Chapter 691
- The mechanical whine of Syndicate drones finally drifted away from the wreckage, allowing a heavy, suffocating silence to reclaim the clearing where the red flare had burned.
- Five men emerged from the tree line, tactical boots crunching over scorched pine needles.
- Leading them was a man who stood out; he wore no helmet, and a shock of messy, wind-blown white hair topped a face that was a roadmap of violence.