The SUV pulled up to the curb of The Gilded Lily, its engine a low hum. Ethan stepped out, adjusting his cuffs, followed by Sarah, whose face was flushed and eyes bright with a lingering heat.

Falcon 20 moved to follow them, eyeing the valet parking attendant with suspicion, but Ethan raised a hand, making a slight gesture. He didn't need a shadow inside the restaurant; he wanted this night to be personal. Without a word, Falcon 20 nodded and retreated to the vehicle.

As he walked back, Falcon touched his earpiece. "All units, we are at The Gilded Lily. The Principal has entered with a companion. Deploy security protocols."

"Copy that, Falcon 20," several voices crackled in response. "All units on standby. Perimeter established."

POV: JASON & OLD FALCON

While Ethan prepared for a night of luxury, miles away in the dense, unmarked forests, three helicopters hovered like dragonflies over the dark canopy. Jason stared out the window at the terrain below, his brow furrowed.

"Old Falcon... this area looks familiar, doesn't it?" said Jason.

Old Falcon, the veteran pilot, squinted at the topographical map on his screen. "If my memory serves, everything past that ridge belongs to Parthenon. We should turn back, Jason," said Old Falcon.

"Parthenon? What the hell is that?" said Jason.

"An organization you shouldn't even know exists. If we're here, we're about to step into some very deep shit," said Old Falcon.

"Should we inform the boss?" asked Jason.

"When we get back. But if he sent us here, it's because he's looking for trouble with them. Wait... Falcon 3, Falcon 5, halt the helicopters. Stay on standby. Falcon 2, descend. There's something strange in that clearing," said Old Falcon.

The lead helicopter began a slow descent. Suddenly, the ground seemed to split open. Two mechanical slits in the earth slid back, and twin streaks of fire roared into the sky.

"Shit! Shit! Break left!" screamed Jason over the comms.

The helicopter jerked upward, the G-force slamming the crew into their seats. Before the missiles could impact, Falcon 3 and Falcon 5 opened fire with their mounted Gatling guns. Tracers lit up the night, detonating both missiles in mid-air. The explosion rocked the air, a blooming orange flower of fire against the black trees.

"Get out of here! Now!" shouted Jason into the intercom.

The three choppers banked hard, their engines screaming as they fled the zone at top speed.

Twenty minutes later, a convoy of more than twenty armored vehicles swarmed the clearing. A man with shock-white hair and piercing blue eyes stepped out of the lead vehicle. He surveyed the charred remains of the missiles, his expression cold.

"(Sir, we found remnants of the missiles and checked the security system. They were triggered by a helicopter's proximity, according to the logs. But the vision systems failed; we have no visual data and no sign of a crash. Whatever entered our airspace managed to flee without damage,)" said the soldier in Russian.

The white-haired man simply nodded. "(Check every camera in the sector. Something must have caught their approach,)" said the Leader.

A soldier ran off, speaking frantically into his radio. Minutes later, he returned, looking pale. "(Sir, every camera in the area failed at the same time. Whatever approached was prepared to blind us. It wasn't a glitch; we were attacked.)"

"(Did you check the hardware?)" asked the Leader.

"(Affirmative. No signs of tampering. They still emit a signal, but they lost the image twice—presumably when the enemy approached and when they retreated,)" said the soldier.

"(A hacker... Call the Kremlin. Have them inform Ghost. I want to know who attacked us and where they are. I will personally visit the son of a bitch,)" said the Leader.

"(Sir... there have been rumors of a new organization nearby. If they came by helicopter, they could reach us quickly...)" said a subordinate.

"(Royal, right? The Supreme Leader told us not to engage them yet... Inform high command and wait for approval. Meanwhile, prepare two extermination teams. If they came here, it wasn't an accident; it was a scouting party. They probably think this area is empty. Call the Scavengers and patch it through to my intercom immediately,)" said the White-Haired Leader.

...

("Commissioner, to what do I owe the pleasure?") said Mr. Scavenger, picking up the high-priority line.

("Mr. Scavenger, we have a situation on our delivery route... we had an intruder, but we couldn't identify them. They hacked our cameras, entered, and left. The anti-air missile defense systems fired, but they were intercepted. We believe this was no accident. We need your help to find out who it was,") said the white-haired leader.

("Immediately. Give me a moment,") said Mr. Scavenger.

In the background, muffled shouts and frantic orders echoed through the Scavenger's headquarters. After a brief pause, he returned to the line.

("I have already ordered a review of all our cameras. If they entered through our zone, they couldn't have left without being seen,") said Mr. Scavenger.

("Understood. While your men check, we believe it was Royal. We know this zone has always been declared unclaimed, but perhaps you should claim it yourselves to prevent them from trying to expand?") said the white-haired leader.

("Royal... Ethan Blake...") said Mr. Scavenger, his voice dripping with venom as he gritted his teeth.

("Is something wrong?") asked the white-haired man.

Suddenly, a voice shouted in the background of Mr. Scavenger's office. "Everything has been checked! We have no visual! We sent teams to the physical cameras to inspect them—they appear untouched, but we lost the feed during two specific moments. Three seconds on average."

Hearing this, Mr. Scavenger spoke back to the commander with a cold, sharp realization.

("There is no need to look further. We were also attacked, and I must confess, I recently had a disagreement with Mr. Blake. It seems he is tracking us. If they have a hacker of that level, they could have found clues leading to our primary operations... What do you think, Leader? Should we wait, or halt our business?") asked Mr. Scavenger.

("Impossible. This is the Supreme Leader's highest priority. We need the next shipment at all costs. I will send an extermination group to escort it. If they get close, we will destroy them. I will inform the Supreme Leader immediately,") said the white-haired leader.

("Understood,") said Mr. Scavenger.

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