The dim glow of a lantern flickered against the wooden walls of Carlos’s home, casting long shadows over the circle of people gathered inside. Solomon sat cross-legged, leaning against the wall, his injured body still recovering. Jamie sat close to him, silent but attentive, her fingers absently running over a loose thread on her sleeve. Across from them, Carlos’s family—his wife Maria, his elderly but sharp-eyed father, his mother, and his six-year-old daughter—listened intently. Only Carlos’s infant son remained blissfully unaware of the gravity of the conversation, sleeping soundly in Maria’s arms.

Carlos took a deep breath, his usual boisterous nature momentarily subdued as he prepared to lay out his plan. He had always been a man of action, but tonight, words were just as important as the battles to come. His survival, his family’s survival, and the fate of the village depended on what they decided here.

“We all know what kind of man General Esteban is,” Carlos began, his voice firm but hushed. “The day he returns will be the day I die. You all know this. He will see my actions as nothing but betrayal. And it won’t stop with me—he’ll come after you, after Maria, after my father, after all of us. He will make an example of my family to remind the others that no one can oppose him.”

Maria’s hands tightened protectively around their sleeping son, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“That’s why I won’t wait for him to come back,” Carlos continued, his eyes sweeping over everyone in the room. “We have to take control before he does. If we don’t, we’ll be forced to run, and running through the jungle with his men on our heels is suicide.”

His father exhaled through his nose, nodding slowly. “You’re not wrong, boy. Esteban’s rule is just as ruthless as the corrupt government he fights against. He doesn’t care about us, only about his own power.”

“That’s why I’m asking for all of you to stand with me,” Carlos said, his gaze settling on Solomon. “And with him.”

All eyes turned to Solomon, who had remained silent, listening. His reputation had already spread through Carlos’s family, and even his six-year-old daughter looked at him with the wide-eyed admiration reserved for heroes from fairy tales.

Carlos gestured toward him. “You all know what Solomon is capable of. We’ve all heard the stories, but I’ve seen it with my own eyes. The man took on trained special forces and walked away. He’s fought wars in places we can’t even imagine, and if he stands with us, I believe we can do the impossible. We can take this village from Esteban before he returns and carve out a life for ourselves on our own terms.”

A heavy silence followed his words. The weight of what he was proposing was not lost on anyone in the room.

Solomon finally spoke, his voice hoarse but steady. “It won’t be easy. Even with the element of surprise, Esteban’s men outnumber us. You’ll need more than just courage and numbers—you’ll need a strategy.”

Carlos grinned. “That’s where you come in.”

His father, who had been silent until now, stroked his graying beard thoughtfully. “If we’re going to do this, we need the support of the villagers. Some of them fear Esteban too much to act. Others believe he’s the only reason we aren’t under government control. We need to break that illusion.”

Carlos nodded. “That’s why we’ll start by securing the village’s key locations. The armory, the communications outpost, and the food supplies. Without those, Esteban’s men won’t be able to resist us for long.”

Solomon added, “You’ll also need to cut off any potential reinforcements. If Esteban has men stationed outside the village, we take them out before they can regroup.”

The conversation picked up pace, with Carlos, Solomon, and his father refining the plan. They spoke in hushed but determined voices, mapping out their next steps.

Maria, Jamie, and Carlos’s mother listened, their faces growing increasingly worried. The excitement among the men was palpable, but it was clear that the women in the room saw the dangers just as clearly.

As the discussion grew louder, a small, distressed whimper cut through the air.

Everyone froze.

Carlos’s infant son had stirred awake, his tiny face scrunching up before letting out a sleepy cry.

Maria shot Carlos a pointed look. “That’s enough for tonight,” she said firmly, rocking the baby gently.

Carlos exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right. We should get some rest. But first, we need to talk to the village doctor. He’s an important part of this plan.”

Solomon pushed himself up with some difficulty, Jamie steadying him as he rose. Carlos’s father-in-law, the village doctor, was not only the closest thing to real medical aid they had, but he also held influence in the village. If they were to succeed, they needed his support.

With the weight of what was to come settling on their shoulders, Carlos led Solomon and his father toward the doctor’s house. The night air was cool, but the fire of rebellion had been ignited.

There was no turning back now.

---

Meanwhile, deep in the jungle

Ryan was on the run. But what was chasing him wasn’t human—it was a pack of robotic attack dogs outfitted with high-caliber assault rifles, their mechanical legs pounding against the muddy terrain as they pursued him relentlessly.

Ryan maneuvered his dirt bike through the dense foliage, the roaring engine barely keeping him ahead. The terrain was worsening, thick roots and uneven ground making it difficult for the bike to gain speed.

But the same obstacles also slowed down the robotic hounds, their artificial limbs struggling with the unstable surface.

As Ryan pressed on, the distant sound of rushing water filled his ears. He wasn’t running aimlessly—he had a plan.

Up ahead, anchored to the riverbank, was a motorboat he had prepared in advance for exactly this kind of escape. As the mechanical beasts closed in, their red sensors locking onto him, Ryan didn’t hesitate.

He leaped off the bike, sprinted towards the boat, and jumped in, yanking the engine cord. The boat roared to life, kicking up waves as it sped down the river. The robot dogs skidded to a halt at the edge of the water, their targeting systems trying to lock onto him, but Ryan was already out of their firing range.

He exhaled in relief, gripping the throttle. His plan was working—next stop, the SEALs’ forward camp.