Chapter 8 - The Ghost
I kicked out violently in the cramped space, my boots connecting with solid muscle.
A man grunted in pain, but his iron grip on my ankles did not loosen.
It was Victor's right-hand man, a brutal mercenary known only as the Ghost.
He had obviously crawled into the ventilation system to bypass the locked doors.
"You are not going anywhere, little bird," the Ghost hissed in the darkness.
He dragged me closer, pulling a serrated combat knife from his tactical vest.
I twisted my body forcefully, rolling onto my back within the tight metal confines of the shaft.
I blocked his downward stab with my forearm, the sharp blade slicing through my sleeve and grazing my skin.
The pain was sharp, but adrenaline pushed it entirely out of my mind.
I drove my elbow hard into his face, feeling his nose break under the impact.
He cursed loudly, dropping the knife as he tried to grab my throat with both hands.
I reached down to my belt, unhooking a heavy tactical flashlight I had taken from the security room.
I slammed the solid metal base of the flashlight directly into his temple with all my strength.
The Ghost instantly went limp, his heavy body collapsing onto the floor of the vent.
I shoved him aside, ignoring the blood dripping from my arm as I continued crawling forward.
The vent sloped upward, leading directly toward the ceiling of the grand ballroom.
I could hear the terrified murmurs of the guests echoing up through the metal grates.
I reached the final grate and peered down through the narrow slots.
The guests were huddled together, completely unaware that a mercenary was standing on the balcony above them.
Another of Victor's men was holding a wired detonator, directly connected to the explosives on the pillars.
The EMP shield in the basement did not extend to this part of the mansion.
If he pressed that button, hundreds of innocent people would die instantly.
I carefully unscrewed the vent cover, ensuring it made absolutely no noise.
I slipped out of the ceiling and dropped silently onto the balcony directly behind him.
I wrapped my arm around his neck, preparing to choke him out before he could react.
But as I pulled him backward, I saw a thick red wire running from his wrist directly to the device.
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It was a dead-man's switch; if he lost consciousness and dropped the remote, the bomb would explode.
He smiled wickedly at me, knowing I was completely trapped.
