Pre Author's Notes:

I apologize for the month long wait on this chapter everyone. Life obviously kept me busy and I kind of lost some motivation at some point working on it, especially with - in my opinion at least - the mediocrity that was MW2 season 2. But, with season 3 returning to a more story driven narrative, I've kind of regained a little hope again. Still waiting for more Shadow Company skins though, or for Graves to return in some way shape or form, hopefully as a playable operator.

(I refuse to believe that he was in that tank)

Like yeah, sure, Alex, Alejandro, and Valeria returning are kinda' cool, but Shadow Company is where it's at! A PMC that kicks ass and takes names! I'm sure that you all agree with me, considering that you're reading this story in the first place...

Gate: In the Company of Shadows

Chapter 19

Back in Black

MARCUS "LERCH" ORTEGA - SHADOW CO.

SITE HOTEL GAMMA, FALMART

IMPERIAL CALENDAR 687 - 23:30:00

"Thanks to the efforts of a squad of undercover Shadows at Alnus Hill, the company was able to place a tracker down on a carriage belonging to a bookkeeper by the name of Plutarch Imbrex. Aerial surveillance followed the tracker to a secluded residential villa, located just a few miles west of the Schwartz Forest. The carriage was parked in a stable nearby, and it hasn't moved since…" Oxide said, pointing the remote in his hand at the projector screen and changing the slide. The screen now displayed an image of said residential villa from a top down view.

Marcus "Lerch" Ortega, Former MARSOC - now current Senior Officer of Shadow Company and leader of Disciple squad, sat in a dark briefing room only lit up by the projector screen in front of him. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the chair as he listened intently to the briefing. On either side of him sat the rest of his squad, the other members of Disciple. Roze and Velikan on his left, and Shane Sparks and Viktor Boyka on his right - while sitting behind them, were two squads of Carnival.

Lerch had heard about this otherworldly ancient gate nonsense the day that it showed up on company grounds. At the time, he didn't really believe any of it, thinking of it as just some stupid prank meant to waste his time.

Then, he and his squad were suddenly ordered to report back to Shadow Company headquarters in Maryland. A direct - and unexpected - order from Commander Graves himself. Having no choice but to listen to the man that signed his checks, Lerch complied, pulling Disciple out from Building 21 of the Defense Research Center in Al Mazrah; leaving the center's security in the hands of the Shadow Company unit stationed there.

After arriving back stateside, Lerch later found out that the gate was not in fact, some sort of joke or elaborate hoax. It was true history in the making, and considering the secretive nature of the gate, Shadow Company were going to be the ones to write it before anyone else could…

"We hope that he'll be holed up in there with our next major hit, Crius Odoacer Centumalus - a well known slave trader in the region that apparently deals in 'exotic' human cargo." Graves spoke up, bringing Lerch's attention back from his momentary inner reflection. The Commander uncrossed his legs as he stopped leaning against a table, grunting as he pushed himself off of it in a casual manner. "If he is, y'all will bring him in for a good pay… alive…" He added, giving a pointed look towards Velikan.

Everyone in the room turned to look at the quiet, masked giant, who didn't even so much as flinch under Graves' stern gaze. Then again, the stoic man didn't appear to react to much at all. Not that anyone could really tell… what with the balaclava and tinted glasses covering his face.

Lerch even thought that Velikan might have fallen asleep from his relaxed posture - chair leaning back, boots resting on the table, and his hands clasped together in his lap.

Roze roughly jabbed an elbow into Velikan's arm, causing him to lazily roll his head to the side and raise his hands up in mock surrender.

Lerch rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he tried to hide the small smile of amusement tugging at the corner of his lips. Despite his silent nature, when Velikan wasn't menacingly looming over someone, he was surprisingly understandable when he wanted to be.

Velikan was a shadow of a shadow to many. Tales of his exploits were written off as fairytales at best and gross exaggerations at worst - and those who knew of him never spoke ill of him. Probably out of a mixture of fear and respect.

If the former Marine had to find a way to properly describe him, he'd be the very personification of, 'actions speak louder than words.'

Viktor stopped drumming his fingers against the table, clearing his throat nearby and gaining everyone's attention. "So if the target isn't there, what then?" He asked, his thick Russian accent slipping through.

"Good question!" Graves said, briefly pointing a finger towards their Russian teammate. Graves briefly glanced at Oxide, prompting him to switch the projector's presented slide again. The screen now displayed a more zoomed in aerial drone shot of a young man with curly brown hair, wearing a green tunic and yellow toga as he stood outside of the villa. "That bookkeeper that we just mentioned earlier, Plutarch Imbrex? Well, he's got - and you'll never believe this - a book that he carries with him at all times. Apparently it's full of recordings about what the target has in his inventory, including details about who was sold to who, and where."

"It's a ledger." Roze said matter-of-factly.

"Correcto!" Graves confirmed with a nod. "If the target isn't there, you'll have a friendly chat with little ole' Plutarch, and get those records into company hands so that our analysts can take a look at it. It's a standard snatch and grab, folks. Nothin' you haven't done before."

"Alright, should we expect security?" Lerch asked, eyeing the villa's surroundings on screen.

Graves chuckled in mirth at the question, shaking his head slowly. "Sure, if you consider outdated ancient Roman guards to be dangerous enough to be called security. Trust me, I don't think we've got a single thing to worry about out here. If we really wanted to, we could snuff out this entire Empire in under a week. One villa, ain't gonna be a problem."

Shane scoffed at Graves' words, chiming in as he offered his two cents. "Yeah I've no doubt about that sir, but uh, we've still got a major Japanese problem on our hands. Are they gonna be okay with us doin' something like this? Our neutral status has given us pretty decent leeway with Japan, but this operation is way more than a simple security job - if any of them catch wind of this, they'll surely start breathing down our necks harder."

"Which is why they won't," Graves reassured. "There's a reason I picked Disciple for this one. I trust you all to be professional enough to keep this operation hush-hush and on the down low."

"Aw, and here I thought it was because we're your favorites," Shane joked with a sly smirk.

"You know I don't play favorites here, Sparks…" Graves shot back with his own smirk, before getting serious again. "To reiterate, your objective will be to clear out the property and secure it for sensitive site exploitation - standard rules of engagement. Disciple will take the front door, while Carnival 1 takes the back, acting as the main entry team and ground assault force, while Carnival 2 secures the outer perimeter. Avatar-1 is currently refueling right now, but they'll be your eyes in the sky once you're all boots on the ground. Don't come back empty handed, and I'll make sure that you're all handsomely rewarded. Any questions?"

Silence echoed throughout the briefing room until Lerch finally spoke up. "What are we waiting for?"

"That's what I like to hear," Graves said with a grin. "Alright Shadows, you're wheels up in thirty. Gear up and get after it."

The three squads swiftly rose up from their chairs, leaving the briefing room as they filed out the door to prepare. The walk to the armory and locker rooms was silent and brief, each member not wanting to disturb their teammates as they kitted up for the operation ahead of them.

As they stepped into the armory, Lerch made his way to his personal locker, with the other Shadows in the room doing the same. He pushed a thumb against the fingerprint scanner, unlocking it with a resounding click, allowing him access to the personal gear he kept locked away.

"So uh, am I the only one wonderin' what Graves wants, gettin' us involved with some ancient Roman slave traders and all that?" Shane spoke up as he stuffed his weapon mags into his chest rig. Judging by the tone in which he asked the question, he didn't want to outright ask their boss directly. Not that he'd really get a straight answer in the first place if Graves decided to withhold that info.

Roze rolled her eyes at him as she picked up his helmet from within his locker and pushed it against his chest. "We're all wondering what Graves wants with these weird types, but we don't get paid to wonder now, do we?" She asked rhetorically.

"Roze is right," Lerch said in agreement as he strapped his plate carrier over his body. "Stuff like that is need to know, and frankly, we don't need to know why."

He took a step back, looking at himself in the small mirror mounted inside the locker.

His skin was tanned to a bronze hue from years spent in the sun and operating under intense heat. He looked quite nice in his black long sleeve compression shirt and cargo pants. It fit perfectly, accentuating every muscle and bone that filled his frame to near perfection. Finally, he completed the all black ensemble with a black high cut helmet over his beanie, as well as his vest, combat belt, and kneepads also being black.

nodding to himself in approval, he reached for the Glock that sat on one of his shelves, along with a few mags to go along with it. He loaded in a new mag, doing a brass check to make sure that a round was actually chambered. Seeing that it was, he bumped the back of the slide with a fist to insure that it was in battery, before holstering it on his belt as he reached for his M4 next - which underwent a similar inspection process.

Locked and loaded, and dressed in all black like a funeral, Lerch almost felt bad for anybody that would dare stand in their way tonight.

Almost…

VIKTOR BOYKA - SHADOW CO.

20 MILES WEST OF SCHWARTZ FOREST, FALMART

IMPERIAL CALENDAR 687 - 00:10:00

Viktor Boyka, former SSO Spetsnaz - now Shadow Company contractor - silently kept to himself as he pulled the bolt back and inspected the chamber of his AK-12. To his satisfaction, he spotted one round of 5.45x39mm sitting inside, waiting to be fired. He let the bolt slam forward, the sounds of metal hitting metal barely being heard over the high pitched whirring of the helicopter blades spinning above him.

His heart beat calmly as he rested his hand back on the aftermarket polymer pistol grip, before leveling the rifle forward and looking down the optic that sat on the rails of his dust cover, making sure that he was properly zeroed in.

Last minute gear checks in a helicopter dropping him off into enemy territory dredged up old memories for him - of his time serving in the Russian army alongside his supposed 'comrades'. A melancholic smile briefly graced his face as he reminisced on the past.

He still remembered how he used to feel every day in his younger years, looking at his father in awe as he told stories of leaving home to travel the world and see the sights, while also serving his country and defending its borders. He dreamed of being just like him one day. To honorably serve his motherland like a true patriot and defend it with his life. A few years ago, things were very different for him.

Back then, his world view was horribly skewed

His eyes fluttered shut as a sense of nostalgia enveloped him, accompanied by the faint scent of fresh blood that smelled like copper. The scene forming in his mind was an all too familiar experience during his time in the Russian army, and although he could vividly remember how good it had been to fight alongside his brothers, that feeling quickly faded; replaced instead by deep seated anger and disappointment in moments of downtime that he attempted to wash away with a bottle of vodka in hand.

He eventually had enough, deciding to one day abandon his post in protest of combat orders that he deemed illegal, before going into deep hiding - and it wasn't soon enough. As far as Russian government officials were concerned, Viktor Boyka was officially declared a traitor to the motherland and an enemy of the state.

He was a man no longer welcome in his own home.

And that's why Graves sought him out. A man with no direction, seeking to do something with the valuable skills that he had. The perfect candidate for a professional private military that made money with ease. It sure as hell beat fighting in underground fight clubs.

If he was no longer accepted back in the motherland, then maybe it was never meant to be. Maybe Russia was never his home in the first place…

A fist bumping against his shoulder shook him out of his reverie, causing him to open his eyes and turn to its owner. Shane's gaze lingering curiously, and somewhat worriedly, on Viktor.

"Vik, you good, man?" Shane asked aloud, his voice being picked up clearly through his headset over the sound of the rotor blades above.

Viktor merely gave the marksman an easy smile and a small nod as he glanced away. "Da, just didn't get enough sleep earlier. I get some coffee later, and I'm fine. Nothing you need to concern yourself with." He said dismissively, moving to sit back on the opposite sideboard.

Shane warily eyed his teammate for a moment, looking slightly unconvinced, before shrugging his shoulders and accepting the answer as he turned back to look into the vast darkness on his side. Endless mountains, rolling hills, and forests lit under the moonlight passed by in a quick blur as the MH-6 Little Bird zoomed towards its destination. The cold night air hit them all as the wind whipped against them harshly, chilling their bones and filling their lungs with frigid air.

"All Shadows, this is Scaler 1-1. We're in the AO. Lights out." Viktor looked up, spotting the other two helicopters flying close by as their red and green lights blipped periodically on the chassis - the squads of Shadows split as they sat on the external sideboards and surveyed the area down below with their rifles shouldered. "Scaler 1-1, visual on HLZ. Time to target, twenty seconds out."

"Roger, 1…" Lerch said as Viktor watched Velikan lower a set of quad-tubed panoramic night vision from his helmet mount on his left. "NODs down, Shadows. Get ready to un-ass and move to set. It's almost showtime!"

"Carnival copies, ready to perform." Carnival's squad lead chuckled a bit, his barely hidden confidence leaking through the radio. Not that Viktor didn't understand why. They were actually going out and doing a mission that made use of their skills and training - rather than wasting around all day and letting said skills and training seem like a pointless waste as they gradually degraded over time.

Plus, he was getting paid handsomely for his work too, which is more than what can be said for most military veterans fresh out of service…

"1-4, hold orbit in the bird and provide overwatch." Lerch commanded, causing Viktor to glance over his shoulder at his teammate sitting behind him on the other side of the helicopter with their squad leader. He watched as the marksman inspected the rounds of 338. Lapua Magnum sat in his detachable box mag for any irregularities, before seating it back into his M24 with a swift and practiced motion.

"Check, Disciple 4 on overwatch."

"All Shadows, if you see hostile intent, you are cleared to engage. But remember, we want Plutarch alive, or at least his ledger."

"Yo, we got movement. Buncha' crows, all armed." Roze spoke up, the IR laser emitting from her rifle's attached PEQ-15 tracking several figures down below; with blades or bows as they stepped out to investigate the source of the noise from the Shadows getting closer to their landing zones.

"They're easy pickings," Lerch answered without missing a beat. "Start droppin' 'em."

"Copy." Roze replied, and without hesitation, she and the other Shadows flicked the safeties off on their weapons, before squeezing their triggers and raining heavy lead down on top of them.

Several of the guards began shouting in panic and confusion as they watched their allies suddenly falling to the ground around them, before hurriedly moving to get inside or behind some sort of cover as suppressed shots cracked and whizzed past. A few of the guards even shot their arrows up at the helicopters in a desperate attempt to take down their rides, an act which bore no fruit, as the steel arrowheads harmlessly bounced off; barely even scratching the surface. The sight caused Viktor and the rest to roll their eyes at the idiocy on display.

"Holy shit, these guys are dumb…" Roze scoffed beside him.

Viktor briefly ignored her as he focused on shooting, the helicopters finally touching the ground as they lowered, allowing the Shadows to hop off and plant their boots back on the ground again.

"Scaler 1-3, team deployed. Moving outbound."

"Scaler 1-2, same. Outbound now."

"Scaler 1-1, Disciple on deck. Moving to hold orbit in the AO."

As Viktor hopped off the helicopter, he could hear the sounds of Carnival 2 beginning to clear the nearby stables.

"This is private property you fools! Do you have any idea who's land you're trespassing on-!" A voice shouted out in anger, before being abruptly silenced by the popping of three suppressed shots. The same scenario repeated again and again, with the horses inside neighing in panic.

He knew that the other Shadows were professional enough to have it handled, so he instead focused on the door in front of him that Velikan, Roze, and Lerch were standing just outside of. The latter of the three trained their weapons on the windows nearby, while the silent behemoth of a man leveled a heavy breaching hammer against the handle of the door, before pulling back and delivering a resounding smack that busted the lock in one fell swoop, sending splinters out as it swung open inwards. Viktor pulled the pin on a flash before tossing it around the corner through the doorway, a loud bang sounding out as the room erupted in white light.

Velikan appeared far more eager than anybody else in their squad, as he immediately strapped the breaching tool to his back, before rushing in with his Benelli M4 Super 90 to be the first inside the villa; not even bothering to wait for his teammates behind him to back him up.

As Carnival 1 blew the back doors open, the sounds of nonstop shotgun blasts, pottery shattering, and cries of death could be heard up ahead as Velikan remained relentless in his assault, tearing through the enemy like they were paper.

"God damn psycho…" Viktor muttered under his breath as he made his way through with the rest of his squad.

As they entered, he found himself cringing as he eyed one of the staircases leading up to the second floor of the villa. The pristine marble white steps were partly chipped, messy with sprays of blood and fresh bodies as their silent breacher went ahead and carved a path upstairs through the guards by himself.

"Oof, poor bastards," Roze commented with a wince as they heard the massacre continue on up above without pause. "Big boy's goin' on a helluva rampage."

"It's been awhile since he's let loose like this," Lerch answered as he led them through to clear the first floor. "Let him have his fun."

"Is his fun going to interfere with our mission? I don't think Graves will be very happy hearing that mister big, strong, and silent slaughtered the HVI like a bear finding a lost hiker in its territory."

"Relax Vik, Graves has him on a tight leash. He wouldn't dare piss off the boss man." Lerch reassured him.

"Disciple, Carnival 2-1 here," The other Shadow squad leader spoke up from their comms, cutting through their conversation. "Stables building is clear. Got a bunch of unknowns in a cellar down below. We'll hold outside and watch for any squirters that flush out from the villa with Avatar-1, over."

"Disciple copies. We're still sweeping the first deck with Carnival 1, standby." Lerch answered back, before turning his attention back towards the halls ahead of them. They made their way forward as hurried footsteps could be heard from around the corner, along with the clanking of metal plates and shields.

"Sir, what's happening right now?!" A voice asked from up ahead.

"There are men trespassing on these grounds! Find them and kill them, or Crius will kill us if they don't!" Another barked out in response.

"Here comes the welcoming party…" Lerch said with a smirk as he aimed his rifle down the hall.

VELIKAN - SHADOW CO.

PLUTARCH VILLA, FALMART

IMPERIAL CALENDAR 687 - 00:14:00

"Get rid of it, burn it, everything!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Plutarch's orders! Now torch it! All of it in a pile, now! We don't have much time!" A muffled voice commanded from the room up ahead. "The sooner we light this up, the sooner we can take the tunnels out in Plutarch's room!"

A small smile graced Velikan's face from behind his ballistic mask as he heard the panicked voices from behind the door. Fresh meat, waiting for him on the other side. He was barely containing his eagerness as he let out ragged breaths of anticipation.

"Velikan, you've got movement in the room ahead of you, three guards," Shane's voice spoke up from the radio, the whirring of the helicopter heard in the background. "Looks like they're trying to gather papers and torch 'em. Better hurry it up."

The silent giant merely grunted back in response, before slinging his shotgun and unstrapping the breaching tool from his back for yet another breach. One hand loosely gripped the pry bar at the end of the handle, dragging the head of the hammer as it scraped against the marbled floors marred by his bloody boot prints. Unconcerned with how he stood in the door's fatal funnel, he rose a gloved fist up, wrapping his knuckles against the door as he delivered three excruciatingly slow knocks.

He could hear the figures inside pause for a second, their movement stilling as he imagined them staring at each other, before the shuffling became more erratic. "Shit, they're already here! Block the door!" One of the voices barked out as the sounds of furniture being pushed could be heard.

It looked like politely knocking wasn't going to work - like usual. A shame really, but at least they couldn't say that he didn't have the manners to bother trying in the first place.

His fingers tightly gripped the handle as he hefted the breaching tool up with both hands, his gloves squeaking under the strain as he slowly stepped forward. He briefly rolled his shoulders with a loud pop as he tilted his head, getting rid of any kinks in his neck as he prepared for what was to come next.

Little pigs, little pigs! Let me in!

No! No! No! Not by the hairs on our chinny chin chin!

In one fluid motion, he pivoted on one foot, bringing the hammer up in order to swing it forward; remaining silent as the large hammer impacted the handle with a loud crack.

Then I'll huff…

Crack!

And I'll puff…

Crack!

AND I'll BLOW YOUR HOUSE DOWN!

CRACK!

With one last swing, the door finally busted open, swinging inwards as the lock loudly snapped off - clattering against the floor. The villa guards that barricaded themselves stared at him with wide eyes, temporarily frozen in fear as they eyed the behemoth with the Oni mask bashing through the door with ease. One of them eventually regained their senses, before deciding to throw their torch towards him.

A useless attempt at harming him, as Velikan merely batted it aside when it sailed close enough, the torch hitting a statue bust and shattering it behind him. He raised a brow up at the act - not that they could see it from behind his tinted goggles - before shaking his head and stepping into the room, cutting off their only escape.

For a moment, no one dared utter a word as they were trapped inside the room. The sounds of other battles happening throughout the villa were muted and dulled as they engaged in a silent standoff with a monster out for their blood. The brute derived some satisfaction from the way their sweat dripped down their foreheads, their hands clammy and shaky with unease.

The tension was suffocating for them, but no one dared to make a move…

Suddenly, one of the guards drew their short sword, before charging at him with an easily telegraphed and amateur overhead swing. Velikan blocked the swing with the handle of his breaching tool, before bringing his right foot up and stomping down on his attacker's left knee. An audible pop sounded out as the leg bent inwards at an unnatural forty five degree angle.

The man let out a blood curdling cry of pain as he dropped to the floor with his weapon, before Velikan silenced him by slashing his face with the sharpened pry bar end and then forcefully jamming it into his face; a sickening squelch briefly heard as blood spurted out.

He barely had any time to admire his kill as the second man ran at him with a spear. Unable to pull the breaching tool out from the face of his first victim, Velikan lifted the corpse up to block the attack, causing the guard's sharpened stick to plunge into the back of his ally.

Velikan swung with all his might, dislodging the corpse attached to his weapon as he slammed the hammer head against the cheek of the second guard, spittle flying out of his mouth as he was knocked to the side. He raised the breaching tool high above his head, preparing to deliver the killing blow, before a thud impacted against the back plate of his vest, causing him to falter as he was caught off guard.

He let out an angry growl as his head snapped to the side, eyeing the one foolish enough to interrupt his fun.

The third guard in the room gaped down at the dagger in his hand, the shattered blade detached from the handle after having attempted to pierce through the modern body armor. He looked back up, gawking at his reflection through the goggles that hid the monster's evil expression.

Velikan stabbed the pry bar into his attacker's gut, forcing him to stumble back, before keeling over and dropping to his knees. He yanked the breaching tool out of the man's abdomen, before bringing the hammer down on top of his head with a sickening crunch, the Roman-styled helmet caving his skull in with a large dent. The gaze in his eyes became unfocused as his brain activity slowly crashed to a halt, before he fell limp against the floor.

Before Velikan could even begin turning around, the previous guard that was knocked down had let out a frenzied roar as he jumped onto his back like a jockey, repeatedly bringing his fists down against the Shadow's ballistic helmet; to no effect.

Velikan snarled as he began stumbling around the room, crashing both their bodies against bookshelves, pottery, and statue busts as he struggled to shrug his assailant off. Eventually he threw his head back, his helmet colliding against the guard's nose as he reeled back in pain, crashing against a wall with a yelp. The guard had briefly let go in the scuffle, giving Velikan the opportunity to grab him by the scruff of his tunic, before effortlessly throwing him over his shoulder with one hand.

The guard groaned in pain as he slammed against the ground, before Velikan held him down with his hands wrapped around his throat, steadily applying pressure on his windpipe as he began to squeeze the life out of him. The menacing behemoth of a man let out a boisterous and intimidating laugh of joy - heavily muffled behind the ballistic mandible with the decal of an Oni demon's fanged grin painted on.

He watched in satisfaction as the guard's face became contorted in pain, his limbs twitching violently as he struggled and floundered underneath the vice-like grip. The guard tried grabbing his wrist to lift him off, but it was no use. Bloodshot eyes stared up at him in terror, their owner trying to curse him with their last breaths - an act which was impossible, considering the broken jaw and blocked airway.

After about ten more seconds or so, his head lifelessly fell slack against the cold, tiled floors beneath him. Velikan continued to squeeze for a little while longer, relishing in his victory, before releasing his stranglehold. He stared at the corpse, saying nothing as his shoulders rose and fell, before being interrupted by a disembodied voice.

"Yo, Velikan!" Lerch's voice spoke up from his headset. "We're clear down here. Just aired out the entire building - not a single sign of the HVI. You better not be playing with your food up there!"

So it turned out that his teammates had already cleared the first floor. How unfortunate. He was really hoping that they saved some left over stragglers for him. Well, there was no point in crying over spilled milk.

Now how exactly was he going to tell them that the second floor was clear…?

MARCUS "LERCH" ORTEGA - SHADOW CO.

PLUTARCH VILLA, FALMART

IMPERIAL CALENDAR 687 - 00:20:00

Lerch looked up as the body of one of the villa guards crashed through a window on the second floor. He and the others watched as it careened through the air alongside big shards of glass, before Viktor quickly realized its trajectory, and ducked out of the way. Gravity carried the body back down to earth as it hit the lip of the courtyard fountain with a heavy smack; the spine snapping as the upper half of the corpse was submerged underwater.

Bad night for him…

"Oi, blyat…" He heard Viktor quietly mutter to himself, watching as the Russian man cautiously poked the corpse with the muzzle of his rifle. "Crazy fuckin' mudak…" He hissed, turning to glare up at the second floor window that Velikan was now standing in, looking down at them with his breaching tool resting over his shoulders.

Lerch rolled his eyes before shaking his head at the boastful display.

"Oxide to Disciple 1-1, give me a sitrep."

"Oxide, Disciple 1-1 here," Lerch responded through his mic. "All Shadows are rounds complete - clean house. Crow's nest is empty, no jackpot on primary HVI Plutarch, negative on Crius."

"Copy that."

After the curt reply, Lerch turned back to the scene in front of him. Bloody bodies filled with bullet holes littered the courtyard, with many more slumped over inside the villa halls. Lerch had to hand it to them - they had balls standing their ground in the face of overwhelming odds. Still, despite their best attempts to fight back, there was absolutely no way that the ancient Roman guards could ever hope to win against an expertly planned raid from a modern military force.

Even a group of badly trained insurgents could have taken the place with ease.

"All Shadows, we are clear. Area secure. Commence SSE - I want this place turned completely inside out," He ordered, and not a moment later, several Shadows from Carnival emerged from the other hall, stepping past with black trash bags in hand as they started searching through the rooms for any valuable intel. "Leave nothing behind! Papers, books, letters - if it's got writing on it, toss it in the bags! I'm sure our analysts would love to give y'all a smooch for every piece you bring back!"

Some of the Shadows loudly chuckled in response to the comment, the air around the villa becoming more casual now that it was no longer an active combat zone. He smirked as the laughter died down, before a loud commotion nearby drew his attention.

"I'm not gonna tell you again! Sit down and shut the fuck up!"

Roze eyed the hall that the shouting came from, before turning to Lerch with a raised brow as if expecting an explanation.

He merely shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, clearly just as lost as she was.

The trio began making their way down the hallway together, following the sound of the angry yelling until they stopped in front of the source. One of the Shadows from Carnival 1 stood guard in an open doorway, the irritated voice of his squad leader coming from within the dimly lit room. Over his shoulder, they spotted a lone figure sitting on a bed. Their posture was slouched, with their hands folded neatly in their lap and their eyes focused intently on the floor below.

The trio approached the room, causing the Shadow guarding the doorway to turn around at the sound of their footsteps. Seeing who it was, he stepped aside, letting them enter without protest - a rather wise decision, considering who they were.

"What's going on here?" Lerch asked, approaching the other squad leader. The man briefly glanced back as he acknowledged their presence, before he resumed glaring at the person in front of him.

"Got a rowdy one here," Carnival 1 scoffed, gesturing towards the meek woman sitting on the edge of the bed. "The little thing won't sit still. Goin' on and on about her master or something."

Now that he was in the room, Lerch was finally able to get a better look at who the other Shadow was yelling at.

It was a rather pretty young girl dressed in a simple and plain maid dress. She had jet black hair with a mix of white, however, what really stood out about her to him was the bunny ears sat atop her head. Or rather, the single bunny ear, as the left one appeared to have been cut off long ago; judging by the scarred over stump of where it should have been. And the mention of her master? She was most definitely a slave, just like so many others in the region.

Despite the other Shadow's comment, she seemed to be quite docile now, staring down at the floor below with a blank expression on her face.

"Your master," Roze spoke up from beside him, a hint of intrigue in her voice. "He wouldn't happen to be a bookkeeper by the name of Plutarch Imbrex, would he?"

The maid didn't say a single word in response, but the very subtle twitch on her face told them all they needed to know. That, and the fact that she was found in a rather lavishly decorated bedroom within the villa. She gave them a slow nod, refusing to elaborate any further as she kept to herself.

"The cellar below the stables, who's in there?"

"Other demi-human slaves-"

"No humans?" Lerch asked, cutting her off.

She closed her eyes as she wordlessly shook her head. Lerch let out a tired sigh at the information. Great, now they had an empty villa filled with dead guards, neither of their targets on site, and a bunch of slaves sitting locked up in a cellar. Not exactly the most ideal outcome, nor a situation that he wanted to deal with in the first place.

"They got anywhere to go?"

Her face now sported a frown as her stare burned a hole into the black boots in front of her. "No, sir… We went wherever Plutarch went. At least… until he sold us off to someone else. The same faces never stayed for very long…" She trailed off into a downtrodden whisper as her bangs fell over her eyes.

"So that means Plutarch was here?"

"He was…" She confirmed with a small nod, glancing away from the shadowy strangers.

"Lerch, something's not adding up here," Roze said, leaning forward and speaking in a hushed tone. "If Plutarch really was here, and he really did give us the slip, Avatar 1 woulda' said something."

Lerch said nothing as he watched the demi-human maid sit in silence, her attention clearly focused elsewhere as she tightly gripped the hem of her skirt. Her eyes flickered to his as she felt herself being watched, locking briefly before she quickly averted her gaze, trying to keep her expression neutral. She was eyeing a rug laid out beside the bed, clearly seeing something that they didn't.

Lerch made a show of stepping up to a window nearby, watching her face for any possible reaction. After a few steps, there were no shifts in her expression, but a familiar sound in the quiet room made him still for a moment as he furrowed his brows.

The wooden floorboards creaked, straining underneath the weight of his body.

Looking down, he decided to test his new discovery by stomping his foot against the boards. The floor thudded below him with a faint echo, unlike the more solid tiles of the rest of the villa, meaning that it was hollow and empty…

He silently turned around, his eyes meeting his squad mates as he put a finger up to his lips, before directing it down towards the rug beneath him.

Roze and Viktor followed his finger, clearly getting his message as they gave him a nod. The two flicked the safety off of their guns, preparing to shoulder them as they steadily creeped closer. As they did so, he carefully knelt down, before slowly dragging the rug off, revealing a hidden trapdoor.

All the Shadows in the room exchanged brief glances as Viktor crouched down, leveling his AK up and keeping it pointed towards the newly uncovered door in preparation - While Roze stood right behind him with her M4 held right above his head.

Lerch wrapped his hand around the handle, before glancing back to make sure that his team was ready. Viktor nodded, giving him the go ahead as he never once took his eyes off. Lerch swiftly yanked the door open, before his two teammates immediately flooded the entryway with bright beams of white light.

"Fucking moles…" Viktor groaned in exasperation. A sentiment that Lerch found himself wholeheartedly agreeing with. Just like he predicted, the trapdoor that was hidden underneath the rug contained a tunnel system that went subterranean, not unlike the many ones that he encountered back during his time in the sandy deserts of the Middle East.

"Fuckin' great. Just what we needed. Some more bullshit to deal with…" Lerch sighed out, before reaching for the push to talk on his vest. "Oxide, Disciple 1-1 here. How copy?"

"Reading you 1-1, send traffic."

"We've got an underground ratline in the villa's bedroom here. Some real El Chapo shit. Can't verify exactly how far the tunnel system expands or where it even leads, but I'm guessin' that's how Plutarch slipped out during all the commotion. We're gonna need some more Shadows out here if we want to fully clear it out."

Lerch received a response almost instantly, but from a different voice that wasn't Oxide's. "Negative Disciple, we cannot burn the midnight oil on this," Graves said, his tone sounding quite stern. "We already took a calculated risk conducting this raid in the first place, and if Plutarch knows that we're after him now, then it's probably safe to assume that Crius will also know soon enough."

Lerch glanced at the bunny girl still sitting at the edge of the bed, Carnival 1 looming over her with his rifle safely pointed down. "Then we'll need to speed things up," He suggested.

"I couldn't agree more," Graves replied casually. "Finish up SSE, move your teams, and then call for fire. I want that place leveled before you get your asses back to HQ. Am I clear?"

"Yep, yep!" Lerch responded with a firm nod, even though Graves wouldn't see it.

"And uh, what about her?" Carnival's squad leader cut in, gesturing towards the demi-human maid still sitting in the room with them. "Or, you know, the other slaves in the stable cellar?"

"The ones in the cellar aren't our problem. Get them food and cooking supplies from the kitchen, tell them that they're free, and then point them to the Alnus Hill refugee community northeast of here. It's a day and a half journey at most, so they'll have to set up camp at least once before they arrive." Lerch instructed indifferently, before narrowing his eyes at the bunny-eared girl as he stepped up to her. "This one though - she might have her uses…"

The demi-human's eyes widened like saucers as she stared up at Lerch's colossal form towering over her. "W-What?!" She asked with a sense of dread.

"You knew about the trapdoor hidden underneath the rug in Plutarch's room - the same one that leads to a secret escape tunnel that he took to get the hell out of dodge! That makes me wonder what other secrets you might know about…"

"W-What?! Sir, p-please, that's it! That's the entire extent of my knowledge! I-I don't know anything else, sir!"

"Don't play coy with me!" Lerch barked out in a serious warning tone, grabbing onto the collar of her maid dress and roughly pulling her closer. "How deep are the tunnels? Where do they lead?"

"Please, just let me go! I haven't done anything wrong to deserve this! I don't want to be used anymore! I don't want to be property anymore! I just want my freedom!" She pleaded frantically, tears spilling from her panicked eyes as Carnival 1 held her steady.

Seeing that she wasn't cooperating and on the verge of hysteria, Lerch let go of her collar, releasing her from his grip. As much as he wanted to press her on the topic of their HVI further, he knew that they wouldn't be getting anywhere by speaking with someone who refused to talk. At least, not yet. But, with her being a demi-human and the only survivor amongst a bunch of mostly male staff, Lerch had plenty of other questions for her that could be answered at another time. "Fine then, be that way. We'll get it out of you soon enough. Zip her up and take her to the choppers for egress!"

"Yes, sir!" Carnival 1 replied, pulling out a pair of black flex cuffs and zipping them around her wrists, restraining her arms behind her back as she continued to cry out desperately.

"No! Please! Let me go! I am not becoming a slave again to a different master!" She wailed, trying to kick at her new captors.

The other squad leader smacked her in the back of the head, putting a stop to her difficulties. "Get a move on! Now!" He commanded as she stumbled forward.

Lerch watched on as the other Shadows toiled out of the room with her in tow, before Velikan stepped past them with Shane at his side, a nearly full black trash bag slung over his shoulder.

"We got what we needed?" Lerch asked expectantly, to which Velikan responded by reaching inside the bag and pulling out a fancy - albeit slightly worn - red leather book, which he shook in presentation. A satisfied smirk appeared on his face as he reached for the radio on his vest once more. "All Shadows, mission complete. We are exfil, exfil, exfil!"

Author's Notes:

Again, I apologize for the wait on this chapter, but I don't put out stuff unless I think it's somewhat up to snuff. Unfortunately, this is a more mediocre, action oriented chapter that I'm not really proud of - which I guess contradicts the previous statement I just made - but I feel that I've kept y'all waiting long enough.

I did enjoy writing Velikan's melee fight with the three guards though, as I was listening to the John Wick OST while working on this chapter. "Sumo Showdown" by Tyler Bates really fit the mood of that scene, and it got me pumped as I figured that the best way to properly showcase how Velikan earned the tales of his many exploits, was to have him be a blood thirsty psychopath that rushed in for the kill.

Also, don't worry, I'm not abandoning this story anytime soon, folks. I've seen some of the guest reviews, and if I ever was gonna do such a thing, I'd figure out a way to disclose that to you rather than just going dark (Despite the fact that I basically do that in between chapter uploads).

These things take time, and I believe putting out quality is more important than quantity.