Chapter 6 - The Terminal Ambush
The Grand Central Transit hub was eerily desolate at 4:45 a.m. The massive vaulted ceilings echoed with the sound of Elena’s boots clicking against the marble floor. The sleet pounded against the high skylights, casting frantic shadows across the empty concourse.
Elena kept her head down, a dark beanie pulled low over her ears, blending in with the handful of homeless individuals seeking shelter near the heating vents.
“I’m in the south corridor,” Elena whispered into the Bluetooth earpiece hidden beneath her hat.
“I have you on camera,” David replied in her ear. “Locker 409 is in the basement concourse, near the old maintenance tunnels. I don’t see any immediate movement, but there are two blind spots by the stairwell. Stay sharp.”
Elena descended the escalator, her hand resting casually inside her jacket, her fingers brushing the grip of her Glock. The basement was dimly lit, smelling of ozone and old floor wax. Banks of rusted orange lockers lined the walls.
She counted the numbers down. 405. 407. 409.
She stepped up to the locker, glancing over her shoulder. Nothing but empty space. She reached out, her fingers numb from the cold, and punched in the code Maya’s card had provided: 8-8-1-2.
The lock clicked open with a loud, metallic clack that seemed to echo like a gunshot in the silent room.
Elena pulled the door open. Inside sat a small, padded manila envelope. She grabbed it, feeling the rigid shape of a flash drive inside.
“Got it,” she whispered.
“Elena, move!” David suddenly shouted in her earpiece. “Two heat signatures just stepped out of the maintenance stairwell blind spot. They’re armed!”
Elena didn’t look back. She shoved the envelope down her shirt and dove behind a massive concrete pillar just as a suppressed bullet shattered the locker door she had been standing in front of a split second prior.
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Thwip. Thwip. Thwip.
Chunks of marble exploded around her. Thorne’s men weren't here to negotiate. They were here to execute her, take the drive, and bury the evidence. Elena drew her weapon, her heart hammering against her ribs. The standoff had begun.
