Chapter 7
I heard the massive security alarm echo through the street,
and I saw the red lights flashing inside the gallery,
confirming my absolute worst and darkest fears.
We are breaching right now,
I yelled to Miller,
and I kicked the door of the tactical van open.
I grabbed my suppressed assault rifle from the rack,
and I sprinted across the wet cobblestone street,
ignoring the heavy rain completely.
Two armed guards stepped out of the front entrance,
and they raised their submachine guns to fire,
but I did not give them a single chance.
I fired two highly precise bursts while moving,
and both guards dropped heavily to the pavement,
their weapons clattering loudly on the ground.
Miller and his ghost team followed right behind me,
and they secured the perimeter of the art gallery,
while I pushed aggressively into the main lobby.
The door to the wine cellar was heavily fortified,
and the electronic locks were thoroughly engaged,
designed to withstand a massive police raid.
Bring up the thermal breaching charges,
I commanded,
and a technician rushed forward with a heavy bag.
He slapped a ring of explosive putty onto the steel,
and he inserted a highly volatile detonator,
stepping back to a safe minimum distance.
Blow it,
I ordered coldly,
and the charge went off with a blinding white flash.
The solid iron door was completely melted,
and the hinges failed under the extreme heat,
sending the heavy metal crashing down the stairs.
I charged down into the smoky stairwell,
and I saw Lily taking cover behind a stone pillar,
trading heavy gunfire with Viktor's elite bodyguards.
She was pinned down by overwhelming suppressing fire,
and pieces of ancient rock were exploding around her,
but she was holding her ground bravely.
I engaged the targets from the elevated staircase,
and I dropped three mercenaries with rapid headshots,
relieving the massive pressure on her position.
Dad,
she yelled over the deafening noise of the guns,
and she pointed toward the back of the room.
Viktor is escaping through the service tunnel,
she warned me,
and he is taking his primary hard drives with him.
Secure the data pen and get outside,
I shouted back,
and I will hunt down the broker myself.
I leaped over the stone railing of the stairs,
and I landed heavily on the main auction floor,
sprinting past the terrified and cowering guests.
I entered the dark service tunnel at a full run,
and the air down there smelled like gunpowder and mold,
making it difficult to breathe properly.
Viktor was heavily guarded by his remaining men,
and they were retreating toward a secret subway access,
hoping to vanish into the vast Parisian transit system.
I threw a flashbang grenade down the narrow corridor,
and the incredibly bright explosion blinded the rear guard,
allowing me to close the crucial distance.
I engaged them in brutal close-quarters combat,
and I disarmed one man with a swift strike,
using his own weapon to clear the tight space.
Viktor saw his elite protection detail completely collapse,
and absolute panic finally washed over his scarred face,
as he realized he could not outrun a ghost.
He dropped his heavy bag of encrypted drives,
and he raised his hands in a gesture of surrender,
backing slowly against the cold, wet wall.
Do not shoot,
he begged in a highly pathetic voice,
and I can give you whatever you want.
I walked up to him and drove my rifle into his chest,
and I pinned him roughly against the stone bricks,
my eyes burning with unrestrained, righteous fury.
You are going to tell me who runs the Syndicate,
I demanded,
and you are going to tell me right now.
Viktor coughed violently and tried to catch his breath,
and he looked at me with a mixture of fear and awe,
recognizing my face from the old intelligence files.
You are the legendary Director,
he gasped,
and they told me you were completely retired.
I un-retired,
I said coldly,
and now I need a very specific name.
If I tell you his name,
Viktor stammered,
he will kill my entire extended family.
If you do not tell me his name,
I promised him,
you will not live long enough to care.
I pressed the hot barrel of the rifle under his chin,
and the distinct smell of burning metal filled his nose,
breaking his ultimate resolve entirely.
His name is Kael,
Viktor finally confessed,
and he operates from an alpine fortress in Switzerland.
I pulled the rifle away and knocked him out cold,
and I grabbed his heavy bag of encrypted drives,
leaving him for the French police to find.
May you like
We had a name and a physical location,
and the final hunt was officially on.
