CROSSFIRE

The soldiers crashed into the warehouse, weapons drawn. “Search the place!” one of them barked, scanning the shadows.

“Marcus, we need to move!” Trask urged, glancing toward the back exit.

“Not without answers,” Marcus insisted, keeping his eyes on the official.

The official smirked, trying to maintain some composure. “You think you can intimidate me? You’re already outnumbered.”

“Outnumbered doesn’t mean outmatched,” Trask shot back, taking a defensive position. “We have to be smart about this.”

“Smart?” the official laughed. “You’re both fools. You have no idea what you’re up against.”

“Then tell us!” Marcus shouted, stepping closer, ready to press him further.

“Enough games!” Trask snapped, his gun aimed at the entrance. “We need to get out of here before they find us!”

“Let me handle this,” Marcus said, determined. “What’s your plan for the bioweapon?”

The official narrowed his eyes. “You really think I’m going to give you my plans? You’re wasting your breath.”

“Then let’s make t

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