The atmosphere in the fortified command center was thick with tension, a stark contrast to the usual buzz of controlled aggression. Maps and screens glowed on the walls, but all eyes were on the central communications array. The static-filled silence from one particular channel was deafening.
"Vanguard Two, this is Ironblood Actual. Report your status. Over."
Silence.
"Vanguard Two,respond. Over."
More static.
Captain Rourke, a mountain of a man with a shaved head and cybernetic eye implant, slammed a fist onto the metal console, making the techs jump. "Nothing? For six hours? They had a fully armed Raven helicopter and orders for a simple reconnaissance sweep along the eastern highway!"
A nervous lieutenant scrolled through data. "Their last transmission was routine, Captain. No signs of engagement. Then... nothing. The transponder stopped broadcasting. Completely dark."
