flash

Chapter 8 - THE ULTIMATE TWISTBOOM!

A silent wave of electromagnetic energy burst through the upper floor. Instantly, all the tactical gear, night-vision goggles, and electronic sights on the mercenaries' weapons went dead.

At the exact same instant, high-pressure valves in the ceiling released a dense cloud of odorless, colorless fast-acting sedative gas into the hallway.

The mercenaries began coughing violently, dropping their heavy rifles as their nervous systems collapsed. Within ten seconds, all four guards collapsed onto the carpet, unconscious.

Victor, wearing a heavy respirator mask he pulled quickly from his coat, stumbled backward, pointing his pistol at Michael. "You... insane..."

Michael, holding his breath, lunged forward like a panther. He grabbed Victor’s wrist, twisting it violently until the gun clattered to the floor. Michael delivered a devastating knee to Victor’s ribs, followed by a heavy right hook that sent the mercenary leader crashing into the wooden balustrade.

Michael pinned Victor to the floor, resting his knee on the man's throat, pulling off Victor’s respirator mask.

"It’s over," Michael panted, his lungs burning as he pulled a small personal rebreather over his own face. "Your men are down. The police elite strike team will be here in three minutes."

Victor, gasping for air, looked up at Michael. But instead of fear, a slow, terrifying smile spread across his bruised face.

"You... you really don't know... do you, Michael?" Victor wheezed, coughing up blood.

"Know what?" Michael growled, tightening his grip on the man’s throat.

"You think Vanessa was working for me?" Victor choked out a bloody laugh. "Vanessa didn't work for Obsidian..."

Michael’s brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"The Black File..." Victor whispered, his eyes wide with a manic light. "Look at the last page... Look at who signed the authorization order for Sarah’s execution... It wasn't us..."

Michael pulled the leather notebook from his jacket with one hand, flipping furiously to the final encrypted page beneath the back cover.

He scanned the official government clearance stamp at the bottom of the order.

His heart stopped beating entirely.

The document wasn't signed by a corporate syndicate leader. It was signed by the Director of Homeland Security—a man Michael had known for twenty years. A man who was currently standing outside the front gates of his mansion with a federal tactical team.

DIRECTOR THOMAS BRADLEY.

The same "friend" who had helped Michael arrest Vanessa at the gala. The same man who had advised him to take the children into hiding.

Suddenly, the heavy front doors of the mansion were smashed open.

Heavy boots flooded the lower floor. Flashbang grenades detonated in the lower foyer, filling the house with blinding light and deafening sound.

"FEDERAL AGENTS! DROP YOUR WEAPONS!" shouted a voice over a bullhorn from the main entrance.

It was District Attorney Thomas Bradley, wearing a Kevlar vest, walking into the foyer surrounded by heavily armed federal shock troops.

Bradley looked up at the second-floor balcony where Michael stood over Victor.

Bradley didn't look like a friend anymore. His eyes were cold, calculating, and predatory.

"Michael Carter!" Bradley’s voice echoed through the destroyed mansion. "You are under arrest for treason, illegal possession of classified bioweapons, and the murder of your wife, Sarah Carter!"

Michael stood frozen on the landing, holding the notebook that proved his best friend was the man who had ordered his wife’s murder and orchestrated his family's destruction from the very beginning.

Inside the panic room, little Lily’s voice came faintly through the intercom: "Daddy? Is it safe now?"

Michael looked down at the federal rifles pointed at his chest, then at the steel door holding his children, and finally at the Black File in his hands.

He had won the war against Vanessa.

But the real monster was standing in his front hall, wearing a badge.

Michael took a deep breath, looked Bradley dead in the eye, and smiled a dark, dangerous smile.

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"The game just started, Thomas," Michael whispered to himself.

And as the flashbangs went off again, the screen went completely black.

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