My Marine Brother Threw My Visitor Badge Into the Gravel and Mocked Me in Front of His Entire Unit / Chapter 31 / 53

Chapter 31 - The Blood Debt

They climbed the five flights of narrow metal stairs toward the ship's command bridge, stepping over the discarded gear of retreating sentries. Marcus knew they were coming; he had pulled his remaining men back to form a defensive perimeter around the central bridge.

Dylan kicked open the heavy door to the officer’s mess hall. A lone contractor tried to raise a shotgun, but Dylan swept his leg with a brutal combat kick, slamming the man’s head against the steel table before disarming him in one fluid motion.

"Upstairs, last hatch," Mia signaled, checking her sidearm’s round count. "Four hostiles left according to the thermal scans."

Dylan led the way, stacking up against the heavy armored blast doors of the main bridge. Through the reinforced viewport, they could see the ocean outside—black swells cresting under the midnight sky—and General Marcus Vance standing in the center of the bridge, dressed in full dress-blue military trousers and a black tactical fleece, holding an M4 carbine with calm, detached arrogance. Flanking him were three heavily armed elite bodyguards.

On the console in front of Marcus, a backup satellite uplink terminal was already powered on, flashing yellow.

"He kept a secondary uplink on the bridge," Dylan muttered. "He doesn't need the server farm—he just needs sixty seconds to transmit the encrypted decryption keys to his offshore buyers."

"On my mark," Mia whispered, placing a breaching charge on the door hinges. "Three... two... one... execute!"

The door blew inward with a violent shockwave.

Dylan and Mia burst through the smoke simultaneously, their weapons firing in tight, coordinated arcs. The two bodyguards on the flank collapsed instantly under Dylan’s rapid double-taps. The third bodyguard fired back, clipping Mia across the shoulder before Mia put a round through his tactical visor.

Marcus Vance didn't flinch. As his final guard fell, he raised his rifle and fired directly at Dylan.

Dylan dove behind the radar navigation console as 5.56 rounds punched through the screens, sending showers of glass and sparks over his helmet. He rolled out the other side, his carbine empty. Without missing a beat, Dylan drew his combat knife and charged forward, slamming his shoulder directly into the General’s chest.