Three days later, at a secret Black-Ops facility on the British coast, Kabelo "Shadow" Ndlovu stood in a glass-walled observation room overlooking a gray interrogation chamber. Below, Damian Wolfe sat shackled to a steel table, his once-dapper white suit now prison orange. Two armed guards flanked the room. Wolfe's face was bruised from the rough extraction and sour with defeat.
Commander Raines joined Kabelo at the one-way window. "MI6 and the CIA will be taking turns with him," Raines said quietly. "So far he hasn't said much we don't already know. Lots of bluster. But give it time."
Kabelo nodded. He felt a muted satisfaction seeing Wolfe here, alive but neutralized. There was no telling how many lives might be saved by preventing the arms dealer from ever peddling Prometheus tech again.
Raines clapped a hand on Shadow's shoulder. "You and your team did outstanding work, Shadow. The world won't know it, but you likely stopped a catastrophe."
Shadow offered a small smile. Praise wasn't why he did this, but it was good to hear. "Thank you, sir."
Raines continued, "We've begun analyzing the materials you recovered. The briefcase contained a trove of data – project notes, buyer lists, technical specs. It's enough to keep intelligence agencies busy for months. And it confirms what we suspected: multiple nations have started their own versions of Prometheus."
Kabelo's jaw tightened. Of course it couldn't be completely over. "Who are we talking about?"
Raines pulled out a tablet and brought up a list of codenames and flags. "China has something called Project Azure Dragon, Russia's working on Initiative Perun, even the Americans have flirted with a Project Athena before the oversight committees shut it down – officially, anyway. Smaller programs, private and rogue, dot the globe too."
Shadow sighed. The fire Prometheus lit had indeed spread like wildfire. "So we've cut off one head and found a dozen more," he murmured.
"That's about the size of it," Raines said. "But the advantage is, now we have intel – thanks to you all. We can get ahead of these. Governments are waking up to the danger. The ones on our side, at least, are quietly cooperating to quash these projects before they reach deployment."
Below, Wolfe suddenly looked up toward the mirror, as if sensing he was being discussed. He smirked defiantly at his own reflection. Kabelo met his gaze through the glass, unflinching. Wolfe might never fully appreciate the team that took him down, but that hardly mattered.
Raines turned to face Kabelo directly. "I want you to know, Shadow, that the task force's success is largely due to you. Your unique…abilities, yes, but also your leadership in the field. The way you coordinated with your team. It's exemplary. You've come a long way since we first pulled you in on this."
Kabelo thought back to months ago – operating mostly alone, driven by vengeance for what Prometheus had done to him and his community. He'd been mistrustful, reluctant. Now he had found a family of sorts in this unit.
"I had good people beside me," Kabelo replied. "We'd never have done it without each other."
As if on cue, the door opened and his teammates filed in, fresh from their own debriefings. Naledi's arm was out of the sling it had briefly been in after a strain in the final battle; she looked rested and at ease in civilian clothes. Pierce came next, sporting a bandage on his forehead from a minor concussion when the ship exploded, but grinning as usual. Reed followed, walking with only a slight limp from the graze on his leg, a cane forgotten back in medical—stubborn as ever. He carried a folder of reports under one arm.
"Ah, speaking of good people," Raines said warmly.
Naledi flashed a smile. "Commander."
Raines addressed them all. "I was just telling Shadow—phenomenal work. All of you. You struck a major blow against the proliferation of this tech."
Pierce chuckled. "We aim to please. And to blow things up, when necessary."
Raines arched an eyebrow at him. "Try not to enjoy it too much, Lieutenant Pierce. But truly—take pride. You saved lives, even if they'll never know it."
Reed crossed his arms, glancing down at Wolfe below. "What's going to happen with him?"
"We'll squeeze Wolfe for every bit of intel we can," Raines said. "After that… he'll disappear into a deep, dark hole for the rest of his days. He's far too dangerous and well-connected to ever release or even publicize."
Wolfe was scowling now, clearly unhappy at being left out of the conversation he couldn't hear. Naledi regarded the imprisoned man coolly. "No mercy for the merciless," she said, echoing something she'd said once before on another continent about another warlord.
Raines nodded approvingly. "He'll get his due process in some secret court, I'm sure, but the result is a foregone conclusion."
There was a grim satisfaction in that for the team. Justice, albeit in the shadows.
Raines placed his tablet aside. "Now, on to brighter notes. After reviewing the mission logs and results, I've recommended accommodations for each of you. And some much-needed R&R."
Pierce fist-pumped. "Hear that? Holiday time. I'm thinking somewhere with no gunfire and plenty of sun."
Naledi laughed softly. "God yes. Something that isn't from a vacuum-sealed pack."
Reed smirked wryly, "I suppose I could be convinced. One drink."
"One?" Pierce scoffed. "We just saved the world from super-weapon chaos. I think we deserve at least two drinks each."
Shadow rolled his eyes in amusement. "Let's start with one and see how it goes."
They left the observation room and walked down the corridor together. Through a window, late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the base's lawn. A peaceful day, far removed from the battle at sea days before.
"Feels almost strange, doesn't it?" Naledi mused aloud.
"What does?" Kabelo asked.
"Not being in crisis mode. Not being shot at," she clarified with a light laugh. "Sometimes it's like I forget how to relax."
Reed gave a knowing grunt. "Occupational hazard. Give it a day or two and you'll remember."
Pierce walked backwards a few paces in front of them, grinning as he held an imaginary microphone. "Breaking news: Team of elite operatives unsure how to cope with leisure time, sources say they resort to camaraderie and alcohol in response."
They all laughed. In that moment of levity, Shadow took stock of each of them – the irreverent hacker, the steadfast medic, the enigmatic ex-spy – and of himself. What a journey it had been to get here.
They reached the rec room that doubled as a canteen. It was empty at this hour. Pierce beelined to the small bar in the corner and rummaged, coming up with a bottle of aged whisky and several glasses. "Ah, the good stuff Commander Raines hides for VIPs. Well, today that's us."
He poured generously.
Naledi took a glass and raised it. "To us. And to those we saved."
They held up their glasses, forming a small circle.
"To those we lost as well," Shadow added solemnly, thinking of casualties along the way and victims of Prometheus whose lives they couldn't save.
They clinked. The whisky burned warmly, easing lingering tensions.
After a moment of quiet savoring, Pierce cleared his throat. "So, Shadow. Any plans for downtime? I bet people back home in Botswana or wherever might be wondering what you've been up to."
Kabelo smiled thoughtfully. "I'll be checking in with family, for sure. And I wouldn't mind a few nights sleeping under open skies instead of in barracks."
Naledi's eyes lit up. "That sounds lovely. I might actually go home to Johannesburg for a bit, see my sister. Remind myself why we fight, you know?"
Reed offered a rare personal reveal. "I have some old friends in London I plan to visit. Quietly. Make sure they know I'm still around."
Pierce raised his glass again. "Wherever we all go, let's be sure to meet back here in one piece. The world's not done needing us."
Kabelo tapped his glass to Pierce's. "Count on it."
They spent the next hour sharing stories (the humorous ones now, with safe distance – Pierce reenacting his panicked swim when the ship first rocked, Naledi recounting how Shadow looked tackling the giant merc "like a mongoose on a snake"), and decompressing as comrades.
Eventually, they parted to find some well-earned rest. Naledi waved as she headed out to call her family. Pierce declared his intent to locate a proper steak in town. Reed left with a folder of documents – even off-duty, his mind seemed to crave puzzles to solve.
As the sun dipped low, Kabelo wandered outside the facility to a small overlook by the cliffs. The sea breeze caressed his face. Out on the horizon, the ocean glistened.
He thought of everything that had transpired – the dangers they faced, the victories won, the narrow escapes. His own journey from being a lone vigilante to part of something larger and more meaningful. Shadow closed his eyes, offering a silent thanks for making it through.
Opening them, he saw the first evening star twinkle into view in the dusky sky. For a man who spent so much time in darkness, he felt surprisingly at peace in the light right now.
His phone buzzed – a secure message from Commander Raines: "Possible lead on Azure Dragon. Nothing for a few weeks. Stay ready." Kabelo smirked. No rest for the wicked, or for those who hunted them.
Footsteps approached. It was Reed, who had returned and now stood a few paces behind, also gazing at the sea.
"Beautiful evening," Reed remarked.
Shadow nodded. "Indeed."
A comfortable silence fell. Though Reed was often reserved, Shadow had grown to trust the man's insights and calm under pressure.
Reed broke the silence, his tone unusually earnest. "It's been an honor working with you, Kabelo."
Kabelo turned in mild surprise at the use of his first name – Reed rarely dropped call signs. "Likewise, Reed."
The older man offered a hand, and Kabelo shook it firmly. In Reed's eyes glinted respect…and something else unreadable.
"We did good," Shadow said.
Reed released his hand and looked back to the horizon. "Yes. We did."
Once back in his quarters, Reed locked the door and powered on a secure field laptop. From his pocket he withdrew a tiny data drive—one he had discreetly duplicated from Wolfe's briefcase before turning it in. His eyes narrowed as he slotted it into the computer. Lines of encrypted code danced across the screen. Reed typed a quick message over a quantum-secure channel:
"Project Prometheus primary data secured. Phase 2 ready."
He hit send. A moment later, the screen flashed confirmation that the packet had been delivered to an anonymous recipient. Reed exhaled slowly and removed the drive, tucking it back away. His reflection in the dark monitor was unreadable. One last secret in a career built on them.
With that, he shut the laptop and rose, making sure no trace of his communication remained. Whatever came next, he would be prepared. He had his own mission, running parallel to the team's, and he intended to see it through.
Above, the stars were emerging in full. Night was Shadow's realm. He knew it well and did not fear it. Because he and others like him were there to hold back the worst of what lurked in the dark.
With one last glance at the tranquil sea, Kabelo headed inside. Tomorrow they would go their separate ways for a short respite, but soon enough, a new mission would reunite them.
And when that call came, Shadow would be ready. They all would.
After all, there were whispers already spreading in the underworld – of a phantom sniper and his team, striking without warning, dismantling the schemes of war in silence. They had become the very thing their enemies feared: shadows with a purpose, ghosts who guarded the future.
Kabelo "Shadow" Ndlovu walked down the corridor, the echo of his footsteps a steady reminder that even as one chapter closed, another was beginning. In the shadows, he'd found his calling – and in the light of a new day, he and his team would answer it, time and again, for as long as it took.