The film starts with the Navy SEALs

Crisis looms large: The life-or-death predicament and desperate counterattack at the dock

Novin and Sergei, like hunters lurking in the shadows, silently approached the pile of rocks. An invisible film of tension seemed to hang in the air; every breeze carried a subtle unease, as if foreshadowing impending change. Each with a grave expression, they swiftly drew their binoculars, their movements practiced yet cautious. They slowly raised them, letting their eyes, through the cold lenses, lock onto the seemingly calm yet subtly treacherous dock across the water, like the sharp eyes of an eagle.

"Check the left side." Noven deliberately lowered his voice to a very low hue, trying to keep his breathing steady, but his tone still unconsciously revealed a hint of barely perceptible caution. His gaze was like two precise scalpels, carefully scanning the left side inch by inch, not missing any subtle detail that might harbor danger. Even the faintest change in light or the slightest movement of an object could not escape his keen eyes.

“Check the right side,” Sergei responded in a similarly soft voice, so low it was almost inaudible, like a gentle autumn breeze rustling through dry grass. He then focused all his attention on the right, his eyes fixed intently on the scene. Every movement of the dockworkers, every guard's position and expression was meticulously observed, as he tried to glean any unusual clues from these seemingly ordinary moments.

"By the way, you were really cocky just now. It wasn't your place to speak here." Norwen said half-jokingly, echoing Sergei's slightly impetuous tone from before, though his words still faintly revealed the lingering effects of what had just happened on him. He was trying to ease the slightly awkward atmosphere between them with this teasing, while also hoping to alleviate the painful waves of memory stirring within him.

"Dockworkers and security guards spotted, no enemies found." Sergei reported his observations to Noven methodically, while continuing to observe intently. Then, he turned slightly closer to Noven and lowered his voice, saying, "I wasn't being reckless just now." A hint of helplessness and urgency flashed in his eyes, as if he was eager to explain to Noven that his earlier outburst was not without reason.

“I didn’t say you were being reckless, but it really hurts.” Noven said, slowly raising his binoculars again, his gaze fixed on the slightly dilapidated prefabricated houses on the distant dock. “There’s an office area behind it. It’s very obvious, but not difficult to deal with.” His voice was steady and calm. Although there was a hint of fatigue, one could still feel his accurate analysis and judgment of the situation. In this tense atmosphere, he was like a lighthouse as steady as Mount Tai.

“I’ll just say one thing: the boss was wrong. The boss should have used this batch of weapons to lure Zayev out.” Sergei stubbornly persisted in his idea, his eyes revealing an almost obstinate determination. “If I can’t kill Zayev, I won’t be able to escape Mike’s shadow. I just can’t stop reliving the scene over and over again. If we had driven faster, if we had acted more quickly, if…” His voice gradually lowered, as if drowned in endless self-blame and regret. Each “if only” was like a heavy hammer, striking his heart hard, causing him unbearable pain.

"Shut up, stop talking." Noven interrupted Sergei impatiently, his expression instantly turning pained and regretful. His voice involuntarily rose a few decibels as he shouted, "It was me who let him go in pursuit alone, and now I'm still listening to your nonsense. You're the main B1 member now." A complex mix of pain and anger flashed in Noven's eyes. Clearly, Sergei's words had touched upon the deepest wounds he didn't want to talk about—a self-blame and guilt that he could never erase, like a deep scar branded on his soul, causing excruciating pain with the slightest touch.

Sergei was reprimanded, and only then did he realize the deep hurt his words had caused Noven. Filled with guilt and remorse, his lips trembled slightly, and he hesitated, unsure what to say to atone for his mistake. After a moment of silence, he quickly composed himself, trying to refocus on his work, and changed the subject, saying, "No enemy detected, confirmed?" His tone became serious and earnest, his eyes fixed on Noven, as if seeking confirmation from Noven's gaze to ascertain whether their current situation was truly as calm as it appeared.

Noven remained silent, his expression complex, as if he were completely enveloped by painful memories, unable to extricate himself. His eyes revealed a deep struggle and anguish, as if he were waging a difficult battle against the demons within. After a long while, he slowly, as if using all his strength, said, "Confirmed." His voice carried a deep weariness and helplessness—a helplessness in the face of an unchangeable past, and a weary response to the current tense situation. It was as if he were carrying a thousand-pound burden, each word exhausting all his energy.

Sergei said nothing more, but slowly raised his right hand, clenched it into a fist, and extended it towards Noven. His eyes held a hint of expectation and sincerity for reconciliation, signifying that the two should put aside their differences and fight side by side again. Noven paused for less than a second before extending his fist and gently touching it with Sergei's. At that moment, it seemed as if the barrier between them, created by their argument, melted away like snow with that gentle touch, and their tacit understanding and trust were rekindled.

“Let’s go.” With the conflict resolved and the intelligence gathered, Sergei said softly, a hint of relief in his voice. He then rose first and walked back, his steps steady and firm, as if bidding farewell to past conflicts and stepping into new challenges. Noven followed closely behind, their figures gradually disappearing into the rubble, as if leaving a deep imprint of their reconciliation in this desolate wasteland. Ahead of them lay an unknown yet challenging mission.

……

A few minutes later.

Colonel Ke Chuan received Sergei's report confirming that no trace of militants had been found at the docks. He acted decisively, a resolute glint in his eyes—the decisiveness and fortitude of a seasoned veteran. He quickly made a decision and led his fully armed men to the docks. They drove a slightly old but sturdy Toyota Prado, slowly entering the docks. The car seemed to leisurely cruise through the intricate network of passageways, but everyone was on high alert, their nerves taut like a bowstring about to snap, conducting a meticulous reconnaissance. Their eyes scanned every corner like sophisticated radar, carefully observing the environment and potential hazards, not overlooking any clue, even the slightest anomaly could be the key to changing the course of the battle. "Beep beep." Sitting in the back seat, Chetri's phone suddenly rang sharply. The crisp ringtone sounded particularly jarring in the quiet, somewhat oppressive car, like a bomb breaking the surface of a calm lake, instantly drawing everyone's attention. Chetri's expression changed slightly. He quickly picked up his phone and checked it. His previously calm face instantly turned serious, as if shrouded in a gloom. Then, he immediately reported to Colonel Kochuan, "Sir, Carmel's phone is active. He received a text message asking you to make a call." His voice carried a hint of tension, and his eyes were fixed on Colonel Kochuan, awaiting his instructions as if he were awaiting a fateful judgment.

"Make me make a call?" Colonel Korchen frowned slightly, a hint of doubt and wariness flashing in his deep eyes. He turned around, his movements steady yet tinged with urgency, took the phone, glanced at the text message carefully, and dialed without hesitation. The call connected quickly, and a woman's deep, cold voice came from the other end: "Alexander Korchen, this is Ariana Damach. Let me introduce myself..."

“No need.” Colonel Ke Chuan interrupted Ariana before she could finish speaking. His tone was icy cold, as if carrying the eternal chill of the Arctic. He seemed uninterested in the woman who introduced herself, or rather, he had an instinctive resistance to the impending trouble. His mind instantly went on high alert.

“You are British, and my late husband didn’t like British people.” Ariana’s voice was eerily calm, like a stagnant pool without any ripples, yet it carried a chilling aura. It was as if she were telling an old friend about something mundane, but the hostility in her words was as sharp as a blade, each word like a hidden dagger, ready to stab the enemy at any moment.

"That's a real shame, it's his loss." Colonel Ke Chuan replied calmly, his eyes revealing a complex mix of vigilance and composure, trying to discern the other's true intentions from his calm words. It was like groping for unknown dangers in the dark; every subtle change in tone did not escape his ears, and every hidden meaning was repeatedly analyzed in his mind.

"Marrying Eden was not my wish; it was all for the sake of the family. I never imagined that our fake relationship would turn into a real one. Do you know our customs, Zachmarie?" Ariana continued, her voice carrying a hint of sadness, as if recalling a painful and helpless past. Yet, her words also concealed an indescribable resolve—a determination to do anything for her family and her lover.

"A family feud? I know." Colonel Ke Chuan replied succinctly, his mind racing with information about the family, the complex grudges and entanglements playing out before his eyes like a movie. He knew that this conversation was not just a simple venting, but the prelude to an impending storm, a life-or-death struggle about to begin.

“We cannot shirk our responsibility; we must avenge the dead. You also lost a sergeant; I'm sure you understand. I just want to tell you that this is all your own fault.” Ariana finished speaking and hung up the phone without waiting for Colonel Kochuan's response. The dial tone struck Colonel Kochuan's heart like a hammer blow. Hearing the monotonous and jarring sound, a strong unease suddenly welled up within him, a chill running down his spine. A sinister sense of conspiracy loomed heavy over him like a dark cloud. He acutely realized that the situation had taken a sharp turn for the worse, becoming extremely critical, as if they had stepped into a carefully laid trap, with danger closing in on them step by step.

"We have to leave immediately. Back up, back up, hurry!" Colonel Ke Chuan ordered loudly, his voice urgent and loud, full of urgency, like a bugle call for an emergency retreat. Every word seemed to carry a flame, igniting the already tense atmosphere in the car and making everyone feel the severity of the situation.

Upon hearing Colonel Kochuan's urgent order, Sergei, the driver, felt a sudden tightening in his chest and sensed something was wrong. Without hesitation, he slammed on the brakes as fast as he could. The car screeched as it raced through the tunnel, the tires rubbing violently against the pavement, as if announcing the impending danger. The piercing sound echoed in everyone's ears like an alarm bell. He then quickly began to reverse, the car reversing rapidly through the tunnel like a frightened beast, its body trembling slightly from the excessive speed, as if also fearing the impending peril. However, despite the speed, it was already too late.

As they reversed their car to the exit of the passage, a massive black truck, like a ferocious beast, drove aggressively from the exit and firmly blocked the entrance. The passage was instantly sealed off completely, leaving no gaps, like an insurmountable black barrier that utterly cut off their escape route. The enormous truck, like the shadow of death, loomed over them, filling them with an unprecedented sense of despair.

"Damn it." Sergei couldn't help but curse. Fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force, his eyes filled with anger and helplessness. He didn't want the car to crash into the big truck, so he slammed on the brakes. The car came to an abrupt stop, and the enormous inertia propelled the people inside forward as if trying to break free of the cage that was about to close.

"Hurry, hurry forward!" Noven realized they had fallen into a carefully laid trap, and he was frantic, shouting anxiously. His voice was hoarse with worry, and his eyes revealed a desperate resolve, trying to find a glimmer of hope in this desperate situation. He knew there was no turning back; they had to fight with all their might. (End of Chapter)