Chapter 6 - THE GENERAL’S SHADOWDown in the subterranean basement parking garage of the Kane Tower, a sleek, armored command van sat idling in the shadows. Inside, illuminated by the cold blue glow of multiple satellite monitors, a man in an expensive bespoke suit watched the thermal feeds of the penthouse suite go dark one by one.
General Arthur Vance slammed his fist against the metal console, his face twisting in fury.
“Incompetent fools!” Vance snarled, his voice echoing through the van. “It’s a single mafia boss and a defective animal! How hard is it to sanitize a civilian target?”
“Sir,” whispered a tech specialist, his fingers flying across the keyboard with frantic speed. “The recon team’s vitals just flatlined. All three. In under ten seconds. The telemetry data indicates… well, it indicates the dog orchestrated a coordinated pincer movement with the human combatants.”
Vance’s eyes narrowed into slits. He was a man who had orchestrated black-ops regime changes across three continents; he knew the signature of elite tactical execution when he saw it.
“Victor Kane didn’t just buy a dog,” Vance muttered, a cold realization settling into his chest. “He adopted my missing witness. If that data drive leaves this building, my career, my pension, and my life are over.”
Vance picked up a secure satellite phone, dialing a direct, heavily encrypted frequency.
“This is General Vance,” he barked when the line connected. “Activate the secondary contingency. Level the penthouse. I want thermite charges on the roof structural supports. Burn the building to the ground. Leave no trace, no bodies, and no data.”
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“Sir, the collateral damage in downtown Chicago—”
“Do it!” Vance roared, cutting the operator off. “Or I’ll make sure you’re the next name on the ghost roster.”
