Chapter 6:Chased by Shadows

Kael wiped the sweat from his brow and adjusted the magnifier lens strapped to his eye. The intricate clockwork mechanism beneath his fingers demanded absolute precision, and in the dimly lit confines of his workshop, he had no room for mistakes. The tiny gears clicked together with satisfying precision, a distraction from the storm brewing beyond the reinforced steel doors.

Then came the first warning—a faint, rhythmic tapping against the metal. Not the hesitant knock of a customer or an old friend, but the deliberate, calculated signal of professionals testing the structure's resilience. Kael froze, his pulse spiking. Echelon had found him.

He slid his chair back slowly, reaching beneath the workbench for the M&P Shield tucked between stacks of old schematics and scattered tools. The pistol felt cold and familiar in his grip. He thumbed the safety off just as the first explosion rocked the building.

A shaped charge detonated at the back door, sending a tremor through the workshop. The high-pitched whine of breaching charges filled the air as sparks cascaded from the security panel. They were coming in hot—no time for negotiations.

Kael darted to the fuse box and killed the power. The workshop plunged into darkness, save for the sporadic flicker of emergency lights. The attackers' night vision gear would give them an edge, but Kael knew every inch of this place. He'd designed it to be his sanctuary, and now, it would be his battlefield.

The first silhouette slipped through the smoke-filled breach, rifle raised, sweeping the room in smooth, practiced arcs. Kael exhaled, aimed, and squeezed the trigger. The suppressed shot punched a neat hole through the intruder's visor, dropping him instantly. A second figure lunged forward, but Kael was already moving.

He vaulted over a worktable, kicking a tray of wrenches into the path of the next attacker. The distraction gave him just enough time to spin around and fire twice. The rounds found their mark, and the man crumpled, his weapon clattering to the ground.

More shadows poured in, their boots crunching against broken glass and metal shavings. Kael ducked behind a lathe, reloading with practiced ease. The next volley of gunfire chewed through the metal casing, sending shards of steel flying past his face. He couldn't stay pinned down.

Grabbing a flashbang from his emergency stash, he pulled the pin and rolled it across the floor. The detonation was deafening, even with his ears ringing from the initial breach. He surged forward, using the confusion to his advantage. A precise shot to the knee sent one mercenary sprawling, followed by a double tap to the chest. Another swung his rifle toward Kael, but Kael was faster—he grabbed the barrel, twisted, and redirected the burst of gunfire into the attacker's teammate before slamming the stock into the man's throat.

Panting, Kael barely had a moment to recover before the next wave pressed in. Echelon wasn't taking chances; they were throwing bodies at him, and soon, numbers would win out. He needed an escape.

The ventilation shaft above his workstation offered a slim chance. Firing one last controlled burst to keep the remaining operatives at bay, he leapt onto the worktable, grabbed the grating, and hauled himself inside. The metal groaned under his weight as he crawled through, hearing the chaos below.

A voice crackled over a radio. "He's in the vents. Block off the exits. We flush him out."

No, you won't, Kael thought grimly. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a remote detonator, and pressed the switch. Below him, a secondary charge—one he had rigged months ago in case of emergencies—erupted, engulfing the workshop in flames.

As the fire spread, Kael pushed forward, knowing this was only the beginning. Echelon wouldn't stop. But neither would he.