Chapter 9 - The Penthouse Breach
Alex slammed the cup of poisoned coffee violently into the fake detective's face, burning the man severely.
The cleaner screamed in sheer agony, stumbling backward and clawing frantically at his painfully blistered eyes.
Alex lunged across the metal table, wrapping the heavy chain of his handcuffs tightly around the assassin's thick neck.
He pulled aggressively until the struggling man finally lost consciousness and slumped heavily onto the cold floor.
Alex quickly rummaged through the unconscious cleaner's pockets, finding the universal handcuff key and a loaded tactical pistol.
He freed his bleeding wrists and quickly stripped the dark police jacket off the massive man, putting it on as a disguise.
He knew Mia's heart rate monitor flatlining meant she was either dead, or the tracking signal had been intentionally jammed.
He had hidden a secondary, deeply encrypted GPS tracker in the watch casing that only his original developer code could read.
He pulled out his stolen cell phone and rapidly executed the ping command, praying desperately for a digital response.
A bright red dot instantly appeared on his screen, entirely bypassing Thorne's advanced signal jammers.
The location was not a dark basement anymore, but rather the absolute top floor of Thorne's luxurious residential penthouse suite.
Alex walked confidently out of the interrogation room, keeping his head down as he slipped past the busy precinct officers.
He stole a parked police cruiser from the station lot and raced frantically across the city toward the towering residential high-rise.
He forcefully kicked down the door to the private penthouse elevator, hotwiring the control panel to bypass the security lockout.
The elevator shot upward at a dizzying speed, finally opening directly into Thorne's massive, modern glass living room.
Alex burst out of the elevator with his stolen gun raised high, fully prepared to gun down anyone standing in his way.
The expensive room was completely trashed, with shattered glass tables and expensive art thrown violently across the floor.
Marcus Thorne was lying in the absolute center of the room, completely motionless in a massive pool of dark blood.
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Alex lowered his weapon slowly as a small figure stepped out from the deep shadows of the balcony.
Mia was standing there entirely unharmed, holding a smoking, heavy caliber pistol with perfectly steady hands.
