The smoke from the gunfire hung in the air like a veil, thick and acrid. Grimm moved through it, keeping low, his eyes scanning the wreckage for any sign of movement. He could feel the tension coiling in his chest, the quiet before the storm. The first shot had been perfect—Volkova's aim unerring, her rifle a deadly extension of her will. But now the enemy knew they were here. And they were coming for them.
Grimm's heart raced, his senses on high alert as the sound of boots crunching on debris reached his ears. His grip tightened around his rifle as he shifted into position, crouching behind a twisted piece of metal. He could hear the hum of the gunship overhead, its engines a constant reminder of the death that hovered just out of reach.
"Valkyrie," Grimm hissed into the comms, keeping his voice low. "They're flanking from the north. I need you to cover me on the east side. We're about to be surrounded."
Volkova's response came almost immediately, calm and calculated. "On it. Keep your head down."
Grimm didn't need to be told twice. He slipped through the wreckage, moving with the precision of a predator on the hunt. His rifle was a part of him now, and his eyes never left the shadows. Every rustle, every whisper of movement could mean death.
He crept around the edge of the crumbling building, his boots barely making a sound on the wet ground. Ahead, he spotted two figures emerging from behind a broken wall, weapons raised, their movements slow and deliberate. They were hunting him. But they didn't know he was already on their six.
Grimm smiled grimly, taking a deep breath. His pulse was steady, his focus unshakable. This was what he lived for.
Before either of them could react, Grimm pulled the trigger. The shot was swift, brutal, and without hesitation. The first man collapsed in a heap, his body jerking violently before falling still. The second soldier barely had time to register what had happened before Grimm was on him, barreling forward and slamming his elbow into the man's throat. The soldier gasped for air, his weapon slipping from his hands as Grimm drove his knee into his chest, knocking the wind out of him.
The soldier's eyes widened in terror as Grimm pulled his sidearm, the muzzle pressed to his forehead.
"Where is Razor?" Grimm demanded, his voice cold, steady.
The man's eyes flickered, a moment of hesitation before he spoke. "We… we don't know. We just follow orders."
Grimm didn't waste any more time. He pulled the trigger, silencing the man forever.
He let out a breath, wiping the sweat from his brow. The gunfire had stopped for now, but he knew this was far from over. Razor and his men were relentless, and they'd come in full force. They were running out of time.
"Valkyrie," Grimm said, his voice urgent. "We need to move now. We can't stay here."
Volkova's voice crackled over the comms. "I've got your six. Get to the rendezvous point."
Grimm didn't hesitate. He darted through the wreckage, moving swiftly, staying low to avoid being spotted by the drones circling overhead. The rendezvous point wasn't far—just a few hundred yards away, hidden in the ruins of an old storage facility. But getting there alive was another matter entirely.
As he neared the rendezvous, he spotted movement from the corner of his eye. More soldiers, this time in full tactical gear. They were closing in fast, their weapons raised and ready to fire.
"Damn it," Grimm muttered under his breath. "They're getting too close."
He reached for a grenade clipped to his vest, pulling the pin with a swift motion. He threw it in a wide arc, the explosive landing just at the edge of the group. The soldiers barely had time to react before the blast erupted in a cloud of dust and shrapnel, sending them scattering for cover.
Grimm didn't wait to see if the explosion did its job. He pressed forward, making a beeline for the storage facility, his heart pounding in his chest. Volkova was waiting for him there, her rifle aimed downrange, scanning for any sign of movement.
She glanced up as he approached, her eyes narrowing. "You're not the most subtle, Reaper."
Grimm didn't respond, his eyes locked on the entrance to the facility. It was a tight space, but it would have to do. They had no other choice.
"We'll hold up here," he said, panting slightly. "But we need a plan, and we need it now."
Volkova didn't answer immediately. She was already setting up her sniper rifle, positioning herself near the window to cover their exit if needed. Finally, she spoke, her voice low and steady.
"You're right," she said. "We can't fight Kessler's men head-on. They'll outgun us. But we don't need to win. We just need to survive long enough to find out who's pulling the strings."
Grimm's eyes narrowed, his mind working through the possibilities. Volkova was right. They didn't have the manpower to take on Kessler's entire force. But survival was a different story. If they could get the intel they needed, they might just have a shot at turning the tables.
He exhaled, his resolve hardening. "Alright, then. We move when you're ready. We get in, get the intel, and we get the hell out."
Volkova nodded, her expression unreadable. "I'll cover you."
With that, Grimm stepped forward, moving toward the facility's entrance. His heart was racing, but his mind was calm, focused. This was just another mission—another target to eliminate. He wouldn't let Kessler win. Not this time.