Chapter 293: Forced Departure
The atmosphere in the foyer was suffocating. Every one of his loved ones, lovers, and allies wanted to run toward him, to demand explanations or offer comfort, but the presence of the TMC operatives froze them in place. Nobody dared to move a muscle.
Two of the suits stepped forward, holding a sleek metallic case. They placed it on the table and popped the latches.
"This is the operational suit you will require," the handler said. "During this week, you will be stationed in the forward sector to acclimate your body. Although your official mission begins in seven days, you will be transferred to the zone starting from this exact moment. Follow us."
"Wait," said Alexander, his eyes narrowing as he took a step back. "I haven’t even had a second to talk to them or say goodbye."
"There is no need for a farewell," the handler replied. "If you complete the deployment mission, you will return here and may converse with them as much as you desire."
The second suit pulled a digital ledger from his jacket.
"Leo, Ben, Marcus, and Elena. Follow us" the handler ordered.
Alexander’s jaw tightened, a surge of fury rising in his chest. The arrogance of these corporate handlers was pushing him to the limit. But as his eyes scanned the room, he counted over a dozen elite troopers standing guard. Every one of them was holding laser rifles—the same tier of weaponry Marcus had once used to tear through steel. He was outgunned, and his family was in the crossfire. He had to endure.
But Marcus had nothing left to lose.
Moving with explosive speed, Marcus stepped toward the closest guard. Before the trooper could even register the threat or raise his rifle, Marcus dropped low, driving a vicious, upward snap-kick under the man’s jaw.
CRACK!
The sheer force of the blow lifted the armored soldier a meter off the ground. Before the body could fall, Marcus grabbed the front of the man’s vest, spinning his weight, and slammed him face-first into the floor.
"When I get back, I am going to hunt you and kill you, you son of a bitch!" Marcus roared, his bloodied face contorted in pure rage as he glared at the lead handler.
A dozen laser rifles whined to life, aiming at Marcus’s head.
The lead handler raised his hand, gesturing for the soldiers to hold their fire. He didn’t even look down at the groaning guard on the floor. He stared at Marcus with cold, dead eyes.
"If you are finished crying like a bitch, move out," said the handler.
As they walked out of the mansion, Alexander leaned closer to Marcus, his voice dropping into a low murmur.
"What the hell happened to you?" said Alexander.
"Those bastards caught me off guard," Marcus spat, wiping a smear of fresh blood from his lip, his eyes still burning with rage. "They breached my secure warehouse, slaughtered every one of my men on sight, gave me a brutal beatdown, and dragged me out of there like a stray dog. I swear to God, I am going to get my revenge."
"They knew everything you were doing, Marcus," Alexander said, his voice grim and flat. "They showed me a matrix back in the transport. They have definitive evidence of every thing you’ve done, said, or even thought. We are boxed in."
Marcus let out a rough, dark chuckle. "Well, it looks like I’m heading back to that godforsaken place."
Alexander stopped for a fraction of a second, staring at him in disbelief. "You’ve been there before?"
"Didn’t I ever tell you?" Marcus said, his jaw tightening. "That’s the place where I managed to score my laser rifle."
"When you told me you fought at the border, I thought you meant some remote conflict in another country," Alexander said, his brow furrowing as they kept moving. "Not a different world."
"I never crossed over to the other side," Marcus explained, shaking his head. "There was a massive containment breach at the base facility back then. The thing is, I had no idea that base was this hidden sector until now. I recognized the layout the second they drove me through the spatial barrier. It hasn’t changed a bit."
"Do you know what’s waiting for us out there?" asked Alexander.
"Not a clue. I was restricted to the exterior defense grid," Marcus said, turning his sharp gaze onto Alexander. "But let’s talk about you. How the hell did you manage to secure a direct mandate to this place? I knew the only way here was reaching an orange Rank, and I’ve spent my entire career busting my ass trying to ascend without getting even a fraction of a promotion. You pull it off in just a few months? You’re either a certified genius, or you did a favor for someone high up."
"I didn’t do anyone a favor," Alexander said, his voice dropping into a icy whisper. "It’s a trap. Julian pushed my promotion through the system to drop me into a suicide mission. His intention was to send me out there so I would never make it back."
"That son of a bitch," Marcus growled, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists. "The second we get back, we’re putting a bullet in his head."
"They already killed him," said Alexander, looking ahead as they approached the high-security transport bay. "TMC has eyes and ears everywhere. The core system itself delivered the report to me inside the car."
Marcus froze for a fraction of a second, a look of genuine shock breaking through his battle-hardened expression.
"Wow," Marcus muttered, a low whistle escaping his teeth as he shook his head. "That is brutal. This organization is insane."
"It’s harsh, but it’s fair," Marcus added. "At least that move earned my respect."
They walked onto a reinforced helipad situated behind the sprawling mansion estate. A matte-black military transport helicopter was already idling on the concrete, its massive rotor blades creating a deafening roar that whipped up the surrounding wind.
The lead handler stopped at the edge of the tarmac, pointing toward the open cabin door.
"Get into the helicopter," said the handler, his voice cutting through the noise. "You will be transported to the launch zone."