Chapter 5 - Breach at the Cliffs Edge
The interior of the mansion was bathed in an eerie, pulsing red glow as emergency backup generators kicked in. Heavy oak doors stood open, and the faint sound of classical music drifted down the sweeping marble staircase—Mozart, one of Vincent’s pretentious favorites.
I stepped into the grand foyer, water dripping from my suit onto the pristine white marble. Two of Vincent’s mercenaries rounded the corner from the East Wing, automatic rifles raised.
They didn't even have time to pull their triggers.
Before their barrels could level at my chest, two muffled pops echoed from the shadows behind a marble pillar as Marcus and one of my advance men neutralized them with silent precision. The guards hit the floor without a sound.
"Clear," Marcus whispered, stepping out and checking their pulses.
"Keep moving," I commanded, striding toward the grand staircase. "The third floor. East Wing."
As we ascended, the classical music grew louder, echoing off the vaulted ceilings. Halfway up the stairs, three more guards appeared on the landing above, shouting in Russian and raising their weapons.
I didn't bother hiding. I drew my Sig Sauer and fired twice, dropping the lead guard over the wrought-iron railing. He crashed to the marble floor below with a heavy thud. Marcus and the rest of my strike team swarmed the landing, overwhelming the remaining two mercenaries in a matter of seconds.
The third-floor hallway was silent, lined with dark mahogany doors and antique oil paintings.
At the very end of the hall stood a heavy, reinforced steel door fitted with a digital keypad and a biometric scanner—the kind of lock usually reserved for federal reserve vaults.
"He really didn't want anyone getting in," Marcus muttered, examining the keypad. "Or getting out."
"Stand back," I said.
I stepped up to the biometric scanner, pulled a heavy tactical breaching charge from my belt, and slapped it directly against the center of the reinforced steel door.
"Boss, the shockwave might—"
"I said stand back, Marcus."
I backed away twenty feet, pulled the detonator from my pocket, and pressed the button.
May you like
BOOM.
The blast shook the entire third-floor corridor, blowing the heavy steel door off its reinforced hinges in a cloud of smoke, shrapnel, and pulverized drywall. The classical music abruptly stopped, replaced by the waring shriek of the fire alarm system.
