James didn't waste time with pleasantries. He handed Mac a tablet showing a secure facility in the desert. "A group known as the 'Company' has stolen a high-yield explosive. They’re planning to use it on a civilian target in Lagos. I’m going in, but I need the best technician I know."

Hours later, safely back at the Phoenix base, James stood by the window, watching the sunset. He turned to Mac, who was cleaning the grease from his fingernails. "You didn't follow the protocol," James remarked.

"They're already on the ground, but they're pinned down. If you don't come, they don't make it out."

Armed mercenaries were closing in. Mac looked around the derelict space. No weapons. No backup. Just a pile of discarded chemical drums, some copper wiring, and a handful of cleaning supplies.