Chapter 10: The Final Countdown
The roar of the helicopter’s blades cut through the biting wind as Hawke strapped himself into the seat, his eyes fixed on the horizon. The Antarctic landscape below was a barren, frozen wasteland—endless white plains interrupted only by jagged mountains and the occasional outcropping of rock. His breath misted in front of him, but his focus never wavered.
The coordinates Stanton had provided led them to a remote research facility nestled deep within the icy expanse. It was an isolated location, ideal for a clandestine operation. But the mission at hand was anything but ideal. Hawke had just two hours before the satellite system was fully locked in, rendering any attempt to stop it futile.
He couldn’t afford failure. Not this time.
As the helicopter descended toward the facility’s landing pad, Hawke reviewed the situation one final time in his mind. The satellite, once fully operational, would trigger a cascading failure across every communication network on the planet. It was the perfect tool for creating chaos—economic collapse, government destabilization, and civil unrest, all orchestrated from the shadows. And behind it all, the men and women who had pulled the strings had one thing in common: they wanted war.
Hawke’s fingers twitched against the rifle slung over his shoulder. The fight wasn’t over yet. He still had to confront those responsible. If Bishop and Lena were right—and they probably were—there was a much larger game at play than he had initially realized. A game that reached far beyond just the satellite.
The helicopter came to a violent stop on the ice, and Hawke wasted no time in unbuckling and leaping out of the craft. He barely felt the cold seeping through his gear as he sprinted toward the building ahead, his boots crunching against the frozen earth.
Inside the facility, the walls were cold, metallic, and sterile. The hum of machinery filled the air, the only sound breaking the otherwise deathly quiet atmosphere. But Hawke didn’t need to hear anything else. He knew exactly where he needed to go.
“Stanton,” he muttered into his comm, “Where’s the control room?”
“There’s a server room in the central wing. It’s heavily guarded, but you should be able to disable the satellite access there,” Stanton replied, his voice clipped. “Be careful, Hawke. We don’t know how many people are inside. They’ll be prepared for you.”
Hawke gritted his teeth. He expected as much. Still, he wasn’t about to let that stop him. Every step brought him closer to the enemy, closer to the truth. And this time, there would be no retreat.
He entered the building, silently moving through the dimly lit halls. His mind was sharp—every detail mattered, every sound could be the difference between life and death. Hawke knew the stakes. He was no stranger to this kind of operation, but the weight of this mission felt heavier.
There was something deeply personal about it. It wasn’t just about stopping a cyberattack. It was about confronting a part of his past he thought was long buried—Bishop, the rogue agent who had once been his closest ally, and Lena, a woman whose loyalty had been shattered by betrayal. The shadows they both cast over his life were long and dark. Now, he had no choice but to face them.
The facility was eerily quiet as he crept closer to the server room. Then, he saw them—two guards stationed at the door, their backs turned. Hawke wasted no time. A swift motion, a chokehold, and both men were down before they could react. He moved on, slipping past the now-unlocked door and into the control room beyond.
Inside, a series of screens blinked in front of him, displaying a web of data, satellite feeds, and system protocols. Hawke’s eyes immediately zeroed in on the most important screen: the one showing the satellite’s current status. It was locked in position, its countdown nearing completion.
“Stanton, I’ve got the control room,” Hawke said, his voice low but steady. “I need the override codes.”
The response came quickly, a string of numbers and commands delivered in rapid succession. Hawke entered them into the system, his fingers moving with practiced precision. But just as he was about to trigger the shutdown, an unexpected voice cut through his earpiece.
“You think you can stop this, Hawke?” The voice was familiar—cold, calculated. Bishop.
Hawke’s jaw clenched. “This ends here, Bishop.”
A sinister chuckle echoed from the other end. “You always were predictable. But I’m afraid you’ve already lost. The satellite will be triggered no matter what you do. You’re too late.”
Hawke’s gaze hardened as he looked at the countdown clock. It was ticking down with terrifying speed. Bishop was wrong, though. He wasn’t too late. He wasn’t going to lose.
“Not this time,” Hawke muttered, slamming his hand down on the keyboard.
The screens flickered, the satellite feed briefly cutting out, then coming back online. Hawke’s fingers flew across the keys as he fought to override the system, the countdown still ticking down.
Then, as if time had stretched into eternity, the final command was entered. The satellite’s connection to the global network was severed in an instant. The countdown froze.
For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then, the relief hit like a tidal wave. Hawke had done it. The satellite was offline. The threat was neutralized.
But even as victory surged within him, Hawke knew it wasn’t truly over. The network might have been stopped, but the conspiracy ran deeper than the satellite. It ran through the very veins of the power structures that held the world together.
As Hawke turned to leave the room, his comm crackled again. “You may have stopped the satellite, Hawke,” Bishop’s voice was low, “but there’s more where that came from. Much more.”
Hawke didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. The battle was far from finished, but for the first time in a long while, he felt a glimmer of hope.
The first piece had fallen. And with it, a door had been opened. But the war wasn’t over.
Not yet.
