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Steve struggled to maintain his composure despite the explosion that had shaken him to his core. He couldn't afford to let his emotions consume him or allow doubts to cloud his mind. However, the nagging concerns about the severity of the situation, the possibility of casualties, and the safety of his friends plagued his thoughts. He forcefully pushed these worries aside, desperately trying to maintain his focus.

After torturous twenty minutes of transit, Steve was wrenched out of the car and dragged through a yard of some kind. He strained his ears, trying to discern his whereabouts by the sounds around him, mentally mapping out the route since he'd been forced into the SUV.

Based on the distant hum of boat engines and the faint crashing of waves, he deduced that he had been taken somewhere in the harbor.

His struggles proved futile as his feet scraped across the gritty pavement until abruptly coming to a halt. Rough hands shoved him down, causing him to collide with the hard, cold floor. It reignited the pain in his liver that had only just started to subside, but he knew the dull ache would stay with him for days. It wasn't the type of blow that could be easily shaken off.

Someone whisked away the bag off his head and bright light flooded his vision. He took a moment to adjust to the sensory overload, then peered around him.

The confined space felt suffocating. It was a long and narrow rectangular room, maybe twenty by eight feet, and the fluorescent light from his captors' flashlights bounced off its light gray metallic walls. Steve had seen enough cargo containers in his life to know he was inside one of them. Against the harsh brightness, he could discern the silhouettes of four men standing in the doorway.

In the process of sitting up, he was caught off guard as one of the men closed the distance between them. Before he could react, a heavy boot crashed across his jaw with enough force to rattle his senses. Pain exploded in his skull as his head snapped back, and blood flooded his mouth almost instantly.

Suppressing a groan, Steve gritted his teeth and rolled onto his back, taking a moment to clear his swimming vision. As his focus sharpened, he found Makoni looming over him, his eyes filled with murderous intent.

"You like to cause trouble, don't you, Commander?" Makoni sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "I should shoot you right now."

Steve spat out blood pooling in his mouth. "If you wanted to shoot me, I'd be dead already."

"You're right." Makoni grinned, revealing his stained teeth. "Don't think I won't kill you. Because I will. But I won't make it that easy for you."

Steve tried to adjust his hands against the cable ties biting into his wrists behind his back, but it was futile.

"So, what's your plan?" Steve asked, his voice laced with curiosity as he wondered why he was still breathing.

"After I kill you?" Makoni mocked.

"Between now and killing me," Steve pressed on. "Why did you risk coming back?"

For a long, tense moment, they locked eyes in silence before Makoni finally spoke, his voice dripping with venom. "To watch you suffer," he hissed.

Steve stared back at him wordlessly.

"You ruined everything I spent my entire life building," Makoni continued, his anger simmering. "You and your team."

"You got what you deserved," Steve retorted firmly.

Makoni scoffed. "You don't understand. You had it easy from the beginning. Born in a free country, probably into a loving family who pampered you your whole life."

Steve saw no need to correct the man's wrong assumptions.

"But I wasn't so lucky. Where I come from, there is no life. But I refused to give up and merely survive. I am a warrior. I've always been one. I rose to the top, and it wasn't an easy journey."

"You did nothing," Steve interjected. "Your army of kidnapped children fought your battles for you."

"They followed my lead because I gave them purpose," Makoni defended himself, a hint of defiance in his voice. "A vision of a better life."

Steve shook his head in disbelief. "A life in slavery? Forced to murder and torture people? You call that a better life?"

"I don't expect you to understand," Makoni snapped. "I did what I had to do. I built a good life. I was financially secure and free. Until you took that away."

Steve gazed up at Makoni, struggling to comprehend how the man could truly believe he had done nothing wrong. Makoni had funded a war with blood diamonds, leaving a trail of hundreds of innocent people dead by his own hand and thousands more under his command. He slaughtered anyone who crossed his path, regardless of age or gender.

The memory of Brennan's interview with Patrice Thomas, a young Congolese man who had fallen victim to Roko Makoni as a child, sent shivers down Steve's spine. The horrors Patrice had endured, along with his younger brother, had left an indelible scar. It was no wonder, considering what Makoni and his men had done to their family.

Roko Makoni was not a mere monster. Monsters were figments of imagination. Makoni was all too real.

And now, he had set his sights on Steve and his team. It was a grim reality that offered no promising outcome.

"So, you see, Commander," Makoni continued, a spark of excitement igniting in his eyes, "you took away the life I worked so hard to achieve. You stole my freedom and left me to suffer behind bars for almost four years. I lost everything I cared about. You ask why I came back?"

Steve could sense the twisted pleasure Makoni derived from his words.

"To repay the favor."

With those chilling words, Makoni turned on his heel and walked away, his three companions following suit. The heavy metal door slammed shut, plunging Steve into utter darkness, leaving him alone with his racing thoughts.

Danny came to in what appeared to be a hospital room, surrounded by white cabinets and sterile medical equipment. He lay in a portable hospital bed with a thin white sheet draped over his legs. Groggily, he glanced down and saw a needle embedded deep in the vein running along his forearm.

He blinked hard in an attempt to wake himself up.

The steady beep of a heart monitor echoed in the room, filling the silence with a rhythmic reminder of life's fragile balance. His head throbbed, and as he tried to sit up, a sharp pain shot through his chest, causing him to wince and lie back down.

He felt every bit of his age now. Despite the cocktail of sedatives swirling through his system, there was no denying he was hurt. Slowly, tentatively, he lifted a hand and ran it across his scalp. Pain flared as his finger touched the sterile gauze on the side of his head.

Confusion clouded his thoughts as he struggled to piece together what had happened. The last thing he remembered was a deafening explosion followed by an intense pain. What the hell had happened?

There was no one in sight.

Then Lou stepped into view.

His clothes were dirty and torn, and his face and arms were covered in numerous bloody cuts and fresh bruises. He crossed the room and came to a halt by the side of Danny's bed.

"You had me worried for a moment," he said, his voice carrying both concern and relief.

Danny cleared his throat. "What happened?"

Lou's grew solemn, lines etched with worry. "There was an explosion at the restaurant."

The gravity of the situation settled heavily upon Danny, intensifying his desire for more information. "How bad?"

"Bad."

Danny pushed against the bed, attempting to sit up once again, but Lou forced him back down with a gentle push. He grunted in protest.

"Easy, Danny," Lou said, his hand still firmly resting on Danny's shoulder. "You need to take it slow."

Concern etched Danny's face as he pressed further. "Where are the others?"

Lou's shoulders sagged deeper. "Tani's with Junior," Lou said. "He's not in good shape, but he'll pull through."

"Adam? Jerry?"

"Jerry's at HQ. Trying to piece things together. And Adam…" Lou hesitated. "Adam's still in surgery. We haven't heard anything yet. He was hurt pretty bad."

A surge of panic shot through Danny's veins, his mind instantly racing to worst-case scenarios. He forced himself to take in a deep, calming breath.

"We need to call Steve. He should know."

"Yeah, about that…"

Instant worry gripped Danny's chest, amplifying the fear that had been building in him. Something was terribly wrong.

*to be continued*

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