The tunnels were humid, the air redolent with rust and rot. James took the lead, his thoughts spinning at the consequences of what he had just seen. Colonel Bryce Carter was not dead and he was working with the Syndicate.
Dutch walked next to him, her face void of expression. “We’re not going to run anymore,” she whispered. “So what’s the move?”
James didn’t hesitate. “We strike first.”
Lina pulled the strap of her rifle. “We lack the manpower to engage them directly.”
Malik exhaled sharply. “She’s right. Even with our skills, it’s a suicide mission.”
James stopped and faced them. “Then we don’t strike like soldiers we strike like phantoms.
The room fell silent. Then Sarah smiled. “You mean we take them apart from the inside.”
James nodded. “Exactly.”
The Syndicate had numbers. Pow
