The well-trained team members snapped into combat mode, lowering their bodies and bringing their weapons up.
Leah sidestepped behind a massive chunk of concrete debris near the tunnel entrance, her pistol already chambered.
Carver dropped the bundle of blankets he had been carrying. His muzzle stayed low, but his finger was already resting against the handguard.
Merle cursed under his breath, quickly crouched behind a crate, and drew his pistol with his left hand.
In the woods, shadowy figures began to appear.
There were about twenty of them, men and women alike, all ragged, gaunt, and wrapped in whatever worn-out cold-weather clothing they could find.
Their weapons were a mismatched assortment: hunting rifles, machetes, and even spears made from sharpened rebar tied to poles. They were clearly survivors struggling to stay alive.
They stopped roughly thirty meters from the supply pile, forming a loose semicircle.
The man in front looked around forty. He wore a filthy parka, his face marked by frostbite, his eyes sharp but exhausted.
He raised one hand, signaling the people behind him to stop.
"Easy, friends," the man said, his voice hoarse. He tried to sound friendly, but the tension in his body gave him away. "We don't mean any harm. My name is Marcus. We've been operating around Norris."
Leah did not fully step out from cover. She only answered coldly, "This is a private operation zone. State your business, Marcus."
Her voice carried clearly through the wind and snow.
Marcus licked his cracked lips. His gaze drifted uncontrollably toward the supply pile, especially the boxes marked "Emergency Biscuits."
"We... we knew about this warehouse. Old Cold War stuff. We always treated it as... well, as a backup resource point. We just couldn't get it open before."
He was trying to make it sound reasonable.
"Ha!" Merle let out a mocking laugh from behind the crate, not loud, but thick with sarcasm. "Backup resource point? That's a pretty way to put it.
You mean you couldn't open the damn door yourselves, and now that we've done all the hard work, you want to stroll over and help yourselves? World don't work like that!"
Embarrassment flickered across Marcus's face, but he forced it down. "Listen, friends, surviving out here isn't easy.
We only need a little. Just a little. For the sake of us all still being alive..."
"These supplies are claimed," Leah cut him off, her tone leaving no room for negotiation. "We found them. We opened the door. They belong to Rock Fortress now.
If you need help, leave a way to contact you. Maybe we can trade fairly in the future. But right now, you leave."
"Leave?" a tall young man in his early twenties shouted from behind Marcus.
"You're emptying the whole warehouse! With that much stuff, we're only asking for some biscuits! Just a little! My sister's starving to death!"
His voice cracked with desperation as he pointed at a box beside the supply pile, one that had split open after being knocked around during transport, exposing the oil-paper-wrapped biscuits inside.
Those gray, unappetizing biscuits that Merle had no interest in now carried a deadly pull for Marcus's group.
"Leo! Shut up!" Marcus growled, but it was already too late.
Leo's emotions ignited like powder. He suddenly rushed forward several steps, eyes locked on the open box of biscuits.
"Give them to me!" he screamed, throwing himself toward it without caring about anything else.
The situation spun out of control in an instant.
"Stop him!" Marcus shouted in shock and anger, and the crowd behind him broke into a stir.
Almost the moment Leo moved, another figure moved faster.
Carver burst in from the flank.
He did not use his gun. Just as Leo's hand was about to touch the biscuits, Carver caught him with a precise, brutal takedown. His right hand clamped around Leo's wrist and twisted hard, while his left foot swept in with perfect timing.
"Ah!" Leo cried out in pain. A powerful force slammed him to the ground, his face hitting the cold slush hard. In an instant, he was pinned and unable to move.
Carver's knee drove into the center of his back, and his gun muzzle was already pressed to the back of Leo's head. The whole thing happened in the blink of an eye.
"Don't move!"
"Let him go!"
Both sides erupted at once, shouting in anger as every weapon came up and aimed at the other side.
On Rock Fortress's side, the team members were experienced. Using cover, they formed an interlocking crossfire.
The reflection from Jenson's sniper scope flashed briefly somewhere in the woods.
Marcus's people had messy weapons, but they had numbers. They were starving, freezing survivors, and now they were united in anger. The tension was ready to snap.
"Nobody move!" Leah stepped fully out from behind cover. Her pistol was not aimed at anyone, but her cold gaze swept across Marcus and the restless crowd behind him.
"Carver, just keep him restrained. Don't kill him."
Carver grunted and pressed his knee down harder, forcing a muffled groan from Leo as he tried to struggle.
Cold sweat beaded on Marcus's forehead. He raised both hands high and shouted at his own people, "Calm down! All of you, calm the fuck down! Lower your guns a little!"
He could tell the people across from them were well-equipped and well-trained. If a fight really broke out, his ragtag group would not come out ahead.
"You see, Marcus," Leah said, her voice easing slightly, "we showed restraint. Otherwise, he'd already be dead.
But that doesn't mean we'll tolerate this forever. This is your final warning. Take your people and leave."
Marcus looked at Leo, pinned hard to the ground with fear and pain all over his face. Then he looked back at the hungry, desperate faces behind him, and finally at Leah's unwavering eyes.
He knew she was telling the truth.
They had run into something they could not push through.
In those few short minutes, any chance of trust had completely shattered.
Marcus swallowed with difficulty, his voice dry. "...We're leaving."
He looked at Carver. "Could you... let him go?"
Leah gave a slight nod.
Carver released him and stood, but his gun remained pointed in Marcus's direction.
Leo scrambled up in a mess and stumbled back to his group, his face full of humiliation and lingering fear.
Marcus looked deeply at Leah, then waved his hand in defeat. With his silent, disappointed group of survivors, he slowly retreated into the woods filled with wind and snow.
At the tunnel entrance, the tension did not fade right away.
The team members remained on alert, weapons still raised, fingers resting against cold trigger guards.
"They're still watching," Jenson's calm voice came through the radio. He must have found a better sniper position.
"Jenson, report their position and movements," Leah said quietly.
"Scattered about fifty meters behind the tree line, using trees and rocks for cover. No sign they're falling back any farther.
The leader is talking to his people. Emotions look high."
Jenson's reply was as concise and precise as ever.