The headquarters on Bouvet Island was a bastion of control, a fortress of steel and ice anchored to the most isolated spot on the planet. Yet, in the main operations room—a space designed for cold logic—silence had replaced efficiency. The Veils were back, physically unscathed, yet internally reeling from the impossible sight they had witnessed in Rome. On the immense main display, the surveillance footage from the docklands played on an endless loop: a single figure planting his feet and bearing the six-ton, failing extraction helicopter.
The air in the sterile room was thick with suppressed shock.
"The structural deformation in the concrete platform alone required an estimated fifty-thousand newtons of force absorption," Kyros murmured, his fingers flying across the holographic analysis panel. He looked less like a hacker and more like a forensic surgeon dissecting a ghost. "The fact his skeletal structure remained intact is… biologically impossible without pre-existing modification. We're talking about bone density and cartilage elasticity that violate known physics."
Kyros isolated the thermal signature analysis. The results were immediate and alarming, spiking off the charts. "Look at the metabolic activity graph," he said, his voice flat with professional dread. "The thermal signature is beyond anything known in human physiology. His body is generating near-combustion levels of energy just to hold the weight. He wasn't relying on simple adrenaline or brute strength; his physiology fundamentally shifted into an emergency power state. It's not simply strength; it's a metabolic overhaul."
"He is no longer flesh and blood as we know it," Asher concluded grimly, running a hand over his close-cropped hair. He watched the display of the man who had effortlessly neutralized their tactical threats in Berlin and saved their lives in Rome. "Someone didn't just train him; they engineered him. They treated him like a piece of experimental technology."
Amanda remained fixed on the scene, but her gaze was distant, trapped in the past. Her eyes drifted to a secondary, mandatory personnel photo displayed beside the analytical feed—a stark, high-contrast image taken seven years ago, just before the catastrophic Syria mission where we went missing and was classified as KIA.
The man holding up the helicopter was a myth, a weapon, a monster of immense, unnatural power. The man in the photo, however, was undeniably young.
"He was twenty-one," Amanda said, her voice dry and brittle, cutting through the scientific jargon like a knife. The revelation silenced the room. "We sent a twenty-one-year-old kid to lead a suicide mission. He wasn't some hardened career operative when we lost him in Syria. He was a prodigy, barely old enough to drink in some places, who earned the callsign The Predator within eighteen months of joining the Division."
She remembered one evening, six years ago, sharing a beer (his first legal one) on a rainy rooftop in Tokyo, debating philosophy, not tactics. That Alex was gone.
She tapped the screen, drawing attention to the subtle, youthful spark in the jawline of the image—a spark that had been burned away by science. "The true horror isn't his strength; it's the fact that someone so young, so gifted, had been manipulated, pushed, or forced into a project that violently redefined the limits of human biology and stripped him of his humanity."
"The transformation clearly exploited his youth and peak physical condition," Samuel Blake observed, stepping into the room. He spoke with the quiet authority of a man bearing institutional guilt. "They didn't start with a broken man; they started with raw, generational talent—the purest genetic canvas—and turned him into a weapon. We believe the core of this transformation is a cocktail of highly aggressive nanobots and an unstable synthetic compound."
The team dove into the few fragmented files they could access. They quickly identified the secret project code-named "The Bear Protocol," which had been initiated immediately after Radekov's supposed death. The process of retrieving information was grueling; the files were buried beneath layers of military-grade encryption, evidence of a massive, systematic cover-up that reached the highest echelons of global power.
What they found was terrifying. The files hinted at sophisticated biological warfare research: chemical alteration, nanobot infusion designed to repair and reinforce tissue instantly, and an experimental synthetic compound designed to accelerate muscular regeneration and density to impossible speeds. The technology was cutting-edge, unstable, and terrifyingly effective—a prototype for the perfect, expendable soldier. The notes hinted at catastrophic mental side-effects and extreme instability, which only amplified the danger Alex posed.
The only confirmed link to the project's funding was a complex shell corporation tied to a shadowy global criminal network, one far older and more entrenched than the Cartel they were currently chasing. This meant the Cartel was likely only a proxy for a much bigger, much more powerful enemy.
NEW THREAT IN ISTANBUL: THE GLOBAL SUMMIT
The research was immediately aborted by a blaring alert that shattered the room's tense silence. The main screen flashed red, and a priority alert from the Vice President instantly replaced the Radekov analysis.
"Veils, drop everything and report to the debrief immediately," Samuel Blake barked, his focus instantly shifting from the past's tragedy to the present threat. "The Cartel is moving again, but this isn't a kidnapping. They are consolidating. And they are making a power play that threatens every government on this planet."
The team moved to the briefing table as Samuel initiated the secure video link.
"Dario Moretti's extraction was a success, but it was just a skirmish," Samuel explained, his face stern and unforgiving. "The Cartel suffered huge losses in Rome, but their supreme leadership remains intact. They are making a colossal power play—a move that will give them global legitimacy and unlimited resources, effectively making them a shadow government."
The screen displayed a three-dimensional topographic map of the city of Istanbul, Turkey, focusing on a heavily fortified, centuries-old mansion situated high on the coast of the Bosphorus.
"The Cartel is attempting to forcibly unify the major global crime syndicates—the Yakuza, the Italian Mafia's remaining factions, and several powerful Russian and Asian networks—under their banner. They are hosting a secret summit in this Istanbul mansion right now," Samuel revealed. He zoomed in on the coastal location. "The building itself is a fortress, naturally defended by a steep cliff face and only two access roads, both heavily monitored. Insertion will require a flawless, high-altitude drop or a sub-surface approach."
The urgency in Samuel's voice was absolute. "If they succeed in this unification, they become a legitimate global superpower overnight. Their combined financial and political power will be insurmountable. Our mission is critical: we must disrupt the summit, capture the entire leadership, and shut down the Cartel permanently before that unification is ratified."
Amanda ran a diagnostic check on her equipment. "Insertion strategy?"
"High-altitude, low-opening parachute drop onto the cliff-side overlooking the mansion. Kyros will secure the main network hub, Asher will lead the elimination team, and Amanda, you will be in charge of securing the leadership—alive, if possible. Kai will run counter-surveillance and provide long-range fire support."
"And what about Radekov?" Amanda asked, her hand resting near the image of the young man she once knew. It was the only question that truly mattered.
Samuel's eyes were cold and uncompromising. "Radekov is the anomaly, but the Cartel is the existential threat. We put the Predator Protocol on hold. Istanbul first. If Alex Radekov shows up, he is to be treated as an unknown, extremely dangerous element who is operating outside of every known rule of engagement. He has saved you, but he cannot be trusted. You are authorized to use any force necessary to neutralize the threat—even if that threat is a ghost from your past."
The Veils armed themselves, the terrifying image of a powerful, haunted young man—the ghost of Alex Radekov—hanging silently in the back of their minds as they prepared for their most dangerous mission yet.