Chapter 8 - The Surgical Strike
The automated machine gun turrets hummed loudly as their laser sights painted my chest in deadly red light.
I froze completely, knowing that a single sudden movement would trigger a lethal barrage of heavy gunfire.
Arthur laughed weakly from his wheelchair, his pale face glowing under the harsh surgical lights.
He arrogantly gloated that his security system was flawless and that I had foolishly walked directly into my own grave.
Elena was still in the hallway, completely out of the automated turrets' deadly line of sight.
I desperately needed to create a distraction before the automated system officially engaged its firing sequence.
I slowly shifted my gaze to the massive, pressurized oxygen tanks standing right beside Arthur's wheelchair.
I did not hesitate to aim my pistol slightly to the left and pull the heavy trigger.
The bullet pierced the highly pressurized tank, causing a massive, violent explosion of freezing gas and shrapnel.
The blast knocked Arthur out of his wheelchair and completely blinded the automated turrets' optical sensors.
The guns fired wildly into the walls and ceiling, showering the sterile room with chunks of concrete and sparking wires.
I sprinted through the chaotic crossfire, sliding across the blood-stained floor to reach Sarah's medical chair.
I quickly used my hunting knife to slice through the thick leather restraints binding her arms and legs.
She collapsed into my arms, incredibly weak from the massive amount of blood they had already extracted.
I ripped the needle from her vein, applying pressure to the wound before helping her stand up.
The black-market doctor had cowered beneath a metal surgical tray, terrified of the deafening gunfire.
I completely ignored him, rushing over to the operating table where my little girl was sleeping peacefully.
I scooped Maya into my arms, thanking God that the doctor hadn't actually started the extraction procedure.
Elena burst into the room through the thick smoke, her submachine gun sweeping the area for any remaining threats.
She quickly disabled the malfunctioning turrets by shooting their exposed control panels on the ceiling.
Arthur was crawling desperately across the floor, severely burned and gasping for air amidst the leaking oxygen.
He reached out with a trembling, bloody hand, begging us to help him survive the night.
Elena aimed her weapon directly at the dying billionaire's head, entirely ready to execute him on the spot.
I grabbed the barrel of her gun and pushed it downward, refusing to let her commit cold-blooded murder in front of my family.
I told Elena that letting him slowly succumb to his failing organs in a ruined bunker was a far worse punishment.
She reluctantly lowered her weapon, understanding the dark, poetic justice of my decision.
The massive facility was quickly filling with thick, toxic smoke from the electrical fires caused by the turrets.
We had to escape the underground bunker immediately before the entire ventilation system completely collapsed.
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I carried Maya tightly against my chest, supporting Sarah with my other arm as we ran back toward the elevators.
Just as we reached the heavy steel doors, the emergency lockdown protocol engaged, sealing the entire floor behind a massive wall of impenetrable titanium.
