Dark clouds hung over the command room as the key members sat at the round table. All eyes were turned to the screen where the agency's emblem was dispyed - a simplified symbol of bck wings arranged in an incomplete circle. No inscription. No name. The agency was supposed to be covered in state secrets and although it was, technically, part of SOCOM, it remained an independent unit. A unit that officially did not exist.

  The sign disappeared and the screen lit up to reveal an aerial view of Kansas state. Commander Nowicka and Vance exchanged hard-to-read gnces over the table. The tension was palpable and seemed to spread around the room like a contagious disease. Intelligence Chief Hansen, who had just entered the meeting, coughed, then pulled a stack of documents and reading gsses from his briefcase.

  “I'm sure many of you have already heard unofficial information, so I'll spare us the unnecessary introduction,” He said, sweeping his gaze across other participants. “Red Serpents are back.”

  There was a moment of silence.

  "That's impossible,” Director Rickford opposed. “They were eradicated three years ago after the incident in Wichita."

  “Kill one and two heads grow back.” A voice rang out from behind.

  Hansen zoomed in on the map. "The incident eliminated their leadership structure. We all considered the organization neutralized." He clicked to a new slide showing photos of a warehouse. "We were mistaken."

  He dispyed several surveilnce photos of men loading crates into unmarked vans. One of them had a snake tattoo covering his arm.

  "This is from two weeks ago in Bogotá, Colombia. Our tech teams have been working round the clock to recover data from the drive retrieved during our st operation. According to the data drive, the organization has been rebuilding over the past three months. Weapon smuggling, human and drug trafficking. They’re heavily recruiting new people. We believe they're pnning something big. The scale of weapons acquisition suggests preparation for a major operation."

  Rickford leaned forward with concern painted on his face. "How did we miss this? Three years of nothing and now they're back with this level of organization?"

  "They've been smart," Hansen expined. "Operating under different names, using new methods. It wasn't until we cross-referenced the tattoo identification that we confirmed it was the same group."

  Commander Nowicka studied the images carefully. "What's the timeline here?"

  "Based on what we've decrypted, they're in preparation phase. Major movement of assets, but no clear target identified yet." Hansen adjusted his gsses. "We're still working on decrypting parts of the drive."

  Vance, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke. "We need to hit them now. Hard. Before they can execute whatever they're pnning."

  Nowicka frowned. "That would be premature. We don't have enough information yet."

  "We know they're mobilizing weapons. That's all we need to know.”

  "A hasty response would be a mistake. We should continue gathering intelligence and begin mission pnning now, but deployment should wait until after the New Year."

  Vance moved his jaw. “We need to neutralize them before they get a foothold again. Every day we dey is another day they strengthen their position.”

  "And every premature mission risks catastrophic failure," Nowicka replied evenly. "Need I remind you what happened when you rushed the Petersburg operation?"

  The room fell silent at the mention of Petersburg. All eyes turned to General Werber, who had been silent until now. As the head of tactical operations, his strike team had been decimated in that mission.

  "The mission was completed," Vance said, unmoved. "The facility was neutralized."

  Werber ughed coldly. "Completed? You knew what we were walking into. The reports from your advance team had already indicated the facility was more fortified than initially assessed.”

  "We had a window of opportunity—"

  "You had an agenda," Werber cut him off. "And my men paid for it."

  Director Rickford cleared his throat. "This isn't helping us address the current situation. We need to decide on a course of action regarding the Red Serpents."

  "I propose we put it to a vote," Hansen suggested, sensing the growing tension.

  Nowicka nodded. "Agreed. Let's settle this."

  "All in favor of immediate action?" Hansen asked.

  Vance raised his hand, followed by Rickford and two other council members.

  "Those in favor of gathering intelligence and deploying after the New Year?"

  Nowicka raised her hand, along with Werber and two others.

  All eyes turned to Hansen, who had abstained.

  "Chief?" Nowicka prompted. "Your vote breaks the tie."

  Hansen looked between Nowicka, Vance, Nowicka again. Talking for one side could have caused a chain reaction and be catastrophic. It was safer to py on two fronts.

  "I suggest we continue surveilnce and intelligence gathering through the holiday period," Hansen said, carefully watching Vance's reaction. "We position our assets, prepare our teams, and strike immediately after the Christmas break."

  "That's reasonable," Nowicka conceded. "We maintain operational readiness while continuing to gather intelligence."

  Werber nodded. "My teams can prepare contingency pns based on the information as it comes in."

  Vance's jaw tightened, but after a moment, he gave a curt nod. "Fine. But I want daily updates on the intelligence gathering, and I want strike teams ready to deploy within twelve hours if necessary."

  "Agreed," Hansen said. "I'll coordinate with both your departments to ensure seamless information flow."

  As the meeting adjourned, Nowicka caught Vance's eye across the table. Both of them knew this was merely a temporary truce in their ongoing power struggle. The real battle was still to come.

  "Hansen," Nowicka called as everyone began filing out. "A word, please."

  As Hansen stayed behind, Vance lingered at the doorway for a moment, watching them with narrowed eyes before disappearing down the corridor.

  ***

  Bke spent half the day searching for Ramirez. Each person he asked gave him a different direction as to where his chatty friend might be, as it turned out, none correct. Where the hell was he? It wasn’t like he had any important business to attend to. The paperwork was already done, and all the tech teams were still busy recovering whatever was left on that data drive. Not much to do.

  He expected to see him somewhere in break rooms, sharing test events, gossip, stories. He was always surrounded by people. How was Bke supposed to believe no one knew where and what he was doing? And with who?

  The realization suddenly hit Bke. He looked at the corridor number, then slowly turned around and walked towards the medical room.

  Even from behind the closed doors, he could hear excited shouts and ughter. His hand paused on the doorknob.

  “No, no! Go left! The snake is gonna eat its tail!”

  “I know what I’m doing, kid. I pyed this game before—WHAT?! HOW?”

  James burst out ughing.

  “My thumbs are just too big for these controllers,” Ramirez moaned.

  “Excuses. My turn now!”

  After a brief moment of hesitation, Bke walked into the room. Both men seemed too absorbed in the game to notice him. Ramirez had somehow managed to get onto the bed, squeezing in next to James in the tight space. They were leaning against the metal headboard, staring at the screen of the cell phone that James was now holding with his good hand, pressing insistently.

  But what truly surprised Bke was how happy James looked. How different his expression was from the one he usually knew. Not the nonchant fake smile he constantly wore on his face, but something completely sincere, real, leaking out even when he tried to suppress it. His eyes were lit up in pure joy, like a child’s.

  “I’m gonna beat your highest score with one hand soon.”

  "Don't get cocky now. I was just warming up before," Ramirez said, leaning closer to watch James navigate through the level. He squinted at the screen. "Wait, is that—? How are you at 430 already?"

  James grinned. “Skills.”

  “You're totally cheating," Ramirez protested.

  James was too focused to respond, tongue out in concentration. Ramirez shook his head with a smile and eventually looked up. His eyes widened slightly upon meeting Bke.

  “Hey,” he acknowledged, but made no move to retreat from his position. “Need anything?”

  James gnced up to see who he was talking to and nearly dropped the phone, as if caught doing something illegal. His smile dimmed and he straightened up despite the obvious discomfort it caused him.

  “You,” Bke said curtly, fixing his gaze on Ramirez.

  The man sighed, reluctantly pushing himself off the bed and pocketing his phone. Before leaving, he reached towards James and affectionately ruffled his hair, which James pretended to hate but visibly enjoyed.

  “Well, see you. Don’t burn the room while I’m gone, sí?”

  James fshed his trademark smile and saluted goodbye, though his gaze kept darting towards Bke.

  After leaving, Bke and Ramirez walked side by side in momentary silence.

  “Since when are you two so chummy?" Bke asked when they were at a sufficient distance from the medical room.

  Ramirez raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? We've always been 'chummy.' Some of us don't maintain a ten-foot emotional barrier." He studied the older man’s profile. “Is this why you called me?”

  “No.”

  “You sure? Maybe you want hair ruffles too?" Ramirez raised his hands threateningly, wiggling his fingers.

  Bke fixed him with a ft stare. "Touch my hair and lose a hand."

  The warning look in Bke’s eyes made Ramirez lower his hands with a chuckle. They reached the elevator. They stepped inside, and Bke pressed the button for the basement level. As the doors closed, Ramirez leaned against the wall, studying Bke's stoic expression.

  "So what's this really about?" Ramirez asked, crossing his arms.

  "I need your help."

  Ramirez's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. "Wow. That must have physically hurt to say out loud."

  Bke ignored the jab. "The situation has gotten worse since Petersburg."

  Ramirez’s expression changed slightly at the mention of it. The mission happened over eight months ago, but rumors of mechanical monsters and Russian experiments on humans still circuted within the agency.

  “That destroyed facility? Are they trying to pin that on you again?”

  “That’s the least of my worries.”

  The elevator dinged as they reached the basement level. Bke held up a hand, silently telling Ramirez to wait until they were alone. They walked down the dimly lit corridor until they reached a maintenance room—one of the few rooms left unmonitored. Bke checked it was empty before closing the door behind them. Ramirez leaned against the dusty radiator, focusing intensely at what Bke was about to say.

  "There's an internal conflict brewing in the agency," Bke said. “Soon we'll all have to pick a side.”

  It wasn't a complete surprise - tension had been building in the command for a good few years. Ramirez understood what Bke was saying - the mission in Petersburg was not the cause, but the catalyst for an already existing problem.

  “Who are the pyers?” Ramirez asked.

  "There's Nowicka's faction, which I don't fully trust. Then there's Vance and his people." Bke's expression hardened at the mention of him. Ramirez didn’t have to ask which one Bke was choosing. "I've been working with Nowicka because Vance is worse, but I need more information. Where people's loyalties lie, especially those in key positions. Who's aligning where. What they're saying when leadership isn't around."

  “You want me to spy for you?”

  "Precisely," Bke confirmed. "You interact with everyone. People talk to you without thinking about what they're saying."

  "That's because they think I'm harmless. Just the agency gossip."

  "Which is exactly why you're perfect for this. No one would suspect you're gathering intelligence."

  Ramirez considered it, running a hand through his dyed hair. He knew the risks of getting caught between factions.

  "This could put a target on my back," he said carefully, but his eyes showed he was already thinking about how to do it. "But if things are as serious as you say..."

  "They are."

  Ramirez nodded slowly. "Alright. I'm in. But I have conditions."

  “Go on.”

  "First," Ramirez began, counting on his fingers, "I need protection if this goes sideways. Not just for me, but for my family.”

  Bke nodded once.

  "Second, I want to know what we're really dealing with here. I'm not walking into this blind."

  "You'll know what you need to know," Bke replied, which earned him a hard stare from Ramirez.

  "That's not how this works. If I'm risking my neck, I deserve the full picture."

  Bke seemed to weigh something in his mind before finally conceding. ”Vance wants the agency to be more aggressive, more proactive in neutralizing threats before they materialize. Elimination over intelligence gathering. Nowicka has been blocking most of his pys, but with the current rate he is gaining support, the agency will change into a bloodbath. Anyone who questions his decisions will get a bullet in the head. Every mission will be like Sarajevo.”

  Ramirez's face darkened. If Bke was bringing up Sarajevo, things had to be bad.

  "Damn," he whispered. "So we're at that point."

  Bke nodded grimly. "We need to know who can be trusted.”

  Ramirez frowned, processing the gravity of the situation. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then asked the practical question.

  "How am I supposed to pass you information? We can't exactly be seen having secret meetings in maintenance closets every day."

  Bke reached into his pocket and pulled out what appeared to be an ordinary coin.

  "This," he said, pcing it in Ramirez's palm. "It's a dead drop marker. When you have information, pce it heads up on the top of the vending machine in the west wing hallway."

  Ramirez turned the coin over in his hand, examining it. Nothing special to the naked eye. "And then what?"

  "I'll arrange a meeting at the appropriate location. Nothing traceable."

  Going full paranoid, Ramirez thought. He didn’t bme him, though. In this kind of work, privacy was hard to come by. Bugs were installed almost everywhere.

  "What about James? Is he involved in this? Does he know?"

  "No," Bke said firmly. "And it stays that way."

  Ramirez frowned. "You don't trust him?"

  "The less he knows, the better. He's already a target because of his association with me."

  "You don't think he should know what he's caught in the middle of?" Ramirez asked carefully.

  Bke shook his head. "He's impulsive. If he knows about this, he'll try to help, and that will just make him more visible to Vance. He's already on thin ice after the st mission."

  Ramirez studied Bke's face, noticing the slight tension around his eyes. By Bke's stoic standards, that subtle change was practically an emotional outburst. He'd noticed it over the past year—ever since James joined the team, Bke had gradually become more human.

  "Don't worry," Ramirez said after a moment. "I'll keep an eye on him. Make sure he stays out of trouble," he said, then quieter added, “Though that’s like trying to stop the rain.”

  He pced his hand on the man's shoulder, which Bke didn’t brush off. “Be careful out there, too.”