"Interrogating the dying assassin reveals that Zuan has placed a multi-million dollar bounty on Bisma’s head."
Bisma stood over the fallen operative inside the shattered control room, his boots planted firmly on the dust-covered metal floorboards. The lingering scent of burnt sulfur and hot copper hung heavily in the air, mixing with the cool morning draft blowing through the broken window frame.
"A bounty," Viktor repeated, stepping closer with his assault rifle slung across his chest. He spat a small glob of blood onto the concrete and frowned darkly. "Zuan is opening up the floodgates. If every freelance killer and mercenary outfit in Europe hears about this payout, the streets of Zurich are going to crawl with professionals looking for our blood."
"Let them come," Bisma said, his
