria! You're bleeding, damn it! Elias's voice was strained. The professional calm shattered by fear. He ripped open her blood-soaked red dress, revealing the devastating, rapidly darkening stain spreading across her abdomen.
Aria ignored the wound, her breathing shallow, focused on the mission. Gallo is neutralized. We need to secure the files. Marcus, Zara, secure the room. Eliminate all comms.
"Forget the files, we're extracting NOW!" Elias roared, lifting her carefully into his arms. The two of them were covered in blood. Gallo's and Aria's.
Zara and Marcus moved immediately, planting small charges on the central computer and grabbing the mission files.
The team was gone within two minutes, leaving behind only dead men, the smell of gunpowder, and the chilling, brutal evidence of a network's rapid, violent end.
They returned to the secure safe house. Elias immediately stripped off her clothes, exposing the serious wound. The bullet had lodged deep into the muscle tissue beside the stomach, dangerously close to her organs, but she was stable.
Aria gritted her teeth, ignoring the tears of pure physical shock that ran down her temples. Get the emergency kit, Elias. I need to remove it now.
Elias did not argue. He brought the kit. Aria looked at the small metal probe and the sutures. She ripped a strip of cloth from her ruined dress. No time for the private doctor. Aria breathed deep, pulling the knife from her thigh holster. This was simple work. Fast, clean.
She took the probe. She pushed the thin metal into the wound. Pain flared hot and blinding. She found the bullet. Elias gripped her hand, his face pale. Aria ignored him. She focused only on the metal buried in her flesh. She pulled the bullet out. The small, deformed piece of lead fell onto the cot. Blood flowed hot and fast, but not uncontrollably. She quickly cleaned the wound, then sutured it closed. Survival was muscle memory. The entire process took less than five minutes. The only sound was her shallow, ragged breath. She removed the bullet.
She had survived the forest. She would survive this. Her only focus was not to let the pain control her, a lesson learned years ago in the soldier's camp.
Aria is severely injured but alive. Gallo is neutralized. The mission was a tactical success.