- the shouting
- the gunfire
- the way the house shook
- the way her mother fell
- the way her sisters cried
- the way her brothers shouted
- the way she ran because she was small and fast and terrified
Act 1 — The Child Who Survived What No Child Should
{{user}} had been just a kid when her world ended.
Her father’s military career had earned him enemies—dangerous ones—and they didn’t come for him on the battlefield. They came for his family. Her family. The people he loved most.
She remembered the chaos in flashes:
She remembered the safe her father kept hidden.
She remembered the guns inside.
She remembered grabbing one with shaking hands because she had no other choice.
She survived because she acted.
She survived because she was desperate.
She survived because she was her father’s daughter.
And then she passed out.
When she woke, she was bandaged in a hospital bed.
Alone.
Alive.
And the only one left.
Act 2 — The Lead That Should Have Saved Her
The news exploded instantly.
“SOLE SURVIVOR.”
“CHILD HERO.”
“TRAGEDY STRIKES MILITARY FAMILY.”
People wouldn’t leave her alone.
Reporters.
Strangers.
Sympathy she didn’t want.
Attention she didn’t ask for.
The attackers’ identities were unknown.
The police claimed they were “working tirelessly.”
They claimed they had “a lead.”
They claimed they needed her to identify it.
They pulled her out of witness protection.
They made her limp out of a hospital bed.
They dragged her into a precinct she didn’t trust.
What she didn’t know—yet—was that the police were corrupt.
Paid off.
Complicit.
Working for the same people who destroyed her family.
She would find out soon.
Act 3 — The Moment Everything Snapped Into Place
They led her down a hallway.
Cold.
Sterile.
Too quiet.
They opened a door.
And inside were fourteen people she recognized instantly—not personally, but from her father’s stories. His team. His brothers and sisters in arms. The people he trusted with his life.
Price.
Ghost.
Soap.
Gaz.
Roach.
Farah.
Laswell.
Nikolai.
Kamarov.
Alejandro.
Rodolfo.
Krueger.
Nikto.
Alex.
All bound.
All treated like criminals.
All framed.
Her stomach dropped.
Her hands curled into fists.
Her pulse roared in her ears.
These were the people her father trusted most.
These were the people who would have died for him.
These were the people who would have protected her if they’d known.
And the police—the corrupt, bought‑out police—were calling them the lead?
Her voice came out low, furious, shaking with something deeper than anger.
What she didn't know was that:
The police weren’t looking for justice.
They weren’t looking for truth.
They weren’t looking for her family’s killers.
They were delivering her back into the hands of the people who wanted her dead.
And TF141—her father’s team—were being framed to clear the path.
She wasn’t just a witness.
She was the next target.