"Becky, Becky? Fuck! Damn it, you dumb blonde, where the hell did you go…?"
Owen roared in frustration, nearly throwing his walkie-talkie. The situation outside was getting more dire—Jim and Wright had already switched to using their handguns, and the guards could break in at any moment.
But just then, a weak voice came through his earpiece.
"I'm… I'm Becky. I'm here. Dumb blonde? Is that the idiot nickname that bastard gave me?"
Owen's heart leapt with joy.
"Haha, Becky! Thank God, you're finally here! Get us out of here, and you can do whatever you want afterward. We're trapped outside the tunnel, find us a way out, quick!"
He quickly explained their current situation to Becky.
"No problem, hold on a moment…"
Becky pulled up the 3D maps of both the tunnel and the mansion. After some quick adjustments, she overlaid the two, revealing the exact path of the hidden tunnel.
"Alright, I found it. If Alex wasn't lying, the tunnel runs right under the fourth room along the corridor, dead center."
"OK."
Owen's spirits soared. Becky's information was like a shot of adrenaline, instantly reigniting their morale.
Sam immediately commanded, "Owen, escort Hotshot to clear the way. Everyone else, retreat gradually!"
"Got it!"
"Rangers lead the way!"
Owen charged down the corridor, reaching the fourth room in no time. He kicked the door open.
It was a dining room. Without hesitation, Owen began shoving tables and chairs aside, exposing the floor beneath.
He stomped twice on one side, then twice at the center. Hotshot listened carefully, then nodded.
"This is it. The passage is right below."
To be honest, Owen couldn't hear any difference in the floor, but Hotshot was the expert—if he said it was there, then it was.
Hotshot set his backpack down and started pulling out explosives. He had brought various types in case of emergencies, and now he needed to mix them accordingly.
Owen cut to the chase. "What do you need me to do?"
Hotshot glanced at the floor while prepping the explosives. "A one-meter diameter circle, at least six blast points."
"OK."
While Hotshot prepared the charges, Owen used his gun to drill holes in the floor. He had trained with Hotshot for a few days and understood the basics of demolition.
He knew exactly where each blast point needed to be and how deep the holes had to go.
Lacking proper tools, he had no choice but to rely on his firearm.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
The floor was soon riddled with bullet holes. By the time Owen finished drilling all six points, Hotshot had almost completed the explosives.
Gunfire outside intensified. As they retreated further, the guards finally breached the mansion.
The confined space gave Sam's team an advantage. Despite their numbers, the guards could only enter in limited waves due to spatial constraints.
Owen ran out to help buy time while Hotshot set up the charges. His spare magazines had already been distributed, and he had used up even more rounds drilling the holes. Now, his rifle had only a few bullets left—after a couple of shots, it clicked empty.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Sam and Monica emptied their last magazines. They were the last two holding SCAR-H rifles. Tossing them aside, they drew their handguns and kept firing.
"Take cover!"
Hotshot shouted as he dashed out of the room. Everyone hit the ground.
Boom!
Debris flew everywhere as a shockwave burst out of the room, kicking up thick clouds of dust.
Hotshot had gauged the explosives precisely. A hole appeared in the floor, revealing the tunnel, but the passage itself remained intact.
"Retreat! Owen, get your people in first. Rangers will cover the rear!"
Sam gave the order, and Owen didn't waste a second—he was the first to jump into the tunnel.
One by one, the others followed. Owen had ASH and Heartbeat take point, while he and Hotshot stayed near the entrance to cover the rear.
"Bryan, Jim—"
The gunfire above weakened, and moments later, Bryan and Jim jumped down. Owen helped them up and pushed them forward.
"Move!"
Wright and Sam followed, and at last, everyone had made it into the tunnel.
"Go!"
Owen shouted, running alongside the group. Hotshot followed while sticking explosives onto the tunnel's support beams.
"Run!"
They sprinted faster.
Boom!
A grenade exploded above, shaking the tunnel.
The enclosed space amplified the shockwave, making their insides churn, but they gritted their teeth and kept running.
"Hurry! I only set the timer for 20 seconds!"
Hotshot's yell sent everyone bolting at full speed. Up ahead, Heartbeat spotted the exit they had entered from earlier.
Above, Becky was already waiting. As Heartbeat climbed up, she grabbed his collar and pulled with all her might.
ASH followed, then Bryan, Jim, Sam, Wright, Owen, and finally Hotshot.
Their pace quickened—each time someone climbed out, another pair of hands reached down to help the next person up. The last few barely needed to climb; they were practically yanked out by sheer force.
Hotshot was the last to ascend. Just as he pulled himself up, gunfire erupted in the tunnel below.
The enemy had finally followed them down.
But just as Hotshot rolled onto solid ground—
Boom!
A muffled explosion roared from below.
The tunnel shook violently, and then—
Gone.
"Ugh! Cough, cough…!"
Dust filled the room. The blast wave had knocked everyone to the ground. They coughed and groaned, struggling to their feet.
Their faces were completely covered in soot, looking like a bunch of dirty monkeys. But as they grinned, their white teeth stood out against their blackened faces.
A few minutes later, the ragtag group staggered out of the house and jumped into a small truck they had prepared in advance.
Sam took the wheel, skillfully weaving through the crowded streets of Cali.
Before long, they had left the city. The landscape on either side grew increasingly barren.
Sam had only briefly mentioned their escape route—it involved heading to the coast, taking a boat out to sea, and then catching a ferry back to the U.S.
Inside the truck, everyone glanced at each other. Covered in dust and grime, they looked like a group of refugees—and they burst into laughter.
The mission had been a success.
Though filled with twists and turns and moments of extreme danger, almost no one had been seriously injured. Even Monica, who had been a hostage, seemed unharmed.
Spirits were high. It was a long drive, but they had stocked up on food and drinks beforehand. Wright rummaged through their supplies and began feasting.
The guy had even packed liquor—strong vodka, no less.
Fresh off a life-or-death escape, the team was still buzzing with adrenaline. They each took a hearty swig. Becky, however, was nearly choked by the burning alcohol.
The truck drove for several more hours until they finally reached the coast by late afternoon.
They got out, following Sam to a secluded beach.
Sam pulled back a tarp, revealing a speedboat.
It wasn't big, but it would fit them all.
The engine roared to life, and they sped out to sea, cutting through the water.
Guided by GPS, Sam piloted the boat to a designated location.
After about an hour, a large ship appeared in the distance.
An American merchant vessel.
The sight of the flag made everyone's heart leap with joy.
At last—they were going home.
_________________________________________
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