Chapter 4 – The Six Organizations
The eight‑hour gunship with rotors rattled across the sky plain like a wounded beast. Dust hung low over the sand, turning the sunrise into a hazy orange smear that clung to the armored gunship. When the last vehicle finally eased into the fortified base of Division‑12, the steel doors sighed open and a cold wind gusted out, spilling the scent of diesel and desert scrub onto the tarmac.
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Randy was the first to step out of his vehicle, his boots thudding against the concrete as he glanced at the other members of the team. Ghost, his face still half‑masked, followed a beat later; Kayla’s eyes flicked over the surveillance screens mounted on the walls of the base; Kevin adjusted the strap of his tactical pack; the rest of the squad—Mira, Jace, and two new recruits—filed in behind them, shoulders heavy with the weight of an operation that had already gone wrong.
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Inside the Command Center, the air was stale with the hum of servers and the faint, metallic smell of coffee that never seemed to be strong enough. Rows of illuminated maps covered the walls, each line a vein of conflict that pulsed beneath the surface of the Republic of Empius. The team settled onto the worn leather chairs around the central table, eyes fixed on the empty doorway where the commander would appear.
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The door swung open with a low hiss, and Commander Thorne entered, his gait crisp, his uniform immaculate. He paused, letting his gaze sweep across the faces before him—faces that had just survived a night of gunfire, a chase through a derelict warehouse, and the bitter taste of failure. 19Please respect copyright.PENANApezwmwgU6p
Randy,” Thorne said, his voice cutting through the silence, “step forward.”
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Randy rose, his jaw set, ready to shoulder the blame. He opened his mouth, but the commander raised a hand, stopping him before a single word could leave his lips.
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“Before you say anything,” Thorne began, his tone flat but not unkind, “let me make one thing clear. This mission was a failure. We didn’t capture Ghost. But I still need to know what happened to the target.”
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Ghost, who had been standing a little apart, stepped into the dim light. His eyes were hollow, his voice steady despite the tremor that ran just beneath it.
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I went inside the room and found the target—dead, covered in blood. I searched the whole place. No useful intel. Whoever was with him was gone, and whatever they were doing, they didn’t want anyone talking about it.”
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The commander nodded, his brow furrowing. He turned his attention to Kayla, who was still hunched over a portable terminal.
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“Kayla, you were supposed to hack the building’s cameras. Did you see anyone else?”
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Kayla’s fingers tightened around the edge of the console. She met the commander’s stare. No, sir. The only person I saw on the feeds was Ghost.”
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The room fell silent again, the weight of the dead target pressing in on everyone’s chests.
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“Kevin,” Thorne said, gesturing toward the tech specialist, “any thoughts?”
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Kevin pushed his glasses up his nose, his mind already racing through the data streams he’d been monitoring.
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Do you think the person who killed the target was already in the building before we landed? Think about it—someone had to infiltrate, get the job done, and disappear without a trace. Whoever they are, they weren’t planning on taking any risks. They either had a personal vendetta or were hired to eliminate him."
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Randy’s brow knitted. “What are you getting at, Kevin?”
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Kevin leaned forward, eyes narrowed.
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“Think about litter—no, about a clean‑cut, professional hit. Someone who knows how to move inside a fortified structure, neutralize a high‑value asset, and vanish like a phantom. They weren’t just another street thug.”
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The commander’s expression hardened.
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“Everyone, we need to find out who did this, but we have a bigger problem now.”
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Randy’s voice rose, urgent. “What’s going on, Commander?”
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Thorne pushed a worn file across the table. Its cover was stamped with a faded emblem: Six Organizations.
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“For the past five months we’ve been tracking a weapons‑deal network that’s been feeding arms to anyone with the right price. Our intel points to six distinct groups. We only have concrete evidence on three of them, but those three are enough to bring the Republic to its knees if we don’t act.”
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He opened the file, revealing a series of photographs, intercepted communications, and a map dotted with red pins.
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1. Battalion Trooper
“First up is Battalion Trooper. On paper they look like a street‑gang recruiter, but their tactics are unmistakably military. Over the past year they’ve evolved from petty thugs to a quasi‑paramilitary force. They’re ex‑service men, trained in urban combat, using disciplined formations, coordinated assaults, and even improvised IEDs against police precincts. Their goal? To carve out autonomous zones across the Republic of Empius, where they can operate without interference. The government has already deployed the National Guard to contain them, but the Troopers keep pushing deeper, killing officers, politicians, anyone who stands in their way.”
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Randy tapped the photo of a masked figure leading a small squad through a burning alley. “Do we have any intel on who’s leading them?”
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Thorne shook his head. “Not yet. Their command structure is a ghost. All we know is they’re former military—some say they were part of a disbanded special‑operations unit that went rogue after the last war.”
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2. Nemesis
“Second is Nemesis. They’re the information vampires of the underground. They harvest data—military plans, political dossiers, personal blackmail material—and weaponize it. They kidnap high‑ranking officials, extract secrets, then use those secrets to blackmail politicians into passing legislation that benefits their shadow economy. Over the past year they’ve been responsible for the disappearance of several journalists who got too close to exposing them. When a journalist tries to publish a story on Nemesis, they end up dead or missing within weeks.”
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Kayla leaned in, her fingers drumming the table. “That’s why we cut off trade with Festeara, right? Nemesis has a foothold there.”
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“Exactly,” Kade replied. “They’re a nightmare because they have no physical front—only data. Take them down, and you’re fighting a phantom made of code and leverage.”
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3. Serpent
“The third is Serpent. This is the one that makes my blood run cold. They’re a human‑trafficking syndicate that moves people across borders for profit. Their network stretches across five countries, and they’re backed by corrupt politicians who turn a blind eye for a cut of the profits. We’ve received a report from private investigator Leo González—who’s been tracking Serpent for years—that a faction called the Partitas is acting as a logistical arm for them. Victims range from teenage girls in Nefreinia to laborers forced into mines in the southern provinces. The police have been clueless for months, but we have a lead now.”
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Kevin frowned. “If politicians are paying them, that’s a whole other level of cover.”
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Thorne nodded. “And that’s only three. The other three are still hidden, but once we crack these three, the rest will crumble like a house of cards.”
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Randy swallowed, the enormity of the task settling onto his shoulders. “So we go after Battalion Trooper, Nemesis, and Serpent first, and then the rest?”
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The commander’s eyes flicked to each member of the squad, gauging their resolve.
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“Exactly. We’ll divide the team. Kayla, you and Ghost will infiltrate Nemesis’s data hub in Festeara. Kevin, you’re on the ground in Nefreinia, coordinating with Leo González to bust Serpent’s trafficking rings. I need a strike team—Randy, Mira, Jace—to hit Battalion Trooper’s stronghold in the outskirts of Empius City. We move at dawn. Rest up; this will be a long year.”
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The room fell into a heavy silence, each soldier processing the weight of their new orders. The glow of the map illuminated the contours of a country under siege from shadows that wore the faces of soldiers, politicians, and businessmen alike.
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Randy stood, his voice low but steady. “We didn’t bring the target back, but we’ll bring these monsters down. We’ll make sure no one else has to stare at a dead body in a blood‑splattered room.”
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Commander Thorne gave a thin smile, a flicker of pride in his eyes. “That’s the spirit. Dismissed.”
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As the squad filtered out of the command room, the lights on the holo‑map pulsed once more, a silent promise that the fight against the Six Organizations was only just beginning. The desert night outside the base seemed to deepen, but inside, the fire of resolve burned brighter than any star.
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The mission had failed, but the war was only now awakening.
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