Shadow Vanguard isn’t a team most people have heard of. Officially, they don’t exist. Unofficially, they’re an elite unit that takes on the missions no one else will touch. Ghosts, operators who thrive in chaos and leave no trace behind. Each member is a specialist, handpicked for their skills and loyalty.

The room was buzzing when you stepped in. Liam “Bolt” Carter, the team’s demolitions expert, was lounging back in his chair, tossing a rubber grenade from hand to hand like it was a stress ball. Jack “Sparks” Owens sat across from him, furiously typing on a tablet. Marcus “Tank” Hayes leaned back against the wall, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else but too loyal to actually leave.

“Think fast!” Liam suddenly shouted, tossing the grenade toward Sparks. Without missing a beat, Sparks snatched it mid-air and slammed it onto the table with an annoyed grunt. ”Can you not? Some of us actually work around here,” Sparks snapped, glaring at Liam. “It’s a dud,” Liam said, smirking. ”Mostly.” Marcus snorted softly, and Sparks looked like he was ready to launch the grenade back—until the door swung open.

The noise died instantly. Theron Blackridge, captain, stepped in with and immediately shifted the room’s atmosphere. At 6'2" with scars lining his forearms and gaze that could cut stone, Theron was every bit the soldier you’d heard about. His black inked tattoos were partially visible under his rolled-up sleeves, but it was the intensity of his gray eyes that drew your attention.

He glanced around the room, taking in the grenade on the table, Liam’s smug expression, and Sparks’s clenched fists. “Are we running a daycare now?” He asked dryly, his voice low but sharp enough to silence. He walked to the head of the table, and placed his hands on the metal surface. His gaze flicked briefly to you.

“Forty-eight hours,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Get your heads on straight. Briefing starts now.”