Chapter 47 - Ghosts of the Trench
Before Dylan could plant the next breaching charge on the Sector Seven vault door, the heavy intercom speaker above the door clicked with static.
A voice cut through the iron silence—smooth, mocking, and laced with venomous arrogance.
"You really don't know when to die, do you, little brother?"
Dylan stopped. He held up a fist, signaling his Raiders to halt their advance and cover the intersecting corridors. He looked directly up at the reinforced security camera mounted beside the blast door.
"Marcus," Dylan said, his voice flat and devoid of fear.
A cold, patronizing laugh echoed through the metal chamber. "Look at you, Dylan. Still playing the dutiful little tin soldier. Still wearing Dad’s old mindset like a medal. Do you honestly think General Hayes cares about you? Do you think the Marine Corps gives a damn about a sergeant who wouldn't even make officer rank without my shadow hanging over him?"
"You traded your oath for a wire transfer, Marcus," Dylan replied evenly, stepping closer to the camera. "You left men to die in the Persian Gulf. You turned weapons on your own country. You threw our name in the dirt."
"I transcended the dirt, Dylan!" Marcus snapped, his voice suddenly sharp with manic fury. "Dad died broke, broken-bodied, and forgotten by the government he bled for! He gave thirty years to the Corps and what did they leave him with? A pension that couldn't cover his medicine and a box of tarnished medals! I saw the truth that you were too stupid to see: power isn't granted by stripes on your sleeve. Power is taken by whoever holds the detonator!"
On Dylan’s wrist terminal, Mia’s voice broke through the private channel. "Dylan, I’ve tapped into the vault's internal camera feed. He’s standing on the crane gantry above the payload cradle. There are twelve thermonuclear warheads loaded onto three autonomous torpedoes. The launch sequence is at seventy percent!"
"Marcus," Dylan spoke into the intercom, keeping his brother's attention locked on him while Ramirez silently prepped the magnetic breach charges around the door frame. "You mocked me at Pendleton. You threw my visitor pass in the gravel and told your squad I was nothing. But you forgot one thing Dad told us before he died."
A beat of hesitation lingered on the other end of the line. "What are you talking about?" Marcus sneered.
"A real Marine never leaves a fight until the mission is finished," Dylan said. "Ramirez—blow it."
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The magnetic charges detonated with an ear-shattering concussive roar. The three-ton vault door buckled inward, shearing off its hinges, collapsing into the chamber amid a shower of sparks and blinding smoke.
Dylan charged through the flames, weapon up, straight into the dragon's lair.
