Chapter 16 - Crossfire
The midnight fog rolled heavily off the freezing ocean, cloaking the old naval shipyards in an impenetrable, ghostly gray shroud. We parked the armored SUVs two blocks away and moved silently through the wet, rusted shipping containers.
Warehouse 42 stood at the end of a broken asphalt pier. Inside, the massive space was completely dark, save for a single, flickering fluorescent bulb hanging near the center. We had placed a heavy titanium server rack directly under the light, waiting perfectly as bait.
Ernesto, Sofia, and I took up elevated positions on the rusted steel catwalks high above the warehouse floor, our suppressed rifles aimed squarely at the massive loading doors. We did not have to wait long.
At exactly midnight, three matte-black, unmarked tactical vans violently smashed through the chain-link gates of the pier. They skidded to a halt outside the warehouse, and a dozen heavily armed men in advanced combat gear poured out, moving with terrifying military precision.
David Thorne walked in behind them, wearing a tailored suit, looking utterly arrogant.
"Secure the server and burn the building down," Thorne commanded the masked mercenaries. "Vance wants the Alvarez family entirely bankrupt by morning."
Viktor Vance. The name hung in the damp air. We finally had a name for the architect of our destruction.
"Now," I whispered into my tactical radio.
Ernesto flipped a heavy industrial switch, immediately killing the single flickering light and plunging the warehouse into absolute, pitch-black darkness. Simultaneously, Sofia activated high-intensity strobe lights and a deafening siren we had rigged across the ceiling.
Total chaos erupted on the ground floor. The mercenaries were blinded and disoriented by the violently flashing lights. I opened fire from the catwalk, my suppressed rifle dropping two of the Vanguard soldiers before they even knew where the attack was coming from.
Ernesto fired with devastating, ruthless accuracy, proving that his age had not dulled his lethal instincts. The mercenaries panicked, wildly firing automatic weapons into the darkness.
Suddenly, a stray bullet ricocheted off a steel beam directly beside Sofia. She cried out in pain, stumbling backward and dropping her weapon.
"Sofia!" I screamed, abandoning my tactical position and sprinting across the narrow catwalk.
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She was clutching her left shoulder, blood soaking rapidly through her dark tactical jacket. Below us, Thorne realized the trap and began sprinting desperately toward the exit. I had to choose between pursuing the traitor and saving the woman I loved.
It was not a choice at all. I grabbed Sofia, threw her arm over my shoulder, and dragged her toward the emergency fire escape, leaving Thorne to vanish into the foggy night.
