On the rooftop, Xavier stood near his helicopter, his sharp eyes scanning the compound below. The night sky was thick with smoke, gunfire echoing from the battle raging outside. Victor's men were pushing forward. It was only a matter of time before they broke through. He cursed inwardly as Victor wasn't buried under that explosion as he planned.
He turned to his pilot. "Stay ready."
"Yes, sir." The pilot's hands hovered over the controls, ready for instant takeoff.
But Xavier wasn't leaving yet. The best games always had a final act.
"Bring the boy," he ordered into his radio.
Moments later, Miguel was dragged onto the helipad. His small wrists were cuffed, his face streaked with dirt, but his eyes blazed with anger despite his situation. Children were funny beings.
"Can you hear it?
