Chapter 7 - The Penthouse Breach
-7-
The climb up twenty-two flights of concrete service stairs was an absolute test of lung and muscle, but the adrenaline pulsing through my veins kept my legs moving without hesitation. By the time we reached the twenty-second floor service landing, my chest was burning, but my focus was razor-sharp.
Marcus held up his fist, signaling the team to halt. He pulled a compact, flexible fiber-optic scope from his tactical pouch, sliding the thin camera snake underneath the heavy steel door leading into the penthouse service vestibule.
"We have two hostiles inside the main hallway," Marcus whispered into the comm-link, his voice barely audible over the hum of the building's ventilation system. "Both armed with suppressed tactical carbines. Wearing black civilian gear—mercenaries, not local muscle. They've got the perimeter secured, and the primary target is still seated in the living room."
"And the layout?" my father asked, peering over Marcus's shoulder at the small monitor displaying the fiber-optic feed.
"Target is in the center of the main salon," Marcus replied. "One guard pacing near the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the lake, the second guard positioned by the primary entry foyer holding a breaching charge remote. If they spot us on the thermal cameras, they'll blow the apartment before we can cross the threshold."
"We don't give them time to think," my father said coldly. He turned to me, his hand resting firmly on my shoulder. "Maddy, stay right behind Marcus. When the door goes, you move straight to Daniel and cut him loose. Leave the hostiles to us."
I nodded, gripping the compact sidearm my father had pressed into my hand before we left the tower. "I'm ready."
Marcus signaled a three-second countdown with his fingers.
Three... Two... One...
With a deafening roar, the tactical charge planted on the service door blew the hinges clean off the frame. The heavy steel slab crashed inward onto the hardwood floor of the foyer.
Before the smoke could even clear, our operatives flooded through the opening like a wave of dark lightning.
"FOU-!" the guard near the foyer screamed, attempting to swing his carbine toward us, but Marcus was already faster. Two suppressed rounds snapped through the air, catching the mercenary squarely in the center of his tactical vest, dropping him instantly.
From the main living room, the second guard spun around, his eyes widening in sheer panic as he spotted us pouring into the apartment. He lunged toward the table where the detonator remote lay resting beside a smashed porcelain vase.
"Don't move!" my father roared, his pistol locked dead onto the mercenary's chest.
Instead of freezing, the guard slammed his thumb down on the red trigger button.
My heart stopped.
For a terrifying second, I waited for the explosion, for the glass to shatter, for the entire penthouse to collapse around us in a fiery inferno.
Nothing happened.
Marcus let out a grim, humorless smile, tapping the small signal-jamming device clipped to his tactical belt. "Amateur hour, pal. We scrambled your wireless frequencies five miles out from the block."
Before the mercenary could draw his backup sidearm, two of our tactical operatives closed the distance, tackling him violently to the ground and slapping heavy steel zip-ties around his wrists.
I didn't wait for the room to clear. I sprinted past the overturned furniture, shattered artwork, and broken glass straight toward the center of the living room.
There sat Daniel.
His head was slumped forward, his face bruised and caked with dried blood, thick industrial zip-ties binding his wrists and ankles tightly to the wooden dining chair. A gag was tied securely across his mouth.
"Daniel!" I cried out, dropping to my knees beside him.
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I scrambled to pull a tactical blade from my vest pocket, quickly slicing through the heavy plastic zip-ties binding his wrists and ankles. As the bindings fell away, Daniel slumped forward into my arms, coughing heavily, his body shivering from shock and cold.
"Maddy..." he rasped, his voice barely a whisper, his eyes bloodshot and wide with terror. "They... they knew everything. They said... they said my mother didn't act alone."
