Page 59 of Honor Code

Ellie yanked on her clothes and shoes, then huddled against the wall, out of sight. Her wide eyes tracked Phoenix as he risked a glance out the window. Two armed shadows glided across the clearing.

He waited but didn’t see any more. Only two men to take out an ex-soldier and a scientist. Their mistake.

The ruthless game plan was obvious—perforate the cabin, then storm in guns blazing to eliminate any survivors. He knew, because that’s what he’d do. It was fast, aggressive, and if done with an element of surprise, very effective.

Except he’d seen them and knew what they were up to.

"What do we do?" Ellie breathed, voice tight with fear.

"We need an exit route."

"You barricaded us in! There's no way out," she said, an edge of panic creeping in.

"The rug. Check under it." He gestured tensely. Ellie scrambled over and flipped back the worn rug, releasing a soft gasp.

"A trapdoor!"

“Yeah. That’s how we’ll get out.”

She heaved at the wooden door. “It’s stuck.”

Phoenix lunged over and wrenched it open with a prolonged creak. He froze, listening hard for any reaction outside.

Poking his head down, he nodded. “It’s all clear. You go first.”

She shimmied through the rectangular hole and lowered herself onto the ground below. He followed, lowering the trap door behind him, just as a hail of gunfire erupted overhead, splintering the cabin walls.

"Make for the trees!" Phoenix whispered. "Don't look back!"

She wriggled out from under the cabin then sprinted for the tree line. Within seconds, she’d disappeared into the foliage.

Gritting his teeth, Phoenix veered in the opposite direction, blending into the undergrowth flanking the cabin. There was only one way to handle these guys, and that was to take them out.

He crept through the brush, ignoring the whip of the low-lying branches, until he was parallel to his target. The shotgun’s blast would be too loud, and he didn't want to alert the other mercenary, so he drew his hunting knife instead.

Silently, he crept up behind the stocky shooter. The man had the build of a fighter, his military vest bristling with spare magazines. No doubt about it—these were hired killers.

The merc's rifle fire masked Phoenix's approach, but then, sensing rather than hearing Phoenix’s presence, the shooter spun around.

Too late.

Phoenix’s blade was quick and deadly. He clamped a hand over the man's mouth, muffling his scream as the knife severed his jugular. The rifle clattered away as the body slumped to the ground.

In the sudden silence, he knew it was only a matter of time before the guy's partner came to investigate. Phoenix grabbed the corpse by the ankles and dragged it into the dense underbrush, concealing it beneath a mound of leaves and branches. It wouldn't fool them for long. But every second counted.

Next, he retrieved the fallen merc's AK-47. Now armed with the rifle, shotgun and knife, the odds were tipping in his favor.

Phoenix turned his focus to the second mercenary. Ducking low, he moved silently through the trees and shrubs, circling to the other side of the clearing.

The second shooter had quit firing now. Phoenix studied him from behind the trees. He was taller than the other guy, with pale hair that gleamed in the moonlight. Not great for undercover work—too noticeable.

“Conrad?” the blond mercenary called. He had an accent that Phoenix couldn’t place.

Hearing no answer, he advanced cautiously into the clearing, scanning for threats with obvious skill. This guy was no amateur.

The merc halted at the bullet-riddled cabin and peered through a shattered window. "Where are you?"

Phoenix sighted down the AK-47, finger poised on the trigger, waiting until the man stepped away from the cabin.

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