Chapter 10 - The Apex Server Farm
-10-
The interior of Warehouse 14 looked less like a traditional industrial storage facility and more like a high-security military intelligence bunker. Rows of sleek, industrial server racks hummed loudly under fluorescent strobe lighting, their green and amber data lights blinking in chaotic synchronization. In the center of the vast room, a half-dozen syndicate technicians were frantically hammering away at laptop keyboards, trying to execute emergency data wipes before our arrival.
"Foul! Intruder alert!" one of the guards near the main staircase shouted, drawing his sidearm.
He didn't even get his weapon fully raised before my father’s pistol cracked twice. The guard spun around and dropped heavily against a stack of server crates.
Panic erupted across the floor. Technicians scattered in every direction, diving behind server racks and scrambling up the metal stairs leading to the second-floor mezzanine. Three heavily armed syndicate mercenaries rushed out from a side office, raising their carbines toward our position.
"Take cover!" Daniel yelled, grabbing my arm and pulling me violently behind a thick concrete pillar just as a hail of submachine gun fire chewed through the drywall inches above our heads.
Bullets ricocheted off the concrete, sending white dust and jagged concrete shards flying into the air.
Marcus and his tactical team poured through the rear loading bay doors at that exact moment, opening fire with suppressive rounds that caught the syndicate mercenaries in a crossfire. The heavy thud of tactical rounds echoing off the metal walls was deafening.
"Keep moving!" my father shouted over the gunfire, leading the charge toward the central staircase. "They're trying to reach the master console on the mezzanine!"
Daniel and I followed closely behind my father, our weapons drawn and scanning every shadow. A mercenary popped out from behind a server rack to our left, raising his rifle directly toward my father's back.
Without thinking, I raised my pistol, aimed, and squeezed the trigger.
The shot caught the mercenary in the shoulder. He cried out in pain, dropping his weapon and tumbling backward over the metal railing onto the concrete floor below.
"Nice shot," Daniel gasped, flashing me an intense, appreciative look amidst the chaos.
"Save your compliments for after we shut down the servers," I fired back, vaulting up the remaining steps onto the second-floor mezzanine.
We reached the master control console just as the lead syndicate technician—a pale, middle-aged man in an expensive tailored suit who looked entirely out of place in a damp warehouse—was slamming his fist onto the master format button.
"Stop right there!" my father roared, pressing the barrel of his pistol against the back of the man's neck.
The technician froze, his finger hovering millimeters above the red button. Slowly, he raised his hands in the air, his breath coming in ragged, terrified gasps.
"Don't... don't shoot," the man stammered. "You're... you're too late anyway. The primary encryption keys have already been transmitted to an off-shore cold storage node in Zurich. You can't stop the wipe."
"I don't need to stop the wipe," a calm, familiar voice echoed from the top of the internal staircase behind the control room.
We all spun around.
Standing on the upper landing, flanked by two armed mercenaries holding automatic rifles, was a woman whose presence made my blood run completely cold.
May you like
It wasn't Linda.
It was Victoria Sterling—the senior managing director of the Apex Syndicate, and, more importantly, the woman who sat on the executive advisory board of Bellamy’s parent corporation.
