The last stand

Opening Scene: The Hunt Begins The wind slithered through the ruins of the French village, carrying the thick stench of fire, blood, and something far worse—the sensation of being watched. Smoke curled from the remains of a collapsed house, the distant crackle of dying embers the only sound breaking the unnatural silence. Colonel James Logan crouched low behind a broken cart, his pistol raised, his breath slow and controlled. He wasn’t alone. He could feel it. Then he saw it. A body. An American soldier, slumped against a shattered stone wall, his rifle lying useless in the mud beside him. The corpse’s lifeless eyes were frozen wide, mouth slightly open, as if caught mid-scream. Logan’s gut twisted—not from the death itself, but from the message carved into the man’s bare chest. "I SEE YOU, LOGAN." The letters were jagged, cut deep, the blood now dried into dark rivulets across pale skin. The soldier’s dog tags had been ripped away, his helmet missing, his body deliberately posed upright—as if watching. A warning. A taunt. Logan scanned the surrounding ruins, every shadow now a possible threat. He had faced death more times than he could count, but this was different. This wasn’t war. This was a hunt. And the Jackal was out there. Watching. Waiting. And closing in.