Chapter 25: Phantom Shadows in Mexico

The night air in Mexico was thick with tension as the Phantom unit moved silently toward the warehouse. It was tucked away on the outskirts of a bustling city, shrouded by towering stacks of shipping containers and the faint glow of halogen lamps. 

Lira's intelligence had been precise—the dignitary, Mr. Volstein, was being held inside this heavily fortified location. But as Phantom observed from their vantage point, they realized the magnitude of the challenge ahead. 

The warehouse was surrounded by armed guards patrolling in staggered intervals. Trucks and vehicles were stationed at various entry points, their engines idling as if ready for a quick escape. Phantoms counted at least two dozen hostiles, not including the unknown numbers inside. 

"Outnumbered three-to-one," muttered Rhys, adjusting his scope. "We've walked into a hornet's nest." 

Dale's sharp gaze scanned the area. "We improvise. Lira's intel is solid, and Volstein's life is on the line. We're not leaving without him." 

---

Gathered behind the cover of a dilapidated container, Dale outlined their strategy. His voice was low, commanding, and deliberate. 

"Zane, you'll disable their comms and cut the power. Lira, Rhys, and I will breach the south entrance while Axel takes point at the west. We draw their attention while Mira and Gavin cover us from the rooftops. Once we extract Volstein, we retreat to the rendezvous point." 

"Copy that," Zane said, already setting up his jammer device. 

Lira frowned. "We're going in blind, Captain. If they have backup inside…" 

Dale's tone hardened. "Then we'll adapt. Failure isn't an option." 

The team dispersed into position, their movements synchronized like clockwork. As Zane worked, the guards' radios began to emit static, and the faint hum of lights inside the warehouse flickered out. 

"Power's down," Zane whispered into his comm. 

"Move," Dale ordered. 

---

The team moved with precision. Rhys kicked open the south door, and Dale led the charge, his silenced weapon taking down two guards before they could react. Lira followed close behind, neutralizing another with a swift strike to the temple. 

Inside, the scene was chaotic. The dim emergency lights cast eerie shadows as armed hostiles scrambled to respond. The sound of gunfire erupted, deafening in the enclosed space. 

"Keep moving!" Dale barked, his voice cutting through the chaos. 

Axel's voice crackled over the comms. "West side breached. Heavy resistance." 

"Hold them off," Dale replied, firing a precise shot that took out a sniper perched on the upper railing. 

The team pushed forward, systematically clearing rooms as they searched for Volstein. They encountered fierce resistance—grenades exploded, sending debris flying, and the air was thick with smoke and gunfire. 

"Found him!" Lira shouted from a back room. 

Dale and Rhys rushed in to find Mr. Volstein bound and bloodied but alive. 

"Can you walk?" Dale asked, crouching beside him. 

Volstein nodded weakly. "I've had worse." 

"Let's move," Dale said, helping him to his feet. 

---

As they made their way to the extraction point, the enemy regrouped, their numbers overwhelming. 

"We're surrounded," Rhys growled, firing off a round. 

Dale scanned their surroundings, formulating a plan on the fly. Spotting a stack of propane tanks nearby, he signaled to Lira. 

"Explosives," he said curtly. 

Lira grinned, tossing a grenade with precision. The resulting explosion rocked the warehouse, sending enemies scattering. In the chaos, the Phantoms made their escape, dragging Volstein with them. 

Outside, Mira and Gavin provided covering fire from their rooftop positions, picking off guards who pursued the team. 

"Clear," Mira said over the comms. 

The team piled into their waiting vehicles, peeling away as reinforcements arrived at the warehouse. 

---

Back at their safe house, Dale stood over two of the captured enemies—bloodied and restrained to chairs in a dimly lit basement. 

"You have one chance to make this easy," he said coldly, his voice echoing in the room. "Who planned the ambush?" 

The first man spat at his feet. "Go to hell." 

Dale's expression didn't change. He nodded to Rhys, who stepped forward and delivered a swift punch to the man's jaw. 

"You misunderstand," Dale said, his tone deadly calm. "This isn't a negotiation." 

The second captive flinched as Dale leaned in, his gaze piercing. "Start talking." 

When silence met his demand, Dale's patience wore thin. He grabbed a nearby blade, holding it up to the light. 

"This blade is sharp enough to cut through bone," he said conversationally. "But I'm not interested in testing its limits on you. Yet." 

Lira crossed her arms from the corner of the room. "You might want to start cooperating. He's not bluffing." 

After another round of silence, Dale drove the blade into the table between the men, the sound reverberating in the room. 

The first man broke. "Alright! Alright, I'll talk!" 

Dale leaned back, crossing his arms. "I'm listening." 

"It wasn't us," the man stammered. "We were hired." 

"By who?" 

The man hesitated, glancing at his companion, who shook his head. Dale's patience snapped. 

"Names," he demanded, his voice a growl. 

The second man finally spoke. "A state… a rival of Valyshire. They wanted to frame Vaeloris, make it look like your side attacked the treaty supporters." 

Dale's eyes narrowed. "Which state?" 

The first man gulped. "I don't know. We're just hired guns. But they… they have ties to someone close to your enemy's queen." 

"Queen Eleonora?" Lira said, her voice sharp. 

The man nodded. "She's… connected. She pulls strings." 

Dale frowned, his mind racing. If Queen Eleonora's influence extended to foreign enemies, the implications were catastrophic. 

The second man coughed, blood dripping from his lips. "They have… more targets." 

"Who?" Dale pressed, stepping closer. 

The man's head lolled to the side, his strength fading. "A woman… close to you," he rasped. 

Dale froze, his mind spinning. Mireille? The thought hit him like a punch to the gut. But then another image surfaced—Gray. 

His jaw tightened. No. She's not close to me.

The denial felt hollow even to himself, and his frown deepened. 

"Who?" Dale demanded again, but the man slumped forward, his last breath leaving his body. 

The room was silent, save for the steady hum of the overhead light. 

"We need to move fast," Lira said, breaking the tension. "If they have more targets…" 

Dale nodded, his expression grim. "We report back to Vaeloris immediately. This isn't over." 

As the team filed out of the basement, Dale lingered for a moment, his thoughts lingering on the dying man's words. 

A woman close to you. 

His fists clenched at his sides. Whether it was Mireille, Gray, or someone else, he wouldn't let them fall victim to the same forces that had nearly torn his country apart. 

The mission wasn't over. Not yet.