The Setai Headquarters was a fortress.

  Bright LED screens filled the war room, data fshing across them in real-time.

  The low hum of machinery underscored the sharp voices of analysts feeding reports across multiple channels.

  At the center of it all—Samberg.

  His fingers pressed against the table, gaze locked on the single fshing marker dispyed on the digital map.

  It wasn’t just a return signal.

  It was them.

  The Musabori infiltration team.

  They had reappeared.

  ?

  Footsteps.

  An advisor approached.

  “Commander Samberg.”

  He didn’t look up.

  “Report.”

  The advisor straightened.

  “We’ve confirmed it. The team has resurfaced.”

  A beat.

  Then—Samberg exhaled slowly.

  “Finally.”

  His fingers tapped the surface of the console.

  “Have you prepared everything?”

  The advisor nodded once.

  “Yes, Commander. Everything is in pce.”

  A pause.

  Samberg’s gaze flickered.

  A shadow of something—understanding.

  Then, in a motion that mirrored a man long before him,

  he straightened.

  His next words came calm.

  Absolute.

  “Call a super chopper.”

  “We’re headed out.”

  ?CUT TO BLACK.