Chapter 10 - The Reckoning on the High Gantry
Accompanied by four elite tactical officers, Tessa and I slipped through the shadow of the cargo containers and reached the base of the north crane leg.
The hydraulic maintenance lift was operational, humming quietly beneath the roar of the rainstorm.
“You stay here with the backup team,” I ordered Tessa, placing a hand on her shoulder. Her hair was soaked, sticking to her cheeks, her eyes burning with determination.
“If you tear a ligament up there, you won't be able to climb down,” she countered, her voice tight.
“If I don't go up there, they blow the entire terminal, and none of us leave anyway,” I said softly. I reached out and gently brushed a wet strand of hair from her face. “Trust me, Tessa.”
She swallowed hard, then nodded.
“Make them pay, Vincent.”
I stepped into the cage lift with two officers. The lift ascended three hundred feet into the howling coastal wind.
When the lift reached the upper gantry platform, the rain was blinding. The storm winds whipped around the steel superstructure, threatening to tear us from the catwalk.
Through the reinforced glass of the control room, I could see Marcus and three of his mercenaries frantically aiming rifles toward the police lines below, their fingers hovering over the electronic detonation console.
I didn't wait.
I kicked the steel access door open with the full, reinforced power of my carbon-fiber brace.
The heavy door tore off its hinges with an explosive crash.
Before the mercenaries could turn their weapons, my officers fired two flashbang grenades into the enclosed space.
A blinding white flash and a concussive boom disoriented the room.
Marcus spun around, raising an assault rifle, but I closed the distance with predatory speed.
Six months of trapped fury, six months of humiliation, six months of betrayal surged through my veins.
I slammed my forearm across Marcus’s throat, driving him violently backward against the control console. His rifle clattered to the steel grating.
The other two mercenaries dropped their weapons, falling to their knees as my tactical officers trained laser sights onto their foreheads.
Marcus gagged, clawing desperately at my arm, his face turning purple beneath the pressure of my grip.
“You... you were supposed to be dead...” he choked out.
I leaned in close, the rain blowing through the shattered doorway, soaking us both.
“I was dead, Marcus,” I whispered into his ear. “Now I’m the nightmare you built.”
May you like
I ripped the detonator key from his tactical vest, crushed it beneath the heel of my boot, and threw him onto the floor at the feet of the arresting officers.
The terminal was saved.
