Chapter 3 - Fire and Data
"Get behind the server rack!" Hayes roared as the first gunshot shattered the quiet night.
A bullet sparked against the metal doorframe, whining past my ear like an angry hornet. I dove onto the dusty concrete floor, scrambling behind the massive, humming server.
Hayes returned fire, the booming report of his weapon deafening in the confined space. Two men in tactical gear were advancing across the asphalt, using a black SUV for cover.
"The scanner, Elias!" Hayes yelled over the gunfire, tossing the rectangular device onto the floor beside me.
I picked up the medical lancet. My hands were shaking so violently I dropped it twice. Outside, automatic weapons began to chew through the thin metal walls of the storage unit. Dust and fiberglass insulation rained down on us.
Click. Pause. Click. Pause. The relay switch on the server kept its agonizing rhythm.
I jammed the lancet into my thumb. A bead of dark crimson welled up. I pressed my thumb firmly against the glass face of the scanner.
The device beeped. A green progress bar appeared on the screen, linking via Bluetooth to the server.
AUTHENTICATING VANCE GENOTYPE... 20%...
"Hurry up!" Hayes shouted, dropping an empty magazine and slamming a fresh one into his pistol. "I've got three more flanking left!"
45%... 70%...
Suddenly, the firing stopped. An eerie silence fell over the compound.
"Hayes," a booming voice called out from the dark. "Throw out the drive, and we let the boy live."
Hayes looked at me. His left shoulder was bleeding darkly, soaking through his trench coat. He gave me a grim smile. "Almost there, kid."
99%... 100%. DECRYPTION COMPLETE. UPLOADING.
The server rack let out a high-pitched whine, and the red light turned a brilliant, blinding blue.
"It's done!" I yelled.
"Then we run!" Hayes grabbed my collar. He pulled a silver canister from his belt and hurled it out the open door. A blinding flash of light and a concussive boom rocked the asphalt—a flashbang.
"Go, go, go!"
May you like
We bolted out of the unit, diving through the thick, acrid smoke. Bullets chewed the pavement behind us, but the blinding light had ruined the mercenaries' aim. We threw ourselves into Hayes' unmarked sedan. He keyed the ignition, threw it into reverse, and slammed the accelerator, smashing blindly through the chain-link fence and onto Highway 11.
"The data is in the hands of the FBI, the CIA, and Interpol," Hayes panted, clutching his bleeding shoulder. "The Volkov empire just burned to the ground. Now, we go get your family."
