Quarantine Zone: The Nameless

World War III never broke out. Nuclear weapons stayed locked in their silos, and stock markets opened as usual. The great powers maintained a fragile peace: fighting a conventional war cost too much, so warfare was outsourced.

Tarkov was surrounded by regular troops and sealed off like an iron barrel. Only two kinds of people remained in the city: PMCs who sold their lives for money, and scavengers who survived by picking over corpses. Outside the blockade were diplomatic notes; inside it, shell casings and rats.

Carmona, a forbidden zone on the Caucasus border, was labeled a “biological contamination area.” The operators sent inside knew the truth: there was no truth here, only contracts. Today’s teammate could be tomorrow’s target.

Asala, a desert war zone where the Hafk Corporation claimed “security management rights.” G.T.I. was ordered to eliminate this military giant, which commanded AI swarms and enhanced soldiers. If it could establish a foothold here, it could do so anywhere.

Three war zones, one rule: chaos had to be kept at just the right level. Too much, and resources stopped flowing. Too little, and who would buy the weapons? People outside turned the dial while those inside crawled through the mud, thinking they were carrying out missions when they were really just pieces on a chessboard.

There were no heroes and no saviors. Only the people in the bunkers and the people in the watchtowers. Sometimes they were the same person.

A hard-edged military novel based on the worlds of Escape from Tarkov, Arena Breakout: Infinite, and Delta Force. No protagonist's plot armor, just an ordinary squad struggling, making choices, and meeting their end in the gray zone.