The mining village consisted of long cement houses under a web of power lines. Alberto approached with caution, using the red dot sight on his pistol to scour a way forward.

The eerie silence. He heard nothing, no sound of running water or heating furnaces behind those window panes. He took cover in an alley and kept looking. The town was just empty.

"What do you think, Aesop?"

His fully developed AI partner appeared on his mobile device. "No heat signature detected behind those walls. They are not occupied. Suggest proceeding to the village square."

"If you say so, boss." Alberto pulled out a holographic map, also from his device. He spun it around like a tangible object and plotted a path. "Keep monitoring my vitals. Bagram wants them in real-time."

"If I may ask, sir, what exactly do you wish to gain by coming here? To rescue Miss Sosa? Or to get even with John Burke?"

"Both," said Alberto, while sneaking to another alley. He tactically cleared his corners, remembering the training the Five Eyes had given him.

"Would you like to hear a fable about revenge?" asked Aesop.

"No."

"A quarrel had arisen between the horse and the stag. The horse came to a hunter to ask his help for revenge, in exchange for being saddled and bridled. The moral of the fable is that revenge is too dearly purchased at the price of liberty."

"Thanks. Really useful."

"I fear the Five Eyes will possess your soul," remarked Aesop. "They already paid for half of your body."

"It's worth the risk," said Alberto. "If I don't follow this path, there will never be closure. The thing you need to know about us humans is that we always head back to the fire."

"Like the fable about the King's Son and the Painted Lion?"

"Yes, sort of. But don't tell it now."

He trod deeper into the village and found the square. And there they were, followers of John Burke. They had gathered around a stone masonry platform, and for some reason, appeared to be petrified and lacking life.

Baffled, Alberto decided to get closer. He made soft, careful footsteps while wondering if any of that mattered. Turned out, they did not. By the time his view materially improved, he found the answer to his burning question.

They were in a coma. The followers of John Burke could not speak, had fixed stares, and were constantly drooling. Rubber cables were pierced into the back of their heads and connected to mobile devices held tightly in their hands.

Mouth agape, Alberto reeled in disbelief. The sacrifice John Burke had mentioned, this was it.