Black Society

The sounds of vehicles echoed through the dimly lit road as two mini vans drove by, followed by two motorbikes expertly navigated by Six and Seven. Upon reaching the designated ambush locations, the team swiftly assumed their predetermined positions.

Nine ascended to the rooftop of the Nine-story building, surveying the surroundings with keen eyes. Meanwhile, Two and Three seamlessly blended into the left wing of the road, securing a concealed vantage point. Four and Five mirrored their actions on the right wing, disappearing from sight.

One and Eight strategically parked the getaway van a few meters away from the ambush zone. Six and Seven maneuvered their motorbikes into dimly lit corners, rendering them virtually invisible.

Ten, Eleven, Twelve, and Thirteen converged upon their assigned hiding area, adhering to the meticulously crafted plan.

One's voice crackled through the communication earpieces as he sat inside the mini van, eyes fixed on the multiple screens displaying the situation.

"Is everyone in position?"

The team members, scattered across various locations, responded in affirmatory tones, their voices steady and reassuring. Satisfied with the confirmations, One glanced at his watch, the luminous dial reading 11:49 p.m.

"Everyone, remain on high alert. The target will arrive shortly," One cautioned. "Nine, notify us the instant the target enters your scope."

Nine maintained her position, scanning the surroundings below through her sniper scope. She responded affirmatively to One, "Okay, boss."

Four, hidden with Five on the right wing of the road, checked his watch, the glowing digits reading 12:01 p.m. "Boss, are you certain the target will arrive via this route?" he asked.

One's displeased expression accompanied his stern response, "Stay low and wait."

Just then, Nine's calm and professional tone cut through the comms, "Target confirmed. ETA 2 minutes, 23 seconds."

The team's demeanor shifted instantly, their faces set with seriousness and focus.

One's stern tone matched the gravity of the situation, "Nine, what's the escort detail?"

Nine's vigilant gaze remained fixed on the target as she replied, "Six armored escort vehicles, three at the front and three at the back. I estimate four security escorts per vehicle, totaling 24."

One's expression turned weary yet resolute.

"Our calculations have been surpassed, and they've added armored security escorts to the mix," One declared, his firm and commanding tone leaving no room for doubt.

"But we've anticipated this scenario. Everyone, prepare for action. Six, Seven, stand by."

Six and Seven exchanged reassuring smiles, their faces set with determination, as they prepared putting on face masks to conceal their identity for the impending operation.

Nine's voice crackled through the comms, her eyes fixed intently on the target through her sniper scope. "Target approaching ambush location. ETA 5 seconds."

As the target arrived at the ambush location, One's expression transformed into a calm yet grave mask. His voice dropped to a low, even tone, exuding an air of calculated composure.

"Six, Seven. It's time."

Instantly, two motorbikes, expertly ridden by Six and Seven, burst out from the corner, swooping behind the armored convoy. Accelerating swiftly, they fanned out, flanking the caravan on both sides.

The personnel inside the armored security escorts grew uneasy as two motorcycles, ridden by Six and Seven, approached from either side. The riders' suspicious behavior didn't go unnoticed, and the escorts' instincts screamed that something was amiss. Before they could react, Six and Seven sprang into action. With swift precision, they produced grenades and hurled them beneath the armored vehicles. In an instant, the motorbikes sped away at breakneck speed, leaving the escorts stunned and bewildered by the sudden turn of events.

Loud, earth-shaking explosions erupted from beneath the vehicles, sending flames and debris soaring. The armored convoy was now enveloped in chaos.

The armored convoy screeched to a halt, crippled by the explosion. One and Eight swiftly seized the opportunity, maneuvering the mini vans to block the convoy's escape route. They parked vertically in front of the lead vehicle, trapping it.

One and Eight leapt out of the mini van, instantly unleashing a hail of gunfire on the remaining security personnel who had survived the grenade blast. A fierce exchange of gunfire erupted between the security team and One, the sound of bullets ricocheting through the air.

Soon after Two ,Three ,Four and Five who were in ambush came out ,engaging the enemy in a surprise attack ,which caught them completely off guard.

Nine, stationed on the rooftop of the eleven-story building, had been watching the unfolding scene while providing ranged support to her teammates. She shifted her sniper scope to the tires of the armored van and pulled the trigger. The loud report of the van's tire bursting echoed through the air, serving as the signal for the next phase of the operation.

Ten, Eleven, Twelve, and Thirteen - also known as Williams - sprang into action. They swiftly converged on the crippled armored van, carrying thermite explosives. Ten and Eleven quickly neutralized the driver in the front seat, securing control of the vehicle.

Williams, tasked with placing the thermite explosives on the armored van, stood frozen in fear, shivering uncontrollably. The explosions, gunfire, and lifeless bodies surrounding him had left him barely able to compose himself. Twelve kept watch, but Williams' paralysis was evident.

Just then, Eleven, having neutralized the driver with Ten's help, appeared behind the van, ready to provide support. However, upon witnessing Williams' debilitating fear, Eleven's expression darkened. He seized Williams by the collar, yanking him up, his icy gaze freezing Williams in place.

"Snap out of it, kid!" Eleven growled, his voice low and menacing.

"Pull yourself together, or we'll all be screwed. Don't forget whose plan this is."

Eleven's loud, ferocious tone jolted Williams out of his trance-like state. Williams quickly regained his composure and approached the armored van's doors, carefully placing the thermite explosives. He immediately covered his ears and stepped back to a safe distance, anticipating the blast.

Moments later, the sound of the explosion reverberated through the air. Eleven and Williams, expecting the armored doors to be blown open, were instead met with a shocking sight. The thermite explosives had failed to breach the van's defenses, leaving only faint burn marks and minor indentations on the heavy armor doors.

Here's the edited version:

The unexpected turn of events caught them off guard, particularly Williams, who hadn't anticipated the armored van's door withstanding the thermite explosives. Eleven swiftly reacted, reporting the situation to One, who was engaged in a fierce gunfight with the escort guards.

"Boss, we've got a problem," Eleven's voice crackled over the comms, laced with a sense of urgency.

"The armored van's doors are more durable than we initially thought."

Despite being caught off guard, by the unexpected situation, One responded with unwavering confidence and seriousness.

"It's alright," he said firmly.

"If one thermite can't blow it off, then ten will. Continue with the plan until those doors are blasted open."

Just as One finished speaking, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and answered the call. But before he could even utter a greeting, the caller on the other end lashed out.

"You dumbass, what have you done?"

One was taken aback by the caller's infuriated tone.

"What's the issue?" he asked calmly.

"We're in the middle of the operation."

The caller, clearly unsatisfied with One's response, let out a disgruntled sigh before responding.

"Ah, you know what? I'll tell you what the issue is. It's none of my business anyway," the caller said sarcastically.

"As we speak, a group of special force soldiers are heading your way from several locations. I don't know what you guys did wrong, but you've clearly triggered something."

One's eyes widened in panic as he tried to clarify the situation, but the caller hung up abruptly, cutting him off. Stunned, One stood frozen, his gaze fixed on his phone's screen, which glared back at him with the stark confirmation that the call had ended.

The distant sounds of gunfire and explosions, once a cacophony of chaos, receded into the background as his mind reeled with the ominous implications of the caller's words.

He felt like he'd been punched in the gut, his breath caught in his throat. One's hands shook as he tried to call back, but the caller's number was now unreachable. Blocked. A sense of desperation crept in, his mind racing with questions. What had gone wrong? How did the special forces find them? And this bastard...

One's face twisted in fury as he slammed the phone to the ground, shattering it into pieces. His anger boiled over, and he began pummeling the mini van with his fists, leaving small dents in the metal and minor injuries on his knuckles, from which tiny droplets of blood seeped out.

Eight, who had been watching in shock, couldn't fathom what the mysterious caller had said to provoke such a violent outburst from One.

"Boss, are you okay?" Eight asked, his voice laced with concern. But one remained silent, his gaze fixed on some unseen point.

As he approached One, trying to get his attention, Eight's hand instinctively reached out to place a calming touch on his shoulder. But before he could make contact, One's head snapped towards him, his eyes blazing with a deadly intensity that sent shivers down Eight's spine.

Eight's hand recoiled in fear as he took a step back, his voice trembling.

"Boss, calm down, it's me."

One slowly came back to his senses, realizing that he had lost control of his emotions. He looked down, covering his face with one hand in frustration. As he paused, he narrowed his eyes slightly to the side, noticing the eerie silence that had fallen over the area. The gunfire had ceased, and an unsettling stillness had taken its place.