Hey everyone. Once again, as life gets hectic in the lead-up to the summer, I hope everyone has endured the past few difficult weeks. Please try to review my story when you have the time, though. Anyway, thank you to the following people who reviewed chapter 11: FierceDeity24, rlcapritta(Dragons Boy now, right?), phantom1299, A happy reader, Clytuis, DeathDrayanD, Alpha Death, trevorarnett32, Thiazzie, AresTheUnderlander, SlyIntellect, TheGreatAthlon5 and pyro159. I know there's one more guy who reviewed but unfortunately I don't know who you are because a glitch in the website is preventing me from reading reviews that have been submitted over the last few days.

Anyway, some of you have expressed dismay over the fight between Gregor and Ripred. While I can't say it will happen for sure, all I can say is that I knew this would happen. At the start of the story I promised it would be controversial, and that's exactly what I've made this story. I'm taking risks and although some of you appreciate it, I understand that other people won't.

Please remember to go to my profile page and check out the poll I have created at the top of the page. Do remember to vote so I have a better understanding of all your opinions.

This chapter is from Calvin's perspective.


Chapter 12: Battle Ground

Calvin parked his Bentley Continental GT next to the Rolls-Royce Phantom. The ultimate luxury vehicles that acted as a masquerade for his emotional poverty.

If the soul had no meaning and purpose, neither did all the goods in the world he owned.

He sighed to himself before slowly getting out of the car, feeling as if the talk with Mr Carter had aged him.

But the feelings of sadness and longing were suddenly banished when something caught Calvin's eye. He instantly moved towards a few small spots on the ground. He took out his handkerchief and picked one of the small objects up. Unevenly shaped, dusty, brown in colour… Bird droppings, maybe? Nope, definitely not bird shit… Was it some kind of faecal matter at all?

Definitely not. Mr Carter had trained him to observe faecal matter of foxes, rats and bats. This did not appear to belong to any of the above… so what was it? It took Calvin a couple more seconds to deduce what it was.

Mud.

Dried mud which was once caked to the sole of a boot.

It couldn't belong to Mr Carter or Calvin. Rain may have assaulted New York earlier, but there was no way that the mud they treaded on had dried so quickly. The mud was also incongruous when compared to the mud found on Calvin's sole right now. Which meant that the mud belonged to someone else.

With his senses on high alert, Calvin advanced towards the door of his house warily, searching for any other signs of the intruder or trespasser. Whether the trespasser intended harm or not, Calvin was not going to let him or her off lightly. He continued to scan the ground for any signs of other dried mud, but he found none. A careless mistake on the part of the intruder, then.

As Calvin walked to the doorway, his eyes immediately shot up to glance at the CCTV system.

As expected, the glow from the light wasn't there. It had been shut down long ago.

Why didn't the backup power system then come on? Or had that been disabled too?

Calvin was now absolutely certain that the intruder was not some harmless boy trying to play a prank on him. This was dead serious.

Calvin glanced up at the passcode system, which was encrypted and meant to deny anyone entry into the house, with the exception of Mr Bennett and himself. But as he began to dabble with the security system at the door, he quickly realised it had been disabled too. Silly him. If the CCTV system had been disabled, they probably had the capacity to disable his security system too. This was no ordinary burglar trying his luck at a rich man's home.

This was a coordinated ambush, and Calvin wouldn't be surprised if there was more than one person involved in this ambush. Based on the professionalism of the work done in shutting down his security system, Calvin could kind of deduce it was Operation Claw.

His thoughts went straight towards Mr Bennett's safety, and although he felt his heartbeat start to stampede he quickly quelled it. Now wasn't the time to panic. If he did, he could potentially risk losing both Mr Bennett's and his life. He needed to maintain his composure to stand any chance of surviving the next few minutes.

It was moments like these when he really missed his guns. They would have come in really handy in helping to combat the mercenaries who were waiting for him just behind the door. But then he remembered Vikus lying in a pool of blood right in front of him. Calvin thought he could hear the faintest sound of a gunshot coming from his fingers, but he wasn't sure.

He wasn't sure?

He shook his head. Vikus was being too much of a distraction. He had to focus on getting Mr Bennett put safely. As the door in front of him was the one that was electronically opened, that would mean that they would have to go to the other door, which could be manually opened. That door if tampered with could trigger the cops, but Operation Claw had probably disabled that system too.

He leisurely strolled to the wooden doors that stood between him and the ruthless mercenaries that had either killed Mr Bennett already or were holding him hostage. He instantly checked the lock and found tiny scratch marks showing fresh, shiny metal around the keyhole. The visible dents and scuff marks told him that they had used the oldest trick in the book.

Lock picking. So much for their expert professionalism.

Calvin took out his keys and casually unlocked the door, before stepping into the house calmly. He took off the bespoke jacket he was wearing and hung it up, trying to display sangfroid as the tension surrounding him went up a notch. "Mr Bennett, I'm home!" he called out nonchalantly.

He quickly mapped out a plan in his head. The key priority would be to get to his arsenal of weapons. Not the guns, but the other things he normally had in his utility belt. The flash-bang grenades, the gas and smoke pellets, the sonic devastator, the stun pellets… they could incapacitate instead of killing. They'd be perfect for Calvin to combat the mercenaries with. Those were all downstairs in the basement.

The problem was that they'd probably gotten there already. He may have had a security system, but knowing their technology they had disabled that too. It was only a matter of time before they discovered his arsenal of weapons.

Then his heart skipped a beat. Mr Bennett came shuffling down the hallway awkwardly. The body language told the whole story. He was under duress. Calvin could see all the signs- the tense shoulder muscles, the sweat gathering around his brow, the stiffened facial expression. The red marks around his wrists indicated that he was bound earlier. So they had gotten to Mr Bennett first.

Calvin needed to act quickly or both of them would be dead within seconds. Mr Bennett had emerged from the kitchen, meaning that there were probably at least two of them hiding there. Another one probably waiting for him near the entrance into the living room. He had to get to the living room to get to the stairs, which meant that one way or another, he was going to have to go through at least one of them.

"Hello, Calvin," Mr Bennett said in a surprisingly calm tone.

Calvin was running out of time and options. "Get down", he mouthed to Mr Bennett, still unsure of what to do next.

At the very least, Mr Bennett seemed to acknowledge the message, as he nodded slowly and deliberately.

Then Calvin had an idea. He sprang forward as nimbly and quietly as possible. Just as he made his way past Mr Bennett, he threw his keys at the entrance leading from the hallway into the living room.

The keys flew through the air and clattered with a shrill sound against the doorway.

That provoked furious gunfire as a hail of bullets from two directions tore through the walls ferociously, firing in the direction of the keys. Calvin then rushed into the kitchen and instantly dived to the ground, rolling straight into the mercenaries and avoiding their gunfire totally. He hammered his head into the groin of one of them, wincing from the throbbing pain that now stung his head. As the mercenary howled in pain, he immediately capitalised on the confusion to get up and wrap one arm around the mercenary's neck, while jabbing the mercenary's ulnar nerve with the other.

The mercenary dropped the gun and Calvin now used his free hand to grab his knife and press it against his throat. He quickly took in his surroundings. Two mercenaries, pointing their rifles at him. Calvin saw one of them tightening his finger around the trigger.

Of course they were prepared to let a fellow mercenary die. Calvin should have seen this coming.

He threw the knife at the mercenary about to pull the trigger. The knife hit the mercenary's left shoulder. Calvin then applied pressure to the throat of the mercenary he was choking. The mercenary's body instantly became limp. He wasn't dead, but Calvin suspected he was going to be out for at least the next twenty minutes.

He shoved the unconscious mercenary forward, surprising the other two mercenaries. Calvin spotted the frying pan searing with oil in it. That was probably his dinner.

Calvin raced forward and grabbed hold of the handle, before flinging the sizzling oil at one of the mercenary's face. His screams of agony almost made Calvin feel sorry for him. Calvin grabbed a glass and threw it at the same mercenary's face, smashing against his forehead and sending him unconscious.

Calvin then charged forward at the mercenary bearing the knife in his left shoulder, who was similarly groaning in pain. Just as he turned around to shoot Calvin, Calvin swung the frying pan at his face. The piping hot metal smashed his face, causing his screaming to move up one pitch higher. Calvin hit his face a second time with the frying pan, and just as the mercenary sagged forward from the blow, Calvin finished him off with a vicious kick to the head.

Just then another mercenary entered the fray, stepping into the kitchen to get involved. Calvin instinctively threw a plate at him, and the mercenary instinctively shot it in mid-air. The plate broke in mid-air and its scattered pieces cascaded across the floor. A beautiful sight in slow motion, if Calvin had the time to enjoy it.

Calvin now grabbed a steak knife and hurled himself forward. He stabbed it into the mercenary's right bicep, causing him to drop the gun with a yelp of pain. Calvin slammed his palm into the mercenary's chin and sent the mercenary staggering back. Another punch from Calvin broke the mercenary's protective mask and sent the mercenary reeling again from the blow. Calvin then rammed him into the wall with a roar, before slamming the mercenary's head against the wall with a solid shove.

The mercenary slumped down clearly knocked out cold from the blow. Calvin glanced down at his hand. His blood flowed down his hand like a stream flowing down a valley. He winced slightly as he fingered his knuckles. Even if they weren't broken, they had definitely taken a hit that was beyond what he could usually take.

Shrugging the pain off, Calvin calmly walked out of the kitchen and back into the hallway, where he was confronted by the sight of a mercenary holding a gun to Mr Bennett's head. "Game's over, Mr Oberton!" the mercenary called out, "Time for you to come with us!"

So this wasn't an attempt to assassinate him… this was a kidnapping attempt. Calvin had no idea why they were pursuing him, but he wasn't going to throw in the towel and meekly surrender to them.

He glanced at the mercenary closely, who had taken his protective visor off to speak to Calvin. To Calvin's mild surprise, the mercenary actually looked far too relaxed. Sure, when you were fighting a kid you didn't need to panic, but there was something about his body language that just spoke of… satisfaction? Why would he be satisfied with this current situation?

But Calvin's concern about the mercenary's body language was quickly dispelled. The mercenary's eyes widened ever so slightly and his pupils seemed to dilate. He was seeing something that was about to happen. There was a flicker of a smile playing on the edges of his lips.

Calvin spun around and found himself face-to-face with another mercenary.

With lightning-quick reflexes, Calvin grabbed the nozzle of the gun and pushed upwards, pointing the nozzle in the direction of the ceiling. He then took a step to close the distance before kneeing the mercenary in the groin. He then used his free hand to punch the mercenary in the gut, although with the bulletproof vest the mercenary was wearing it did little harm.

The mercenary pressed down hard on the trigger, causing bullets to spray up into the air before showering the floor like rain pellets falling down. Gritting his teeth, Calvin slammed his body into the mercenary, sending the both of them sprawling across the floor.

Amidst the confusion, Calvin managed to quietly snatch a knife from the mercenary's utility belt. As the mercenary rolled around, Calvin lunged forward and deliberately slit both of the mercenary's wrists.

Then the mercenary's flailing boot hit his face and sent him flying to one side.

Calvin stumbled to his feet and found the mercenary training his weapon on him. Calvin took a quick glance at the man's wrists.

At first, he panicked when nothing seemed to happen. And then, just out of the corner of his eye…

A drop of blood dramatically dripped off his wrist and sploshed against the velvet carpet.

The mercenary's hands started vibrating violently, before he dropped the gun entirely as his hands trembled even more uncontrollably by the second. Calvin then raced forward and slammed the hilt of the knife into the mercenary's face, knocking him out for good.

Calvin then turned around to find the mercenary holding on to Mr Bennett pointing his gun at him. He had all the time in the world to shoot. Calvin knew that from experience. All a good shooter needed was half a second of a clear shot and he would take it with relish. Calvin should be dead by then. The mercenary had multiple opportunities to kill him. Why hadn't he pulled the trigger?

Calvin didn't bother wasting any more time or thought into wondering why he was still breathing. He immediately dove for the unconscious mercenary and hauled the body in front of him.

A gunshot rang out in the air.

Calvin flew back suddenly and his back slammed against the wall. For a split second, he wondered if he had been shot and he looked down. But there was no blood.

It dawned on him that the bullet had hit the bulletproof vest of the unconscious mercenary he was holding on to, and the impact of the shot had sent both parties flying back. Calvin could have spent all day counting his lucky stars that the bullet somehow missed his head.

Or had there been any luck involved at all?

No, the mercenaries had tried to kill him… right? They must have fired at him on a couple of occasions, which meant that they intended to… intended to kill him? But he had never known Snake's mercenaries to put up such a weak fight. It was as if they were begging to suffer an ignominious defeat and humiliation at the hands of an eighteen-year-old kid who hadn't fought for more than a year.

Something was definitely wrong.

But Calvin wasn't here to trade mercies with them. He noticed Mr Bennett giving the slightest of nods. The old man then stamped down hard on the mercenary's right foot, freeing up space for him to drive a fierce elbow strike into the mercenary's ribs. Calvin immediately sprinted forward as the mercenary pointed his gun back at Mr Bennett's head. As time continued to tick down slowly, Calvin threw himself into the air.

He could see everything in those split seconds he was in the air. The mercenary, distracted by some surprisingly vicious attacks from Mr Bennett, was a mere two seconds from ending Mr Bennett's life. Mr Bennett had a confident look of expectation in his eyes. He trusted Calvin to save his life. Calvin knew he couldn't let Mr Bennett down. Not now.

Mr Bennett ducked his head and gave Calvin the freedom to lash out with a savage kick at the mercenary's head. The mercenary flew back several feet as Calvin crash-landed unceremoniously on Mr Bennett. The two of them spiralled over and landed on the ground in a confused heap. Calvin's heart picked up the pace again when he heard Mr Bennett cry out slightly. Ignoring the need to turn and check out how his caretaker was doing, Calvin forced himself back onto his feet.

He charged straight at the mercenary, who was on one knee struggling to regain his bearings. Calvin mercilessly drove his knee into the mercenary's forehead, knocking the mercenary back down on his back. Calvin then stepped down on the mercenary's wrist and applied heavy pressure, not stopping until he heard a crack and the cry of agony which complemented it. Calvin then pinned the mercenary to the ground and hit the mercenary across the face with a ferocious right hook. The mercenary's head slumped to one side to confirm his unconsciousness.

Calvin took a deep breath and stumbled to his feet. He turned back around and hurried over to Mr Bennett, who lay on the floor clutching his ankle. The old man bit down on his tongue to hold himself back from screaming in pain. "What happened?" Calvin asked tentatively as he reached out to cradle Mr Bennett's ankle.

"You landed on it," Mr Bennett said accusingly, but not before managing a half smile, "But I'm still glad you came when you did."

"Is that the last of them?" Calvin asked as he supported Mr Bennett up. The old man wasn't going to be able to use his right foot for now.

"For now… There are more coming," Mr Bennett managed to cough out despite the feeling of pain being etched all over his face, "I… I overheard them talking about backup, if necessary."

Just then, Calvin took a quick look outside the window and spotted a black SUV being parked on the side of the road, just outside the gate into the mansion.

Calvin smashed the glass on one of the displays lining the hallway and took out a wooden staff, which had been a gift from a Chinese corporation to his dad almost a decade ago. "Use this," he said gruffly, passing the wooden stick to Mr Bennett, "Get to the arsenal downstairs and gather all my stuff. If they get past me and come for you, use anything down there against them. You know the grenades and bombs just as well as I do."

"You're coming with me," Mr Bennett insisted, "I will not have you fighting them on your own!"

"Sorry Mr Bennett," Calvin replied firmly, "But that wasn't a request. It's an order."

"Don't be stupid, Calvin!" Mr Bennett snapped at him, "They're not your ordinary fox. They'll kill you on the spot. You don't have your-"

"Guns?" Calvin finished as he picked up a rifle on the floor, "I can handle myself. Just get down to the basement and protect yourself."

Mr Bennett's look of frustration soon transformed into a look of anxiety. "Be careful," he said softly, before hobbling off reluctantly towards the stairs with the assistance of the wooden staff.

Calvin then took another glance out of the window and saw three mercenaries calmly walking up the driveway with their rifles in hand. As much as he wouldn't admit it out loud, this was an insult to Calvin's ability. He had taken down six mercenaries within a span of ten minutes, and now only had to handle half that number.

But where was Snake?

He took another quick peek out of the window and observed his incoming assailants. None of them appeared to be the infamous mercenary. All of them lacked his imposing and hulking body frame, and each one of them also looking slightly relaxed. Snake didn't seem like the kind of guy who would take any mission as lightly as the three incoming mercenaries appeared to be.

This wasn't the time to display weakness or mercy, though. He would get to the bottom of the whole matter, but for now he had to focus on taking them out. That was the sole priority right now, and nothing could be in his way to distract him.

He slowly backed away, counting the seconds in his head. Within the next ten seconds, they would…

The doors flew open dramatically with an earth-shattering explosion. Calvin had no time to weigh his options anymore. It was time for years of hard experience and instinctive muscle memory to guide him out of this predicament.

He turned around and dashed for the library, as the sound of thundering gunfire tore the silence to pieces. A couple of bullets ricocheted off the walls and nearly hit him on his way, but Lady Luck seemed to swat the bullets aside to protect him as he kept his head low and made a mad dash towards the library.

He threw himself through the glass doors and into the library, hissing in pain as shards of glass bit down on his skin. He shrugged the pain off and began making his way deeper into the library. He quietly thanked his father for all those years of gathering manuscripts and books. Together, on rows upon rows of wooden shelves, they formed the perfect maze. The library wasn't gigantic, but it was big enough for Calvin to take on three mercenaries.

He looked down at the gun in his hand and he made a face in disgust. Guns, which had once been treasured like gold bars to him, now appeared to be nothing more than a greasy, blood-stained workman's tools in his hands. A weapon which took the lives of human beings who didn't deserve to die by his hand. He didn't exist to play judge, jury and executioner. He existed to protect the lives of the disenfranchised and vulnerable, and the weapon in his hands did exactly the opposite to them. He was nothing but a cold-blooded murderer at the end of the day if he used it.

No better than the people who had killed his father.

But now it had its uses. In about half a minute, he hastily removed a few books from one of the shelves and propped the gun up in position. He quickly backed away to survey his handiwork. The nozzle could be seen just jutting out from the shelf, which was perfect for his plan. He now softly made his way through the book shelves and got into position.

He didn't have long to wait. As expected, the sound of glass being crushed reverberated around the room. The mercenaries had inadvertently alerted him to their presence by stepping on the glass shards, which was the first part of the plan. As the intensity in the room increased, Calvin felt sweat clinging to his shirt as the sound of footsteps drew nearer and nearer. He did have the upper hand, though. None of them knew this library as well as he did.

"Split up," he heard one of the mercenaries bark gruffly, "He's got to be here."

That was his cue. Calvin grabbed one heavy book from the shelf next to him and tossed it across, before darting around the shelves. He closed his eyes and waited for the book to thud against the ground.

The moment it did, he heard the sound of gunfire echo across the room. This was his chance to do some damage.

He walked around one of the shelves and found himself facing the back of one of the mercenaries. The mercenary was aiming in the direction of the fallen book, which was the intended effect. Calvin wrapped his arm around the mercenary's neck and applied the pressure, beginning to choke him.

As expected, the mercenary pressed hard on the trigger, causing bullets to fly out wildly all over the place. "Jake?" Calvin heard one of the other mercenaries call out, "Did you get the kid?"

Spittle flew out of Jake's mouth as he tried to talk, but Calvin then used his free hand to pull the pistol in Jake's belt out, before slamming the handle of the gun against his forehead. Jake's head lulled forward to indicate he was no longer conscious, leaving Calvin to gently place his body on the ground. Still holding on to the pistol, Calvin fired two rounds into the air to signal where Jake's body was.

He then sprinted to another hiding place, positioning himself behind another shelf. They were now walking back towards Jake's unconscious body, which meant that at least one of them was going to come face to face with the nozzle of the gun which he had propped up earlier.

He waited for it. The sudden reactive gunfire which would ensure.

And then it came. He heard a scream of surprise before gunfire ripped through the tense atmosphere in the library, destroying the peace and silence that normally came hand in hand in this place of reading and learning. Calvin would have laughed at the hilarity of the thought, but considering the situation all he could manage was a grim smile at the irony.

As the gunfire continued to follow, Calvin quietly made his way around the bend of another shelf and found himself facing the back of the mercenary, as expected. The mercenary was too busy firing at the gun which had been propped up to notice Calvin sneaking up on him. Calvin ruthlessly brought the handle of the pistol down on the back of the mercenary's neck with full force.

The blow caused the mercenary to crumple down instantly and lie flat on the ground. Calvin knew that the mercenary had just sustained a possibly crippling wound, but he was pretty sure that it wouldn't be fatal. The worst case scenario would be that he would be paralysed for life, which he fully deserved having been a twisted and warped murderer.

Bullets now penetrated the shelves and flew in his direction, forcing him to duck down and roll on the ground for cover. He threw himself behind another shelf as splinters of wood flew off shelves violently.

One more mercenary left. Just one more.

He heard the footsteps of the mercenary drawing nearer and nearer. It was almost time. He flexed and stretched his muscles, ready for a feat he had once been physically capable of doing. But years of toiling in the office and helping kids in Africa had weakened his resolve and his strength.

But he wasn't going to let that be an excuse. Not when there was so much at stake and not when Mr Bennett's life was the price to pay for a lack of physical strength. Physical strength was not a limiting factor. It was the mind which could push a body beyond its limits and force it to perform feats of strength which appeared to be downright impossible.

And Calvin's mental strength was ready for the push.

The footsteps were now pretty much slamming down on his eardrums. That was how close the mercenary was- on the other side of the bookshelf. He had positioned himself perfectly for Calvin.

"WHERE ARE YOU, KID?" the mercenary yelled out in frustration.

Calvin didn't bother to answer him with any words. Instead, he shut his eyes and prayed silently for strength. And then, with all the energy and power he could muster from his muscles and sinew, he heaved against the bookshelf.

At first, he panicked when it made a creaking sound but did not move. If this failed, he would have pretty much alerted the mercenary to his presence on the other side of the shelf.

But then he pushed himself. Exerting every single last ounce of strength he still had left in his bones, he called on his mind to give him that extra bit more.

And then the shelf began to groan and teeter over.

And in that moment, more than a thousand pounds worth of books and the shelf itself came crashing down on the mercenary, whose scream was muffled as it collapsed on him and pinned him underneath mountains of books.

Calvin panted heavily as he leaned back against another shelf. But amidst his ragged breaths, he managed to afford a small smile of satisfaction. They had all been taken care of by him. An eighteen-year-old kid had been able to outsmart top military soldiers.

And that was when the smile inverted upside down and became a frown.

Because a single question kept echoing repeatedly inside his head amidst the euphoria of surviving this assault…

Why was he still alive?

"That's a good question," the mercenary chuckled, "The best answer is that you got lucky."

With the help of Mr Bennett, Calvin was able to round up the unconscious mercenaries, confiscate their weapons and handcuff them. A call to the police had probably been made by one of the neighbours following all the explosions and gunfire, which meant that Calvin didn't have a lot of time to get the answers he needed. He was going to have to speed up the interrogation before the cops came round.

"That's not the answer I'm looking for," Calvin snarled as he grabbed the collar of the mercenary's outfit and shook him roughly, "You guys could have killed me so many times. Why didn't you?"

"Why does it bother you?" the mercenary replied mockingly, "Does it hurt your ego to know we were superior to you? If you really wanna die, then you can go find it yourself."

"What do you mean?" Calvin growled as menacingly as possible.

The mercenary chuckled again before answering, "I'm sure he'd be willing to take you on. But he ain't gonna come to you. You gotta go to him."

"Snake?" Calvin asked.

"Who else?" the mercenary cackled derangedly, "The man's obsessed with ya."

"Where is he?" Calvin snarled threateningly.

"Where else?" the mercenary laughed, "On a farmhouse in Virginia."

Virginia. Calvin knew that state meant something to him.

Virginia.

Farmhouse in Virginia.

Farmhouse?

Oh no.

OH NO.

"MR BENNETT!" Calvin roared as he got up and began making his way towards the arsenal hurriedly.

"What is it, Master Calvin?" Mr Bennett called out as he shuffled forward with the help of the wooden staff.

"After the cops pick these guys up, you have to go to the Underland!" he called out as he began to make his way down the stairs towards the basement, "You have to go there and warn Gregor!"

"Warn Gregor about what?" Mr Bennett asked.

Calvin looked back up, and unable to keep the panic of out his voice, he replied,

"Tell him that Operation Claw is going after his family!"


Some of you(pyro159 in particular) have been waiting for Gregor's family to show up, and so here's how they show up! I hope you liked this chapter in setting up the events to come in the future. Another action-packed chapter, so I hope you enjoyed this one. I've made Calvin's fighting style different from Gregor's fighting style. Calvin is more of a master tactician in battle, while Gregor can rely on his rager abilities and skills to use physical brute force against his enemies. Gregor is also more brutal considering his age and the tragedies he's been through, while Calvin always tries to resort to non-lethal means. Once again, I hope you liked this chapter and the action in it.

Favourites/follows are always welcome. Reviews are encouraged too. And remember to check out the poll and vote!

Question: I accept that there may be a chance of my story being spoiled with this question, but I'm guessing some of you would like to answer this with relish so I honestly don't mind- What do you think is going to happen next? Will Calvin go there alone to take on Snake, or will he take the mercenaries on along with Gregor? Feel free to share your predictions in your reviews.