Chapter 8 - The Skyward Threat
The deafening roar of the helicopter blades completely drowned out the police sirens wailing in the alley below.
The blinding white searchlight pinned us aggressively against the rooftop gravel, making it impossible to see the aircraft clearly.
Marcus shielded his eyes and frantically yelled that this was definitely not a standard police or FBI rescue chopper.
A heavily armed man leaned out of the open side door of the helicopter, holding a sophisticated sniper rifle.
He fired a precise warning shot that shattered the concrete ledge just inches away from Julian's trembling foot.
A harsh, digitally altered voice boomed through an external loudspeaker mounted on the underside of the dark aircraft.
The voice announced that the syndicate had come to personally collect the massive debt my parents had left behind.
The syndicate boss stated that they did not care about the police arrests or the dramatic family betrayal.
They demanded that I immediately transfer the millions from my trust fund to spare our lives.
I realized with absolute horror that my parents' arrest had not neutralized the actual, dangerous criminal threat.
Marcus pulled his jacket tightly around himself, fighting against the freezing wind generated by the massive helicopter blades.
He yelled back at the hovering aircraft, boldly declaring that the money was legally protected by international banking laws.
The sniper in the helicopter fired a second shot, this time intentionally grazing Marcus's left shoulder.
Marcus collapsed onto the wet gravel with a painful grunt, clutching his bleeding arm as dark crimson stained his shirt.
I screamed his name, crawling desperately across the rough rooftop to press my hands against his bleeding wound.
Julian bravely stood up, raising his stolen tactical rifle and aiming it directly at the blinding searchlight.
He fired a rapid burst of automatic gunfire, hoping to shatter the glass and disable the terrifying, hovering threat.
The heavy bullets sparked uselessly against the military-grade, bulletproof armor plating of the advanced syndicate helicopter.
The altered voice laughed cruelly through the loudspeaker, mocking Julian's pathetic, futile attempt at resistance.
The syndicate boss gave me exactly sixty seconds to authorize the biometric transfer on my secure cell phone.
He promised that if the timer expired, his sniper would systematically execute Marcus, then Julian, and finally me.
I frantically pulled my encrypted phone from my pocket, my fingers shaking violently as I opened the banking application.
I pressed my thumb against the biometric scanner, fully prepared to surrender my entire fortune to save the men protecting me.
May you like
But instead of confirming the transfer, the screen flashed a bright red error message indicating a complete system override.
Someone else had just hacked into my highly secure account and completely drained every single penny.
