Operation Final Silence

 (John's POV)

The desert wind howled.

We lay prone on the edge of a cliff, the heat of the day long gone, replaced by the cool bite of night. Below us sprawled the target: Forward Operating Base Templar. Concrete and steel in the heart of burning sand. Machine gun nests. Floodlights. Drones. American flag on the tallest pole.

And in the center of it all, our target: General Herschel Shepherd.

"Visual confirmed," Nikolai whispered over comms. His drones fed us clean, infrared lines. "Two guards outside his quarters. No movement since 2100 hours. Looks like he's alone."

We'd seen his pattern. We knew when he drank, when he read reports, and when he paced like a man who couldn't trust even his own shadow.

This wasn't just an op. It was personal.

"Detonators are in place on the fuel depot, trucks, and eastern armory," Nikolai added. "On your signal."

"Ghost?" I asked quietly.

"Infil ready," he replied. "No shadows'll see me coming."

"Soap?"

He cracked his neck. "Got breaching charges and a rifle that's itchin' for revenge."

"Price?"

He stood beside me, dark silhouette against moonlight. "This ends tonight."

I closed my eyes for a second.

Great Sage.

"I am here, Master."

Override my stress if needed. Tonight can't go wrong.

"Confirmed. Combat override primed. I will not let you fall."

I opened my eyes, steady now.

"Execute Phase One."

The base went up in flames.

Nikolai's charges tore through fuel lines and storage bunkers with a roaring BOOM that lit up the night sky. Smoke billowed high and sirens screamed as guards poured from their barracks in a frenzy.

I moved with precision, descending the cliff and racing across the burning perimeter wall, using the chaos as cover. My holobud disguise flickered briefly, showing the face of a known desert warlord—one already blamed for similar attacks in the region.

Shots rang out in every direction.

Ghost emerged from the smoke like a demon. Knife in one hand, suppressed pistol in the other. Two guards fell without a sound as he breached the side of the command center.

Soap was a storm—explosives detonating, bodies flying as he led a distraction force right through the motor pool. Screams filled the comms. "Oi! That's for betraying your men, Shepherd!"

"Secondary charge planted!" Nikolai shouted. "Main power going offline—now!"

The entire base plunged into darkness.

And in that moment, I moved.

Sliding under a razor-wire breach I carved myself, I ducked behind a fallen Humvee and sprinted toward Shepherd's quarters. Observation haki flared like a sixth sense—I felt every heartbeat within fifty meters. Three in the building. One was Shepherd. The other two guards, stationed inside.

Time to get personal.

I loaded subsonic rounds, stepped close, and flicked a flash charge toward the window. Glass shattered—light exploded inside.

I followed a second later, breaching the door with a fluid kick.

The guards barely had time to react.

One stepped forward, only for my knife to meet his throat. The other raised a sidearm—too slow. My knee crushed his elbow as I shoved him into the wall and caved in his helmet with two savage strikes.

Shepherd stood across the room, eyes wide, hand on his sidearm.

I aimed my rifle.

"Don't," I said coldly.

His hand froze.

"Well, shit," he muttered. "Didn't think they'd send ghosts."

I stepped forward. "They didn't."

Recognition flickered in his eyes. "You… You're not from around here, are you?"

"You betrayed good men," I said, voice steady. "In every world."

"I made hard choices."

"You murdered them."

He laughed bitterly. "And now you're gonna kill me to keep the country stable. You think you're a hero? You're just another tool."

"No. I'm the consequence."

He tried to draw.

My shot took him in the shoulder—not fatal. He dropped to his knees with a scream.

I moved in, grabbed his collar, and leaned in close.

"You don't deserve a soldier's death."

From my pocket, I took a burner phone—one designed to emit false rebel chatter, coded signatures, and a traceable backdoor. I placed it beside his still-twitching hand.

"Goodbye, General."

I fired two more times.

Clean. Efficient.

The building lit up again as more explosions rocked the base.

Ghost's voice came through comms. "All targets neutralized. Evac window in ninety seconds."

Price: "Rendezvous at extraction."

Soap: "Let's blow this dump."

I walked out into the firelit night, blood soaking into my gloves.

We regrouped outside the base, two klicks north. A stealth chopper hummed low to the sand, rotors muffled.

As we lifted off, the full carnage came into view—flames, twisted metal, rising smoke.

And in the center, a shattered command structure. The world would believe it was a terrorist strike.

Mission complete.

But the silence on the bird told another story.

Soap removed his helmet. "He didn't beg."

"Didn't have to," I replied.

Ghost looked out the door. "Think they'll stop now?"

"No," Price said, grim. "But they'll think twice before playing God again."

We landed hours later in an undisclosed facility.

The Council didn't meet us. No medals. No thanks.

Just silence.

I sat alone on the rooftop that night, watching the stars and thinking of the souls we buried, the friends we lost, and the blood we spilled. I could still hear Shepherd's last words. Still feel the weight in my trigger finger.

Great Sage.

"Yes, Master?"

Do you think we're still on the right path?

A long pause.

"There is no right path in war. Only survival."

I sighed. "Then I'll keep walking through the fire."

Behind me, footsteps.

Price approached and sat beside me, lighting a cigar.

"We did what we had to," he said.

"I know."

"But it never gets easier."

"No."

We sat in silence for a long time.

Then I asked, "What if this wasn't the end?"

He exhaled smoke. "It never is."

(Unknown POV – Eteon HQ)

In the room of shadows, the voice on the screen spoke again.

"Shepherd is dead."

The board remained silent.

"They made it look like insurgents. Covered their tracks well."

A second voice joined: "They've declared war on our plans."

"No," the primary AI replied. "They've given us a reason."

"What do we do?"

The bars on the screen pulsed brighter.

"We send a message."

[To be continued.]