The docks were a labyrinth of rusted cranes, abandoned shipping containers, and decaying piers stretching into the churning black waters. The sound of the helicopter overhead was relentless, the whine of the rotors a constant presence that threatened to rip through the night. Grimm and Volkova moved fast, keeping low, staying in the shadows, their footsteps muffled by the thick fog rolling off the water.
"Keep your head down," Grimm muttered, scanning their surroundings. The docks were deserted—at least on the surface. He knew better than to trust the silence. This was a setup, a trap, and they were the prey.
Volkova moved beside him, her eyes constantly flicking between the shadows and the looming containers, her rifle ready. She was as alert as ever, her mind working through every possible scenario, but even she couldn't predict what was coming next.
Grimm's pulse quickened. They needed to find the extraction point. The boat was supposed to be waiting at the far end of the docks, hidden from view. They'd arranged for a pick-up, but he didn't like how this felt. He had a bad feeling that they weren't going to make it there without a fight.
"Head for the loading bay," Grimm said, pointing toward a darkened area between two massive container cranes. "We'll have some cover there. It's the only chance we've got."
Volkova nodded, not bothering to argue. She knew they had no other options.
They moved toward the loading bay, but as they approached, the ground beneath their feet seemed to shift. A loud crunch echoed through the air, followed by the unmistakable sound of boots hitting concrete. Grimm froze, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Shit," he muttered under his breath. They'd been spotted.
A squad of Helix enforcers emerged from the shadows, their matte-black armor blending seamlessly with the night. They were fast, efficient, and deadly—everything Grimm hated about these mercenary forces. They weren't just hired guns; they were precision tools designed to eliminate threats like him.
"Grimm Mercer," the lead enforcer called out, his voice muffled by the helmet. "We've been looking for you."
Grimm didn't hesitate. He pulled his rifle up, aiming at the nearest target. The first shot rang out, the crack of the suppressed round echoing through the dockyard. The enforcer dropped without a sound, but there were more coming—too many for them to take down quietly.
"Get to cover!" Grimm shouted.
Volkova didn't need to be told. She dove behind a nearby shipping container, her rifle snapping into place as she took aim at the approaching soldiers. Grimm followed, keeping low, using the container as a shield as the enforcers returned fire.
The gunfire rang out, and Grimm could feel the bullets whizzing past, some of them striking the steel container with a dull thud. His mind was razor-focused. He could see the enemy's movements, feel their tactics. They were well-coordinated, and they weren't just after him—they were hunting them both.
"These bastards aren't giving up," Grimm muttered, checking the chamber of his rifle. He was down to his last few rounds. "We need a plan, and we need it now."
Volkova glanced over at him, her face set in a grim expression. "If we make a break for it, we won't make it to the boat. We need to hold them off long enough to get to the extraction point."
Grimm nodded, already formulating a plan. "I'll draw their fire. You get to the other side of the dock and set up. If we're lucky, we can get a clear shot and take them out from two angles."
Volkova didn't flinch. "Just make sure you don't get yourself killed."
Grimm smirked, though there was little humor in it. "I'm not planning on it."
He waited for a brief lull in the gunfire, then he bolted from his cover, sprinting toward the opposite side of the dock. Bullets kicked up the concrete at his feet as the enforcers unleashed a barrage in his direction. Grimm didn't look back—he couldn't afford to. He ran with every ounce of training, his body moving on instinct, his mind focused solely on survival.
He reached the edge of the dock and slid behind another container, panting heavily as he took cover. His eyes flicked back to Volkova's position—she was already in place, rifle raised, ready for her shot.
"Now," Grimm barked into his comm, and Volkova didn't hesitate. She pulled the trigger.
The shot rang out, and one of the enforcers dropped, a clean shot to the head. The others scrambled, trying to find cover, but they were caught off guard. Grimm's rifle fired next, another enforcer going down. But there were still too many of them. They were surrounded, and they needed more firepower.
"Reinforcements are on their way," Grimm muttered to himself, watching the docks through the scope of his rifle. The helicopter was still overhead, hovering like a vulture, waiting for its next kill. He could feel the pressure mounting, the weight of the situation closing in.
"We need to get to the boat, now," Grimm said, his voice low but urgent. "We're running out of time."
Volkova nodded and motioned for him to follow. She was already moving, darting from cover to cover with the speed and precision of a predator. Grimm followed close behind, his rifle ready, scanning for any sign of movement.
They reached the end of the dock, and in the distance, the small boat they had arranged for the extraction was waiting. The engine hummed quietly, barely audible over the sound of the helicopter.
But there was one final obstacle standing between them and freedom—a massive shipping crane, its arm lowered to block their path. Grimm's heart skipped a beat. It was a perfect kill zone.
"Get down!" he shouted, pulling Volkova to the ground just as the crane's spotlight flicked on, illuminating them both.
The helicopter's heavy gunfire erupted, raining down on their position. Grimm returned fire, his shots piercing the darkness as he tried to suppress the incoming fire. Volkova was already moving, her sniper rifle in hand, taking out the enemies that appeared in the crane's spotlight.
"This is it!" Grimm shouted, his voice hoarse with adrenaline. "We make it to the boat, or we die here!"
The last few enforcers were closing in, and they were too close for comfort. But Grimm didn't hesitate. He surged forward, taking out the last of the enemy soldiers in his path, and reached the boat. Volkova was right behind him.
"Go! Go! Go!" Grimm yelled, shoving her onto the boat as he turned to cover their rear.
The boat's engine roared to life, and they sped away from the docks, the churning water splashing against the hull. Behind them, the helicopter hovered in place, but it was too late. They were out of range.
Grimm exhaled slowly, his body still buzzing with the aftereffects of combat. They were alive. But the war was far from over.