Twenty
Irina had wanted them to move. Anya understood that now.
The snowstorm thickened around them as they moved through the trees, the wind tearing loose powder from the ground and carrying it sideways through the forest like a curtain of white needles.
Visibility dropped to less than thirty meters in some directions, the terrain dissolving into shifting shadows and fragmented outlines.
For most operators, that weather was a disadvantage. For hunters, it was camouflage.
Justin moved to the front of the formation, his pace steady and controlled as he cut through the narrow animal trails threading through the pines. Ice kept the rear angle, while Frosty moved along the left flank, scanning the ridge line with practiced patience.
No one spoke unless necessary.
Anya lingered just behind Justin’s right shoulder, her eyes following his angles with quiet intensity. She was close enough to feel the gentle, rhythmic sway of his movement through the snow.
He moved with a calm confidence that set him apart from most team leaders she had known. There was no noticeable tension in his demeanor, no aggressive push to accelerate progress. Instead, he allowed the terrain to guide the rhythm, adapting seamlessly to each challenge.
It was irritating, mostly because it worked.
“You’re thinking too loudly again,” Justin murmured without looking back.
Anya’s jaw tightened slightly. “I’m evaluating.”
“Same thing.”
“I disagree.”
Devon’s voice slipped into their comms. “Thermal update.”
Justin didn’t slow. “Go.”
“The three signatures I flagged earlier are still moving east of your position,” Devon said. “Spacing suggests coordinated advance.”
“Hunters,” Ice said quietly from the rear.
“Yes,” Devon replied.
Anya scanned the surrounding woods again. Three. Irina. Orlov. And someone else.
Sokolov had rebuilt the program with specialists. That meant they wouldn’t approach directly. They would steer.
Justin seemed to be thinking the same thing. “They’re pushing us toward something.”
“Yes,” Anya replied.
Frosty spoke from the left flank. “Terrain drops ahead.”
Justin slowed slightly.
Anya moved to his side as the trees parted, revealing a gentle ridge that overlooked a winding valley below. The storm thinned just enough to reveal the shape of the ground.
A forgotten service road snaked through the valley floor, its path half-buried beneath a blanket of snow and fallen branches.
Along its length, rusted fencing hinted at long-gone military supply depots that once stood decades earlier.
It was the kind of place that stopped appearing on maps once funding disappeared.
“Devon,” Justin said quietly, “check that road.”
Keys clicked in her ear. Then— “Oh.” That was never a good sound from Devon.
“What?” Justin asked.
“Old Yugoslav military supply route,” Devon said. “Inactive since the late nineties.”
“Until now,” Ice muttered.
“Hang on.” More key clicks. “Recent satellite passes show intermittent vehicle heat signatures.”
Justin exhaled slowly. “There it is.”
Anya examined the valley once more. The winding road snaked through the dense trees, disappearing into a narrow rock cut further east—an ideal natural choke point. Perfect for transport, perfect for an ambush, and perfect for hiding in plain sight.
“They’re feeding Dawn Wing through that corridor,” she said.
Justin nodded. “Looks like it.”
Frosty crouched slightly near the ridge’s edge. “I’ve got something else.”
Anya stepped closer. “What?”
She pointed.
Fresh tracks cut through the shallow valley below, half-buried beneath windblown snow but still clear enough to read. Several recent tires mark the scene, hinting at recent activity.
Ice crouched beside them, studying the pattern. “Convoy.”
Justin scanned the tree line again. “How recent?”
Ice brushed snow from the edge of one track. “Within the last hour.”
Justin’s eyes narrowed. “Which means…?”
“They’re still close,” Anya finished.
A faint smile tugged at Ice’s mouth. “Now we’re talking.”
Justin considered the valley for a long moment.
The storm unexpectedly played into their hands, but it also gave the hunters an advantage. If Irina had deliberately guided them here, the hunters were already adapting to the changing circumstances.
Devon confirmed it seconds later. “Heat signatures moving again.”
Justin’s voice stayed calm. “Direction?”
“Converging.”
Anya felt the cold settle deeper into her bones. “They’re tightening the ring.”
Ice stood. “About time.”
Justin ignored the comment and turned toward Anya. “Options.”
She glanced down at the road once more, then shifted her gaze toward the rugged rock cut. Her eyes flicked back to the dense trees behind them. Three hunters. Three paths converging.
Sokolov wasn’t trying to eliminate them. He was shaping their movement. “Break the pattern,” she said finally.
Justin nodded. “How?”
“By attacking the corridor.”
Ice grinned. “That’s my favorite answer.”
Justin crouched beside the ridge. “If we hit the convoy,” he said quietly, “we force the hunters to respond.”
“And we confirm the supply route,” Devon added.
Anya met Justin’s gaze. “You wanted leverage.”
His expression didn’t change. “We just found it.”
Ice checked his rifle. “So what’s the plan?”
Justin stood. “Charlie Team intercept.”
Frosty nodded immediately.
Anya examined the terrain once more. Something about the setup still unsettled her—the road, the storm, the hunters leading them. Everything felt too neat, too calculated.
Justin must have seen her hesitation. “What?”
She exhaled slowly. “They want us here.”
“Probably.”
“And you’re still going?”
“Yes.”
Ice laughed softly. “That’s why I like this job.”
Justin turned toward the slope leading down into the valley. “We move fast. Hit the convoy before the hunters close the distance.” He glanced at Anya. “You with me?”
Her answer came instantly. “Yes.” Not because she trusted the setup. Because she trusted the fight.
Justin nodded once. “Then let’s ruin someone’s supply chain.”
Charlie Team moved down the slope in controlled silence, snow swallowing the sound of their boots as they disappeared into the storm.
Behind them, the wind erased the ridge.
Ahead of them, the road curved deeper into the valley.
****
Snow swallowed the sound of their descent.
Justin guided the team along the ridge in a cautious zigzag, each step deliberate as their boots crunched through the snow. The wind howled and swirled around them. Below, the valley road appeared as a faint, gray scar cutting through the forest, barely visible beneath the swirling sheets of snow.
Convoy tracks cut straight through the center, fresh and heavy. The storm hadn’t yet worn down the edges, leaving a raw, vivid imprint of recent movement.
Which meant the vehicles weren’t far.
Justin crouched behind a fallen pine trunk at the base of the slope, raising a gloved hand.
Charlie Team froze.
Ice slid into position behind him as Frosty ghosted left toward a stand of rocks overlooking the road.
Anya stopped beside Justin, her rifle already coming up. She didn’t ask where to go. She already knew.
Justin pointed to a narrow rise thirty meters to their right. “Overwatch.”
She nodded once and moved without another word—then paused. Just long enough to look back.
Justin was already watching her. Not checking position. Not issuing correction. Just tracking her.
For a fraction of a second, the storm seemed to thin between them. Snow cut sideways through the trees, wind tearing at branches, but the line of sight held.
“You good?” he asked quietly over comms.
It wasn’t about the ridge. It wasn’t about the shot.
Anya adjusted her grip on the rifle, the familiar weight settling into her hands. “Always.” A beat passed. Then, softer—almost lost under the wind, “Stay in my line.”
It wasn’t a command. It wasn’t even strategy. It was placement.
Justin’s jaw tightened once, something steadier than tension anchoring in his chest. “Wouldn’t be anywhere else.” That was all.
She turned and disappeared into the trees.
Ice watched her disappear. “Always impressive.”
Justin ignored that and checked the road again.
The wind shifted. And through the storm…Engines. Low. Distant. Growing.
Devon’s voice slid into the comm. “Thermal confirms three vehicles approaching your position.”
Justin’s focus sharpened. “Speed?”
“Slow. Controlled.”
“Escort pattern?”
“Yes.”
Of course. Supply convoys didn’t move unprotected this close to a facility.
Justin glanced toward Ice. “Plan stays the same.”
Ice’s grin flashed white against the snow. “Convoy disruption. I love simple.” He and Frosty moved quietly through the snow to the transport route.
Justin didn’t watch his agents. He trusted them to do what was necessary. He watched for the convoy.
Moments later, Frosty’s voice came quietly through the comm. “Position set.”
Justin checked the road one last time.
The roar of engines intensified as headlights pierced through the storm just seconds later. The first vehicle emerged—an armored transport, military surplus. A second vehicle followed closely behind, and then a third appeared.
Justin exhaled once. “Now.”
Frosty triggered the first charge.
The explosion cracked through the storm like thunder. Snow and earth erupted beneath the lead vehicle as the road collapsed inward, dropping the front axle into the crater Justin had predicted.
The convoy came to a jarring halt. Before the drivers could react, Ice opened fire.
Controlled bursts shattered the windshield of the second vehicle, forcing the passengers inside to duck for cover.
Justin moved quickly down the road, weapon ready.
Charlie Team flowed behind him.
The doors of the convoy vehicles swung open with a rush as armed personnel poured out into the snow, rifles already aimed and scanning for targets. Professional and disciplined, yet caught off guard.
That was all Charlie Team needed.
Justin dropped the first man with a double tap to the chest.
Ice tackled another behind the rear vehicle and disarmed him with brutal efficiency.
Frosty swept the far side of the road, driving two more operatives into the tree line with suppressing fire.
Then the sniper shot came. A clean crack through the storm.
One of the convoy guards collapsed instantly.
Justin didn’t look up. He didn’t need to. Anya had the ridge.
“Left flank clear,” she said calmly through the comm.
“Copy.” Justin reached the second vehicle and yanked the door open.
Inside: Crates. Medical equipment. Biometric scanners. And something else. Restraint harnesses. Not cargo restraints. Human restraints.
Justin’s jaw tightened. “Anya,” he said quietly.
“Yeah?”
“You’re not going to like this.”
“What?”
“Transport rig.”
Silence. Then… “I figured.”
Gunfire cracked from the tree line.
Justin pivoted instantly.
Three figures cutting through the woods toward the convoy. Fast. Too fast for convoy security.
Ice saw them too. “Hunters.”
Orlov burst from the trees first. Rifle already firing.
Frosty dove behind the wrecked lead vehicle as rounds shredded the snow around her.
Justin returned fire immediately, forcing Orlov to slide behind a tree.
A second figure moved along the ridge opposite Anya.
Irina. Of course. She didn’t shoot—not yet. She stood on the ridge, a statue of ice and calculation, letting the chaos below unfold while she decided where to press the knife. Her presence was a promise: this wasn’t her kill—this was her arena, and everyone else was already inside it.
Justin hated that.
“Third hunter?” Ice asked.
Devon answered immediately. “Negative visual.”
Which meant the third was somewhere worse.
Justin crouched behind the second vehicle. “We grab the intel and move,” he said.
Ice checked the convoy guard he’d knocked unconscious. “Already working on it.”
Orlov fired again from the tree line. Precise. Measured. Testing their reactions.
Anya answered with another sniper shot that splintered the trunk inches from his shoulder.
Justin glanced toward the ridge.
She had him pinned. Good.
But Irina still hadn’t fired. And that bothered him more than the bullets.
“Justin.” Devon’s voice again.
“What?”
“Satellite just updated.”
“Meaning?”
“There’s another convoy moving toward your position.”
Justin swore softly. “How far?”
“Ten minutes.”
Ice laughed under his breath. “Well, that escalated quickly.”
Justin’s decision came instantly. “We’re not staying for it.” He grabbed a tablet from inside the convoy vehicle and ripped the storage drive free. “Intel secured.”
Frosty and Charlie Six tossed canisters in each vehicle, then she popped smoke across the road. White clouds swallowed the battlefield in seconds.
“Charlie Team,” Justin said. “Break contact.”
Ice hauled the unconscious convoy driver toward the trees. “Souvenir.”
Orlov fired blindly through the smoke.
Irina still didn’t. She was a shadow with a trigger, patient as a surgeon, letting every shot and scream below sharpen her edge. The moment she moved, it would matter. Until then, the world danced to her timing.
Justin moved into the tree line with the team, snow already swallowing their tracks.
Behind them, the convoy burned slowly beneath the falling storm.
And somewhere across the valley, Irina watched them disappear into the storm. She wasn’t disappointed—they’d survived, but every survivor left a scar she could follow. Her smile was small and private: the hunt wasn’t over. The game was just getting interesting.
****
Irina’s voice came quietly over her comm—cool, amused, almost admiring. “They adapt quickly.” Every word was a chess piece nudged into place, a reminder that she was still playing several moves ahead.
A pause. Then Sokolov answered, “I expected they would.”
Orlov’s breathing came hard through the line. “We almost had them.”
Sokolov’s tone never changed. “Almost is not failure.”
Irina’s eyes followed the track where Charlie Team vanished. “The Morozov woman is exactly as you predicted.” Her voice carried respect—and rivalry. Obedience was never her game.
“Yes.”
“And Franks?”
Another pause. “More interesting than anticipated.”
Irina smiled—a flash of anticipation, not satisfaction. The hunt was alive, and she was already savoring the next round. Hunger sharpened every sense. She would not miss again.
“Good.”
Across the valley, the fire from the convoy flickered against the storm. A signal flare that no one in Charlie Team had probably intended. And one that would draw far more attention than they realized.
The hunt had changed again. Now both sides knew the rules—and just how dangerous the other could be. In the storm’s aftermath, new predators circled, and the game was far from over. For Irina, that was the best part: escalation meant the real hunt could finally begin.