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Chapter 1: Dead Men Don't Breathe
The jungle was a coffin.
Hot, wet, and crawling with death. Kai Straven moved like a ghost beneath the thick canopy, rifle tucked close, boots silent in the muck. Two weeks ago, he had a squad. Brothers. Now, he had blood on his hands, a price on his head, and a map to a truth no one wanted found.
His earpiece crackled with static-no signal. Not here. Not in the dead zone between warlords and whispers, where satellites died and screams got swallowed by leaves.
He crouched by a tree, fingers brushing the side of his vest. The intel chip. Still there. Still worth killing for.
"Eyes up, soldier," he muttered to himself.
Something shifted.
A breath. Not his.
Kai spun, rifle raised-too late.
The figure was already there, silhouetted against the fog. Masked. Armed. Silent.
"Straven," the voice rasped. "They said you were dead."
"I am," Kai said-and fired.
The shot lit the gloom like lightning. The body dropped. Kai didn't wait to confirm the kill. He turned, running deeper into hell, heart pounding. Every second bought him a breath. Every breath brought him closer to the truth.
He didn't know who he could trust.
He just knew who he had to kill.