(The Warehouse - Midnight) Deacon moves like a ghost—clearing the entrance, slipping through shadows, taking down Murido's guards with brutal efficiency. No hesitation. No wasted movement. Each takedown is personal. A memory. A promise. A vow. He kicks open a back room door—finds more weapons on a table, crates of cash, phones, and two of Murido's top soldiers. They reach for their guns. Deacon shoots first. Two rounds. Two bodies drop. Then— A familiar voice behind him: "DEACON! DON'T DO THIS!" Hondo. The entire team stands at the doorway, weapons lowered—not at him, but in readiness against whoever might still be inside. Deacon doesn't turn around. "You should've stayed with my kids." Hondo steps forward. "Your kids need their father alive—not locked up. Not dead. Alive." Deacon's breathing grows sharp. Pain. Rage. Conflict. Street tries next. "Man... look at yourself. This isn't you." Deacon finally looks over his shoulder—and his eyes say you're wrong. "This is exactly me when someone hurts my family." Chris's voice trembles as she speaks. "Annie wouldn't want this." That stops him. It hits like a bullet. Deacon closes his eyes, jaw clenching hard enough to crack teeth. Hondo moves closer—slow, careful, like approaching a wounded predator. "Brother..." he says softly. "Let us take it from here." For the first time, Deacon wavers. His grip on his rifle loosens. His shoulders shake. His breath stutters. "I can't..." he whispers. "I can't just walk away." Hondo puts a hand on his shoulder. "You're not walking away. You're walking back—to your kids. To your team. To what Annie would have wanted." Deacon's head drops. A single tear falls. Then another. He lowers his rifle. The team exhales in collective relief. But the moment isn't over. A door deeper inside the warehouse slams open— Murido appears. Gun raised. Aimed directly at Deacon. Tan shouts, "DEACON, DOWN!" And everything explodes into motion.
Next Chap: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1261737465/ Prologue: Intro:
