Chapter 10 – The Brussels Reckoning
⚔️ Brussels, Belgium – Omega High Command Citadel, 02:11 CET
Snow fell softly across the spired rooftops of Brussels. Floodlights illuminated Omega’s towering fortress – a steel and glass monolith rising above the old city like an alien citadel.
Inside its command chamber, Rahmani sat calmly sipping Arabic coffee, confident behind metre-thick blast walls, EMP shielding, and private security battalions.
His Belgian operations chief approached nervously.
“Sir, satellite confirms Na Fianna Nua chopper landing in France. Should we intercept?”
Rahmani smiled thinly, tapping the steel table with manicured fingers.
“No. They will never reach Brussels alive.”
🦅 He Was Wrong
In the dark forests of northern France, Salty’s team assembled silently. The frozen ground crunched beneath tactical boots as final checks were made.
✅ Ye Olde Large Lad, hammer slung over his shoulder, loading belt after belt into his M249.
✅ Funji, spinning his tanto blades with silent grace.
✅ Squallshy, cleaning his .50 Barrett with religious reverence.
✅ WhizzAir, fingers dancing across drone controllers, eyes bloodshot with focus.
✅ Winky, softly singing Irish folk songs while priming semtex bricks.
✅ Susan, strapping her final breaching charge to her back with a grin.
✅ Sarah, calm determination in her blue eyes as she locked and loaded her AR-15.
Salty adjusted his chest rig, checked his H&K 416 one final time, and growled:
“Tonight ends Rahmani’s empire. Stay tight, stay lethal. We bring Ireland’s wrath to Brussels.”
🚁 The Infiltration
Their blacked-out Sikorsky swooped low over the sleeping city, hugging treetop height. At the Omega fortress perimeter, WhizzAir’s drones neutralised external thermal sensors in seconds.
“Drones blind,” he whispered.
Funji sliced a hole in the perimeter fence with silent diamond-edged cutters. Ye Olde Large Lad squeezed through, flattening razor wire under his boots like grass.
💥 The Assault
They moved like phantoms through the outer compound, eliminating guards with suppressed double-taps and silent blade kills.
At the inner vault door, Ye Olde Large Lad planted his sledgehammer against the steel.
“Boss… this one’s gonna ring their bells.”
CRAAAAANG!
The door buckled inward with a metallic scream. Sirens wailed instantly as Omega shock troops stormed the corridor, miniguns spinning.
Squallshy’s voice crackled calm in comms.
“Three left. Two right. Goodbye.”
Each .50 round smashed through steel plating and skulls alike. Blood sprayed walls as the team charged forward in disciplined diamond formation.
🗡️ Funji’s Fury
Funji darted ahead, twin MP5Ks flashing muzzle fire in deadly precision. When his mags ran dry, he holstered them in one fluid motion and drew his tanto blades, slashing throats and severing tendons with surgical grace.
💣 Winky’s Big Bang
At the central power core, Winky planted a final semtex charge, humming softly.
“Goodnight, Rahmani,” he whispered, kissing the detonator.
🦅 The Final Confrontation
They breached the command chamber. Rahmani sat calmly at his steel desk, dozens of screens flickering with operational data. He smiled faintly at Salty, unafraid.
“Ah. The Irish savage arrives at last.”
Salty raised his H&K, eyes cold as winter.
“Your empire ends tonight, Rahmani. Surrender.”
Rahmani chuckled softly. “And if I refuse?”
Ye Olde Large Lad stepped forward, hammer slung low.
“Then we make ya,” he growled.
Rahmani shrugged, reaching for a hidden wrist detonator – but Funji’s tanto blade pinned his hand to the desk in a blink, making him scream in shock.
💀 The End of Omega
Salty leaned in close, voice low and lethal.
“This is for every child trafficked. Every family torn apart. Every Irish village you polluted. Burn in hell, scumbag.”
With a nod to Sarah, he stepped back. She pulled the trigger. Rahmani’s head snapped back, his blood painting the glass behind him.
🔥 Extraction
Outside, explosions rippled through the Omega fortress as Winky’s charges detonated. Fireballs lit the Brussels skyline as Na Fianna Nua sprinted to their exfil chopper, rotor blades whipping snow and smoke into blinding vortices.
🦅 Epilogue – Dawn Over Ireland
Back in Dublin, the team stood together atop the old GPO roof as dawn rose. Exhausted, bruised, but unbroken.
Ye Olde Large Lad sat cross-legged, cleaning his hammer with an old rag. WhizzAir slept curled up on a pelican case. Funji meditated silently beside him. Squallshy cleaned his sniper barrel with reverence. Winky snored gently, a semtex brick cradled like a teddy bear.
Sarah rested her head against Salty’s shoulder, sighing softly.
“It’s over… for now.”
Salty gazed east towards the sea, the rising sun glinting in his tired eyes.
“Aye. Until the next fight.”
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