Episode3: The Struggle

In the darkness, the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps echoed. Four figures emerged from the shadows, dressed in black tactical gear with simple masks.

Reznov gave a slight nod, introducing them.

"That one is Ivan. Sniper. He's just as deadly in close quarters. Doesn't talk much."

Ivan, a tall and lean man with graying hair and emotionless eyes, simply nodded. It seemed that a mere nod was his way of greeting.

"Next to him, Natasha. Demolition and infiltration specialist. If something is locked, she can open it for us."

Natasha, a woman of medium height with sharp facial features, gave Mike a half-smile.

"Nice to meet you."

Reznov continued, his voice steady.

"The last two—Dmitry and Andrei. Dmitry is the calmest man I know. Andrei? You'd better keep your distance."

Andrei, a broad-shouldered man, was casually spinning a blood-stained knife in his fingers. His grin was anything but friendly.

"I only get close to my enemies."

Mike shot a glance at Reznov, skepticism in his eyes.

"You all are... quite the welcoming bunch, aren't you?"

Reznov simply shrugged.

"What matters is that we get the job done."

Mike pressed the radio button to inform his support team that the infiltration had begun—but then, he remembered. Jake was no longer on the other end.

A sharp pang hit his chest, but he swallowed it down. With a sigh, he lowered the radio and shoved it into his pocket.

Turning to his team, he ordered,

"Move out. Keep your formation tight. Stay alert—this place can turn into our tomb in a second."

A heavy silence settled over the group. Only the sounds of boots on concrete and the occasional faint static of their radios broke the stillness.

In the next corridor, the team suddenly stopped.

Ahead, two automated heavy machine guns stood mounted, their thermal sensors scanning the hallway.

Mike cursed under his breath and turned back.

"Alright, now what?"

Without a word, Natasha stepped forward. She pulled out a small toolkit, knelt in front of the control panel, and started working with precise, practiced movements.

Reznov smirked, arms crossed.

"Just watch."

Within two minutes, Natasha stood up and dusted off her gloves.

"Done. We have a ten-second window to pass through. But the western side is locked—we all need to go east."

Mike and his team, visibly impressed, quickly lined up and moved along the walls. The quiet rustling of gear and the soft thud of boots echoed around them. Natasha was the last one to step past the turret's line of fire.

So far, everything had been executed in complete silence.

The enemy still had no idea they were inside.

As they moved, Carlina leaned closer to Mike and whispered,

"These guys... they're different."

Mike muttered back,

"Yeah… too damn good."

But deep inside, something was gnawing at him.

Why were they this skilled? Why were they so desperate to destroy this facility? And most importantly—why did they seem better trained than his own team?

Mike exhaled sharply and muttered under his breath,

"Something about this doesn't add up..."

His eyes narrowed.

Then, he turned to Carlina.

"Take half the squad and head for the airport. Secure the extraction point."

Carlina hesitated for a brief moment but then nodded.

"Be careful, Mike."

Mike gave her a small nod.

"You too."

And with that, Carlina and half the team broke off, disappearing down a side corridor toward the airport.

Mike and the remaining fighters pressed forward, deeper into the heart of the facility.

The mission objective was clear—demolish the core pillars.

As they advanced, the air grew heavier. The deeper they moved into the underground complex, the stronger the feeling of entrapment became.

Mike was walking at the front, leading the group, his eyes darting between the dimly lit walls and the mission tracker in his hand.

His instincts were screaming at him.

Something was wrong.

Why was Reznov so sure of every step?

Why did he always act as if he already knew what was coming?

Mike's patience snapped.

He quickened his pace, catching up to Reznov.

"Alright. Enough with the secrecy. What the hell is going on?"

Reznov kept walking, his voice low.

"You wouldn't understand. Explaining it would only complicate things. But right now, our goals are aligned. That's all that matters."

Mike clenched his jaw.

"That's bullshit. Why won't you answer me? Why do you keep acting like you have all the damn answers? What the hell are you hiding?!"

For the first time, Reznov stopped.

Slowly, he turned, his cold gray eyes locking onto Mike's.

There was something in that gaze—something deep, something unsettling.

Something that made Mike pause.

"I don't owe you any answers," Reznov said, his voice calm, but firm. "None of you have the right to ask questions. If you want to stay alive, follow orders."

Mike's fists clenched.

His patience was gone.

With a swift motion, he pulled out his knife.

"Fine. Don't talk. But after all this, I don't trust you. And I'm done following your damn orders."

Reznov smirked slightly.

"You're smart, huh?"

Ivan, the silent sniper, finally spoke, his voice as emotionless as ever.

"Focus on the mission. If you want to fight, do it when we're out of here."

Natasha, standing between them, spoke up, her tone firmer than before.

"Now is not the time for this. We need to finish the job."

But Mike had already made up his mind.

His grip on the knife tightened.

Then, in a blur of motion, he lunged at Reznov.

Reznov didn't even move.

At the last second, he shifted his weight slightly, grabbed Mike's wrist, and twisted it.

Mike gasped as pain shot up his arm. The knife clattered to the ground.

Before he could react, Reznov shoved him backward.

Mike stumbled but quickly regained his footing, rage flaring in his chest.

He charged again.

But this time, Andrei—quick as ever—stepped in.

The burly man grabbed Mike's shoulder, holding him back with ease.

"Cool it, Mike," Andrei muttered. "Let's focus on the mission first."

Mike shoved his arm away, glaring daggers at Reznov.

His voice was lower now, but laced with venom.

"This isn't over. When this mission is done, you're dead."

Reznov chuckled.

"Oh? Are you sure? We could settle this right now if you want."

He took a step forward.

But before Mike could respond, Natasha threw herself between them, her voice sharp.

"Reznov, enough. Now."

Then she turned to Mike, eyes burning.

"Same goes for you. I don't care what you two do after this, but right now? We have a damn mission."

A tense silence filled the air.

Then—

The sound of approaching enemy footsteps echoed down the hallway.

Dmitry swore under his breath.

"Great. Now we're in for a bloodbath."

Mike took a deep breath, picked up his knife, and exhaled sharply.

"Alright. Looks like we're fighting our way through."

His fingers curled around the handle.

But deep down, he knew.

More than anything—

He wanted to kill Rezonov right here, right now.

And the battle had just begun.