Chapter 4: Dust and Shadow
1025 Words
The shockwave from the explosion tore through the executive suite, shattering the remaining glass panels and filling the room with a cloud of concrete dust and burning debris.
Rhea reacted instantly. As the blast threw her backward, she tucked her chin, executing a clean tactical roll across the hardwood floor to absorb the force. She came up on one knee behind the overturned mahogany conference table, her eyes sharp and scanning the destruction.
Across the room, Victor Drake groaned, trapped beneath a heavy piece of fallen drywall near his private office door. His expensive suit was covered in gray dust, and blood trickled from a shallow cut on his forehead.
"Lyra!" Rhea snapped into her earpiece, clearing her throat of dust. "Who just blew that wall?"
Static hissed through her receiver before Lyra’s urgent voice broke through. "Rhea, get out of there now! That wasn't us, and it wasn't Victor’s security. A heavy tactical assault team just hit the floor via the external utility elevator. They’re wearing unmarked black armor—Iron Dragon’s black-ops clean-up squad!"
Rhea’s jaw tightened. Victor’s own syndicate is trying to silence him.
Before Victor could clear the debris off his legs, heavy combat boots stepped through the smoke-filled breach. Three masked mercenaries armed with automatic carbines entered the room, their weapon lights cutting through the haze.
The lead operative didn't even hesitate. He raised his weapon, aiming it straight at Victor’s chest to eliminate the target and destroy any evidence linking the syndicate to the corporation.
"Not today," Rhea muttered.
She grabbed a heavy crystal glass from the fallen table and hurled it with lethal precision.
The glass shattered directly across the lead mercenary’s helmet visor, throwing off his aim just as he pulled the trigger. A burst of gunfire chewed into the floor inches from Victor’s feet, sending sparks flying.
Before the squad could adjust their crosshairs, Rhea moved.
She sprinted out from behind the mahogany table, staying low beneath their line of sight. She closed the distance to the second mercenary, grabbing the barrel of his carbine and forcing it upward. A loud burst of bullets ripped harmlessly into the ceiling plaster.
Rhea slammed a harsh side-kick into the side of his knee, forcing the joint to buckle with a sickening crack. As he collapsed, she snatched a flashbang grenade from his tactical vest, pulled the pin, and tossed it straight into the center of the squad.
"Cover!" the third mercenary yelled.
Rhea threw herself over the low edge of the VIP bar, covering her ears.
BANG!
A blinding flash of white light and a thunderous pressure wave echoed through the boardroom, disorienting the remaining mercenaries and sending ringing pitch through their ears.
Taking advantage of the chaos, Rhea leaped over the bar, grabbed Victor by the collar of his suit jacket, and dragged him roughly to his feet.
"Get up!" Rhea growled, shoving him toward the private service corridor behind his office.
Victor stumbled, clutching his chest, his eyes wild with terror as he looked at the dead and disoriented mercenaries behind them. "They... they were sent to kill me! The Syndicate board..."
"They know you compromised the network," Rhea said, pushing him ahead into the narrow, dimly lit service hallway. "You're useless to them now, Victor. The only reason you're breathing is because I haven't taken everything from you yet."
"Why are you helping me?!" Victor stammered, leaning against the cold concrete wall as they hurried down the metal stairs.
Rhea stopped on the landing, turning to face him. Her dark eyes were cold, unyielding, and devoid of pity.
"Because dying in a corporate cover-up is too easy for you," she whispered, her voice like ice. "You are going to face every single piece of evidence I gather. You will watch your empire crumble, your wealth vanish, and your name erased before you step into a cell."
Above them, heavy footsteps began descending the stairwell. The clean-up squad was recovering fast.
"Lyra," Rhea said, tapping her comms as she unlocked the service exit leading into the subterranean parking garage. "We have the asset, but we're hot. Bring the sedan to Bay 4 now."
"Already idling," Lyra replied. "Ten seconds, Rhea!"
Rhea dragged Victor through the heavy steel double doors into the underground garage. Tires screeched across the smooth concrete as their black tinted sedan whipped around the pillar, sliding to a stop right in front of them with the rear passenger door popping open.
Rhea shoved Victor into the back seat and vaulted in right behind him, slamming the door shut.
"Go!" she shouted.
The sedan accelerated out of the bay just as two mercenaries opened fire from the stairwell door. Bullets pinged harmlessly off the reinforced bulletproof rear glass as the car roared up the exit ramp and burst into the bright afternoon sunlight of the city streets.
In the back seat, Victor collapsed against the leather cushions, panting heavily, his hands trembling violently. He looked at Rhea, who was calmly checking the chamber of her sidearm before tucking it away.
"Who are you working for?" Victor rasped, his voice barely a whisper. "Who gave you this power?"
Rhea looked out the tinted window as the tall towers of Sacramento Global shrank into the distance.
"Ten years ago, you thought you destroyed the Sacramento name," Rhea said softly. "You forgot that blood leaves a mark. And Las Farra never forgets."
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out to see a encrypted incoming transmission displaying an unknown, high-level clearance code.
She swiped to accept the call.
"Rhea," Madam Vane’s commanding voice echoed through the speaker. "You secured Drake, but the Iron Dragon has mobilized. Their supreme commander, Julian Cross, just landed in the city. He knows who you are."
Rhea’s grip tightened around the phone, her pulse steadying into a calm, dangerous rhythm.
"Let him come," Rhea replied. "It saves me the trip."
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