Chapter 18 – Fire calls its owner

Commander, the unit is wiped out. It was an ambush. Three hostiles – Ulrich and two fighters.
Cerberus does not raise his voice. Who survived?
No one. Seventh was wounded by the explosion. First, Second, Fourth and Sixth were killed by Ulrich’s men while trying to reach him.
Do we have the recording?
Yes. Sending it now.
Contact Fifth and Ninth. Pull them off assignment. Everyone returns to base. I’ll be there shortly.
Understood.

Cerberus sets the phone down and slowly rises from the table in his apartment. Without haste he walks to the wardrobe, straps two fresh fuel tanks onto his back and checks the valves with a practiced movement. Satisfied, he takes two heavy bags and heads outside.

The night air is cold. He loads everything into his Jeep Wrangler Black Hawk, closes the rear hatch and slides behind the wheel. The engine starts with a low mechanical growl, and a moment later the vehicle rolls onto the empty road leading toward the base.

After midnight the forest grows silent again.

Gobby is the first to reach the rendezvous point – a forest clearing with a military tent half hidden between the trees. Without hurry he walks to a bucket of water and washes the blood from his face and hands, watching the red dissolve into pale streaks on the ground. Then he strips off the soaked clothes and remains in MMA leggings, a tight shirt and his shoes, faint steam still rising from his skin. Inside the tent he takes a chocolate bar and a bottle of soda, sits on the ground and exhales slowly. He opens the bottle, takes five long gulps, then unwraps the chocolate and begins to eat.

So, how do you feel? Deda asks from somewhere inside his mind.
You know, in movies and anime when someone kills people they feel something – relief, fear, excitement, Gobby answers calmly. When we merge and kill, I feel only freedom and power. I like that feeling. Right now I just want to eat.
Ah, you little glutton, Deda chuckles. I’m glad you’re not carrying anything poisonous inside you. If that changes, you tell me.

A moment later German and Ulrich step into the clearing. Ulrich studies them briefly and nods with quiet approval. I’m proud of you. You’ve passed your baptism by fire. And you didn’t defeat street bandits – those were mercenaries, men who have taken many lives simply for money. German listens with a serious, almost grown expression. Gobby watches him and cannot understand where the boy who used to run after him has gone. But as soon as Ulrich finishes speaking, German turns toward him, the serious face collapsing into something simple and familiar as he suddenly throws his arms around Gobby.

That was so damn terrifying. You were unbelievable. Your transformation… you’re on a completely different level. With you, we can do anything. Gobby realizes he was wrong – the boy never disappeared. He places one hand behind German’s head and wraps the other around his back. Believe me, you surprised me more than I surprised you. You were brave. And thanks to your planning everything went smoothly.

Ulrich interrupts the moment without raising his voice. Enough relaxing. Nothing is finished. German – report. German straightens slightly. I ran the analysis. We need to eliminate the entire group immediately. Soldiers are trained to retreat, assess the situation, regroup and only then launch a counterattack. If we let them reorganize, they’ll regain strength. While Ulrich delivered his message, I placed a tracker on their vehicle. Ulrich nods once. Then we move out. And you will need to enter optimal readiness again. Gobby raises his hand slightly. Can I ask something? – Of course. – Can we stop at McDonald’s on the way and get me a set with two Big Tasty burgers? I feel like I’ve lost shape.

Somewhere deep in Gobby’s consciousness Deda bursts out laughing. Gobby rises to his feet, and only then do Ulrich and German fully understand what he meant. His body is stripped down to muscle and tendon with no trace of fat, veins pulsing beneath the skin while heat rolls off him in visible waves. The places that endured transformation during the battle are darker now – brownish red, altered tissue. And for the future, Gobby adds calmly, we should think about suits. Mine definitely won’t survive a couple more transformations.

Later they are already driving in a Citroën Berlingo – Ulrich and German in the front seats, Gobby in the back. Gobby finishes his second burger, sauce smeared across his face. You’ve grown up, but you’re still just as clumsy, Deda sighs inside his mind. Leave me alone. I’m just hungry. – Now I understand why McDonald’s should be banned for children. – Why? Gobby asks with his mouth full of fries. So they don’t turn into doughnuts like you.

As the food settles, the tension slowly fades from his body. The hard lines of muscle soften, veins sink back beneath the skin and the heat disappears. Gobby returns to his usual form. He pinches the small fold of fat on his stomach and smirks slightly. There should be plenty of a good man. You used to say that yourself when I was a kid.

They stop three hundred meters from Cerberus’s base and cut the engine. Through the trees the hangar sits low and silent, a dark block of metal half hidden in the forest. Ulrich turns slightly in his seat, his voice calm and controlled. Briefing. By my count there are four inside – Cerberus, one soldier and two hackers. We won’t get in unnoticed, so we won’t pretend otherwise. Our task is to break their formation. The obvious split would be Gobby on the soldier and German on the hackers, but we won’t do that. They’re all trained contractors. Sending you alone against two would be reckless.

He opens a map on the tablet and taps the layout with his finger. We go in together. German, you move to the second floor – training rooms and the armory. I’ll go for Cerberus. Most likely he’ll come to me himself. Gobby, you escort German to the stairs, then move to the command center where their video surveillance runs through. If you feel doubt or take an injury, withdraw immediately and signal retreat.

German keeps watching the hangar through the windshield. May I suggest something? Ulrich nods slightly. Go ahead. German does not look away from the building. My instinct says we shouldn’t step onto their territory at all, especially not split up. Let’s smoke them out.

Half an hour later the Citroën Berlingo returns to the same spot. German fills several bottles with gasoline and pushes strips of cloth into the necks until they sit tight. Ulrich moves along the hangar wall with a jerrycan, splashing fuel across metal and concrete, leaving dark streaks that slowly spread along the surface. Gobby watches them work for a moment and then turns to German. What do you need me to do?

German goes quiet. Nearly two minutes pass while he runs through the situation, eyes fixed on the building and its angles. Finally he speaks. Can you get onto the roof of the hangar and then get inside? Gobby pauses, turning inward for a moment as if consulting Deda. His body stills briefly, then he nods. I’ll try. I have an idea.

German nods once. Good. The moment I start throwing Molotov cocktails, you call the fire brigade and the ambulances. Then you get inside. Your job is to see which of the two exits they choose and break their formation before they can organize. He looks directly at Gobby. Can you handle that? Four men sit at the table – Cerberus, Fifth, Eighth and Ninth – when the alarm suddenly cuts through the room. Eighth and Ninth immediately roll their chairs to the consoles and pull up the live feeds. On the main entrance camera Ulrich stands alone before the doors. He lifts one hand in a slow wave, flicks a lighter with the other and drops it onto the fuel at his feet. Fire surges upward along the metal skin of the building. Another feed shows the boy outside, hurling Molotov cocktails against the hangar walls, glass shattering as petrol spreads and flames begin to crawl across the structure. Cerberus watches the screens without blinking.

Eighth. Report. We’re under attack. The base is burning. A wide smile slowly spreads across Cerberus’s face. They’re using my own weapon against me. They know exactly how to please me. How many? Two visible – Ulrich and the boy who killed First. Where’s the third? Unknown. Possibly outside camera coverage. He’s not inside. Motion and pressure sensors would have registered him.

At the same time Gobby is already climbing the outer corner of the hangar. His fingers split into hooked claws that bite into the metal as he hauls himself upward in short, controlled pulls. A moment later the camera feeds abruptly go black and Eighth leans closer to the console. Visual lost. Sensors offline. They burned the transformer. Emergency power will engage in two minutes. Cerberus inhales slowly, excitement spreading through him instead of fear. Let’s not wait. I’m already burning inside. The men respond instantly. Cerberus pulls on a firefighter’s suit and seals it tight at the wrists and throat while the others strap on body armor and snap gas masks into place.

Cerberus mounts fresh fuel tanks onto his back and lifts the flamethrower, checking the trigger pressure with a practiced motion as the soldier shoulders an assault rifle and the hackers draw pistols, hooking three grenades each onto their vests. They form up automatically – Cerberus in front, the soldier to his right, the two hackers behind – and move toward the main exit. Cerberus pauses at the door and glances once at the others. Ready? Affirmative. Eighth. Open it.

Cerberus braces the flamethrower against his shoulder, his finger tightening on the trigger. The gates roll open and they burst through in formation, ready to drown everything ahead of them in blue fire. Instead they are hit by blinding strobes and the violent howl of sirens. Fire engines block the entrance. Ambulances idle behind them. Red and blue lights explode across their masks. Ulrich and German are nowhere in sight. The lights blind them. Sirens hammer into their skulls and wipe out every other sound.

At that same moment Gobby drops silently from the side of the structure behind them. He lands without a sound, crosses the distance to the two hackers in three quick steps and seizes both of them by their body armor, ripping them backward with brutal force. Their balance breaks instantly. As he moves past the control panel he slams the gate mechanism shut and the heavy doors crash closed behind them. In the same motion he launches at the first hacker like a dog off the leash, driving his arm beneath the man’s jaw while the other hand grips the harness. His hips twist violently and the spine tears free with a wet crack, bone ripping through flesh before the body even understands it is dead.

The second hacker spins, pistol rising, but Gobby’s hand closes around his wrist and tears the arm straight from the shoulder. Blood and tendon burst outward. The man screams and reaches for the grenade clipped to his vest with his remaining hand, yanking the pin. Gobby grabs him by the vest, flips the body forward and throws it away before leaping clear. The grenade detonates inside the hangar, metal screaming as the pressure wave slams through the structure.

Cerberus doesn’t even turn his head. Shoot.
At who?
Everyone. Fifth opens fire immediately, controlled bursts tearing through the firefighters’ reflective jackets. Cerberus sweeps the flamethrower in a wide arc and blue flame erupts across vehicles and men alike. Firefighters ignite where they stand, protective gear melting as medics scatter in panic.

Sirens dissolve into screams while order collapses into chaos. Advance to the vehicle. Cover my back. They begin pushing forward through smoke, flame and foam.

Suddenly a powerful stream of fire-suppression foam crashes into Cerberus from the side, coating him from head to toe and smothering the flames. Ulrich stands on the platform of a fire engine, gripping the hose with both hands and directing the torrent straight at him. Fifth. Eliminate him.

Fifth turns, raising the rifle toward Ulrich. He never fires. His body freezes in mid-aim as a steel awl suddenly protrudes from his temple, driven clean through the skull. His knees collapse and his full weight crashes forward into Cerberus, almost knocking him off his feet. German appears from behind a vehicle on the left at the exact moment the body falls. He had crossed the distance unseen, leapt onto Fifth’s back and driven the awl through his head in a single downward strike. The corpse slams into Cerberus and nearly knocks him off balance.

Cerberus staggers through smoke and flashing lights, turning blindly in the confusion. In that instant he sees a metal pipe rushing straight toward his face. The impact is blunt and precise. Darkness swallows him before he reaches the ground.

Darkness thins slowly. Cerberus returns to consciousness the way a body rises through cold water – heavy, reluctant. Pain arrives first in his skull from the blow, then in his shoulders and wrists. When he tries to move he feels the pull immediately. His arms are bound above him, his feet barely touching the concrete floor. The air is damp and stale. No sirens, no fire, no noise of battle. Only a single harsh light somewhere behind the man standing in front of him.

Ulrich.

Cerberus lowers his chin and tests the restraints again. Metal bites into his skin. Only then does he notice that he is naked. No armor, no mask, no fuel tanks. No control. Ulrich approaches without a word. In his hand is one of Vann’s darts. He drives it into Cerberus’s torso and leaves it buried there before stepping back. The sting is brief, followed by the rapid chemical surge spreading through Cerberus’s bloodstream. Adrenaline.

Ulrich turns, picks up the flamethrower, adjusts the grip of his fireproof gloves and raises the nozzle toward him. Cerberus understands the situation completely. There is no bargaining here, no escape, no delayed revenge. Only the process. Beneath that realization something darker rises – a familiar anticipation. A sick recognition of what is about to come. He exhales through his teeth. Go on. What are you waiting for?

Ulrich squeezes the trigger. The first stream ignites below Cerberus’s feet. At first there is only heat, then pain begins to lock into place as the fire climbs. Ulrich does not rush it. The flame rises slowly, forcing the burn to travel upward through the body. The soles blister first, then the calves, then the thighs as the air fills with the smell of burning flesh.

For a brief moment Cerberus almost smiles. Then the expression collapses into raw pain. The adrenaline keeps his mind sharp, keeps his body conscious inside the damage. When the flame reaches his abdomen the muscles seize violently and his breath shatters. The scream tears free and echoes through the concrete basement. An ordinary man would already be dead from shock, but the drug forces his heart to keep racing, forces the brain to remain awake while the body fails.

The fire continues its slow climb. Skin splits. Fat melts. Muscle blackens. When the flame finally reaches his groin, the brain can no longer hold the signal together. His eyes lose focus, the scream cuts off and the body slackens in the restraints.

Ulrich still does not stop. He opens the flow fully and floods what remains of the body in fire, finishing the work quickly now. Only when there is no reaction left does he release the trigger. The flamethrower falls to the floor with a dull metallic sound. Ulrich turns without another glance and walks toward the staircase, his steps echoing upward while the basement fills with the heavy smell of ash and fuel.ard, leaving the basement to the smell of ash and fuel.