The fight was over. The blueprints were sealed. Bodies cleaned up. Fire fading into silence.
Maverick stepped a few feet away from the others, reached into his coat, and pulled out a small orb etched with Dragunov runes—communication artifact. He tapped it once, and it shimmered before Sergei's voice cut through, unusually chipper.
"Maverick. Tell me something good."
Maverick gave a tired half-grin. "We got it."
"Excellent."
"Well… we had a bit of a—"
"I don't care," Sergei cut in without a beat. "As long as you have the blueprint, everything else is noise."
Maverick blinked. "You're not gonna ask what happened?"
"No. Take it to one of our Checkpoints. There's a safehouse there. Rest up. You'll receive your next assignment soon."
Then the call dropped.
Maverick stared at the orb for a second and tucked it back into his coat like it owed him money.