Chapter 8 - The Strike
Midnight fell over the city of Chicago like a heavy, suffocating velvet blanket.
Sophie stayed back at the safehouse, secured behind six inches of reinforced steel and guarded by three elite mercenaries.
She paced the wooden floor relentlessly, watching the live feeds from Mason’s body cameras on the laptop.
Adrian and a heavily armed strike team of twenty men arrived at the dark alley behind Moretti’s casino.
It was pouring rain again, effectively masking the sound of their tactical approach.
“EMP device activated,” Mason whispered through the secure comms channel.
On the screen, the loading dock lights flickered violently and died.
The red lights of the biometric scanners went completely dark.
“You have three minutes starting right now,” Sophie’s calm voice echoed in their earpieces.
“Move quickly and stay tight.”
Adrian’s team breached the rear doors with terrifying, silent efficiency.
They moved like ghosts through the darkness, effortlessly bypassing the exterior guards who were confused by the sudden blackout.
They reached the private elevator just as the power hummed back to life, the red lights turning green.
Adrian swiped a stolen keycard, and the heavy metal doors slid open.
The elevator shot upward, taking them straight to the fortified penthouse level.
Sophie held her breath, gripping the edge of the kitchen table so hard her hands ached.
When the doors opened on the top floor, deafening gunfire immediately erupted.
Moretti’s men had been waiting in the hallway, armed with automatic weapons.
But Adrian’s men were faster, better trained, and driven by a completely ruthless leader.
Through the grainy camera feed, Sophie watched Adrian fight like a demon in a bespoke suit.
He moved with lethal precision, taking down threats without a single wasted motion.
Within ninety agonizing seconds, the hallway was completely cleared of enemies.
Adrian violently kicked open the double mahogany doors to Moretti’s private office.
Dominic Moretti was scrambling for a shotgun hidden behind his massive desk.
Adrian did not give him the chance to aim.
He fired a single, perfect shot, blowing the heavy weapon right out of Moretti’s bloody hands.
“It is finally over, Dominic,” Adrian’s cold, authoritative voice filtered through the audio feed.
Sophie exhaled a massive, shaky breath, her heart soaring with relief.
Her logistical plan had worked perfectly.
But then, her sharp eyes noticed a secondary monitor on the desk in the background of the video feed.
It showed a digital timer rapidly counting down from thirty seconds.
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“Adrian, it is a trap!” Sophie screamed into the microphone, pure terror lacing her voice.
“Get out of the room right now, he rigged the entire penthouse with explosives!”
