"He thinks he knows the enemy. He doesn't."
The silent, unsettling message from the forgotten sub-monitor in the black site echoed in Henry’s mind, a cold premonition as the Vanguard strike team gathered in the predawn chill. Their faces, hardened by years of covert operations, were masked by the dim light of the transport helicopter's internal lamps. Outside, the vast, unforgiving expanse of the Siberian wilderness stretched, an endless canvas of snow and ancient pines, far from the familiar cityscape of London.
Selena Vance sat opposite Henry, her own tactical gear a stark contrast to her usual elegant attire. Her grey eyes, sharp with a dangerous resolve, scanned the faces of the operatives, each one a loyalist Henry had personally vetted over the past weeks. Victor, as ever, was a st
