Chapter 5 - THE ABANDONED RAILYARDThe rain had turned into a freezing, unrelenting downpour by 3:00 AM.
Convoys of black SUVs tore through the industrial district on the southern edge of Chicago, kicking up sheets of muddy water as they converged on the abandoned Union Pacific railyard—a sprawling wasteland of rusted train cars, crumbling brick warehouses, and overgrown weeds.
According to a decrypted burner-phone signal traced from Sarah Jenkins’ escape route, Elena Lin was being held inside Warehouse 14, an old locomotive repair station decommissioned twenty years ago.
Warren stepped out of his vehicle into the freezing rain, refusing an umbrella. He wore a heavy black tactical vest over his dark suit, his face carved from granite. Marcus handed him a customized Sig Sauer pistol, checking the magazine load.
"We have twelve men perimeter-locked," Marcus whispered, leaning close over the hood of the SUV. "Vance’s private security detail—about eight armed mercenaries—are holding the inside. They don't know we breached the archives yet. They think Sarah is bringing the primary extraction vehicle."
"No negotiations," Warren said, cocking the pistol with a sharp, metallic click. "If anyone draws a weapon, put them down."
They moved like ghosts through the shadows of rusting cargo containers. The air smelled of wet rust, diesel fuel, and decaying wood.
Through the cracked, grime-covered windows of Warehouse 14, Warren could see a harsh yellow work light swinging lazily from a ceiling chain. In the center of the cavernous room, tied firmly to an old metal chair, sat Elena Lin. Her face was bruised, her clothes damp and dirty, but her head was held high with fierce, unbroken defiance.
Standing over her was a scarred, heavy-set man in a tactical vest—Kovacs, a notorious ex-military contractor known for handling Chicago’s dirtiest corporate hits.
"I’ll ask you one more time, Mrs. Lin," Kovacs sneered, crouching down so his face was inches from hers. "Where did the second set of digital flash drives go? Your daughter gave one to the old man at the cemetery, but there were two. Where is the backup?"
Elena spat a mouthful of blood onto the concrete floor. "Go to hell."
Kovacs raised a heavy hand, winding up to strike her across the face.
Bang!
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The high-pitched crack of a suppressed sniper rifle echoed through the railyard. The heavy work light hanging above Kovacs shattered into a million sparkling shards, plunging the center of the warehouse into total darkness.
Before the mercenaries could react, the massive rusted double doors of Warehouse 14 burst inward with a deafening crash.
