BEHIND US

XIV

The Fortress in the Fog

Nestled in the snow-covered spine of an unnamed northern ridge stood a house unlike any other—fortified, cold from the outside, but humming with silent energy within.

The Waraha Safehouse.

Lined with motion sensors, thermal cameras, encrypted surveillance, and a hidden underground escape tunnel, it was more than a home—it was a last stand. Only three secured satellite phones were available, untraceable and rotated daily. One for Chris. One for Snack. One strictly for Engfa.

Chris stood by the reinforced window, checking the perimeter scans. “No heat signatures. No movement for the last 36 hours.”

Snack was sprawled across a thick rug, scribbling ideas and names across a large map. “We can’t stay reactive forever. The next strike has to end HOORNE.”

Engfa walked in, wrapped in a thick shawl, holding his secure phone. “It’s time to call them.”

Chris paused. “You mean…”

He nodded. “Chompu. Nudee. Heidi. Marima. Tina. Aoom. Meena. I trust them. They’re not just my friends—they’re family. And they owe HOORNE more pain than even we do.”

He dialed one of the pre-set encrypted codes into the phone. No numbers. Just tones. Within moments, four lights blinked across the interface.

One by one, voices answered.

Chompu: “It’s been a long time, Engfa. You sound cold.”
Heidi: “I’ve been waiting for this call.”
Nudee: “Tell me who to take down and where to land.”
Marima: “I’ve been sharpening blades since the first leak.”
Aoom & Meena: "What's up?"
Tina: "Gonna strike?"

Snack grinned. “Now that’s a welcome committee.”

Engfa’s voice was calm but steady. “This is it. We’re not exposing anymore. We’re dismantling HOORNE. You’re either with us to the end… or you walk now.”

All seven responded at once:
“To the end.”

Chris leaned over the map. “They’re sending supplies. Inside data from old HOORNE insiders. Even a few people who used to work in military contracting.”

Engfa clenched his fist, eyes fierce. “Then let’s finish this. Not just for Somchai. Not just for us. For everyone HOORNE buried.”

Snack smiled. “Let the empire fall.”

.....

Three days after the call, the silence of the snow-covered forest was broken by the faint hum of rotor blades and the crunch of winter tires. One by one, they arrived—each of them a storm in their own right.

First came Chompu and Tina.
Disguised in a heavy military coat and snow goggles, they stepped out of a black unmarked SUV. Their vibe was all business—laptop bag in one hand, a briefcase in the other. Cybersecurity and black-market data mining were their expertise. Their smile was brief, but their hug to Engfa was full of unspoken history.

“Show me what you’ve got,” Tina said, already powering up her custom device. “I’ll show you how deep the HOORNE rabbit hole goes.”

Next was Nudee.

Descending from a quiet, tactical helicopter with twin blades, Nudee wore a navy trench coat over a bulletproof vest. Former intelligence operative turned rogue strategist, she greeted Chris with a nod.

“Perimeter’s tight. Good job, kid. But if we’re going to burn HOORNE, we’ll need more than fire. We’ll need misdirection, noise, pressure points. Let’s make them drown in their own panic.”

Then came Heidi.
She arrived on a snowbike, kicking up slush and ice, long hair braided down her back like a warrior. She brought explosives—literal and metaphorical. Former protest leader. Rebellion ran in her veins.

“Tell me what their weak spots are,” she said, tossing her gloves aside. “I’ll make them regret ever touching Engfa Waraha’s name.”

Finally, Marima, Aoom and Meena.
They came quietly. No vehicle. Just emerged from the trees with a duffel slung over their shoulder, face calm but eyes burning. They’d been off the grid for years, working with underground media and silent resistance movements.

They embraced Engfa for a long time. “It’s time we speak for the ones who can’t anymore.”

---

Inside the Waraha Safehouse, the fire crackled as maps were unfurled, screens lit up, and the war council took shape.

Chompu and Tina hacked into HOORNE’s internal communication feeds.
Nudee set up a false-flag distraction in Bangkok.
Heidi planted intel traps—digital mines.
Marima, Aoom and Meena coordinated with whistleblowers and planned a live data drop with the media.

Snack leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, proud.
Chris looked at the team and smirked. “Let’s give HOORNE one last nightmare.”

Engfa stood at the center of them all—his found family, his real family, his fire.

“Tonight, we rewrite history. And the world will remember exactly who the Warahas are.”

🐶🐰