Chapter 4 - The Belly of the Beast
Alarms blared across the shipyard, harsh, red strobe lights painting the fog in demonic hues. The yard below erupted into organized chaos as dozens of heavily armed Iron Hounds swarmed out of the barracks, flashlights cutting erratic swaths through the darkness.
Vance didn't panic. Panic was a luxury for the unprepared. He drew his suppressed pistol, checking the chamber in one smooth, practiced motion. He slipped out of the office window, scaling down the drainpipe as guards burst into the hallway behind him.
He dropped into an alleyway formed by two towering stacks of shipping containers. It was dark, claustrophobic, and smelled heavily of diesel fuel. He needed to find Elias before Silas realized his lie had been uncovered.
"He's in sector three! Between the stacks!" a voice echoed from above.
Vance looked up to see a guard on top of the containers, shining a heavy spotlight down into the maze. The beam caught Vance for a fraction of a second.
Gunfire erupted. Sparks showered down as bullets chewed through the corrugated steel walls of the containers, deafening in the enclosed space. Vance dove forward, rolling into a combat stance, and fired twice upward. Thwip-thwip. The suppressed shots were barely audible over the roaring alarms, but the spotlight immediately shattered, plunging the alley back into darkness, accompanied by a heavy thud as the guard fell.
Vance kept moving, navigating the labyrinth entirely by memory and instinct. He reached the heavy maintenance bay at the back of the yard. This was where Silas kept his personal "interrogation" tools.
Vance kicked the side door open, sweeping the room with his pistol. The bay was cavernous, filled with the hanging chains of engine hoists and rusted tools. In the center of the room, suspended by his wrists from a heavy iron hook, was Elias.
The old man was beaten badly, his clothes stained with blood, but he was breathing. His head slumped forward, unconscious.
Vance rushed forward, holstering his weapon to reach for the chain winch to lower him.
"I knew you were good, Ghost," a voice ground out from the shadows. "But I didn't think you were stupid enough to walk straight into the slaughterhouse."
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The massive heavy bay doors at the front of the garage groaned open. Silas stood there, flanked by six men holding automatic rifles. The enforcer cracked his thick knuckles, a sadistic grin stretching across his scarred face.
"Kill him," Silas commanded. "Leave the old man up there for the seagulls."
