THE ASSASSIN CEO CONTRACT

The Mastermind In The Shadows

CHAPTER 5:

The service cage rattled down the exterior frame of Blackwood Tower like an iron skeleton caught in a gale. Cold rain hit their faces and washed away the soot from the 50th floor and stuck Jessica's dark hair to her cheeks.

Mark stood directly behind her in the narrow space. His broad frame shielded her from the wind as the lift descended past Level 20, Level 10, and Level 2.

Jessica kept her pistol steady and her eyes locked on the approaching concrete floor below. "Your back. That debris hit you hard."

"It is a scratch, Heiress," Mark murmured quietly. His eyes scanned the gloom below as the cage shuddered to a slow crawl. "Focus on the basement. My security grid went dark when I pulled the main breaker. That means the garage is unlit, but Victor's main convoy will be waiting."

"He will not be in the car," Jessica said. Her voice dropped into a cold and disciplined register. "Victor Sterling never watches a kill from a distance when he thinks he has already won."

The lift hit the lowest subterranean level with a heavy metal thud. B2.

The air down here was thick with oil and damp exhaust and stagnant concrete air. The backup lights were dead, leaving the vast underground parking structure submerged in pitch black, except for the faint red glow of emergency exit signs reflecting off puddles on the slick floor.

Mark reached past her and slid the iron gate open with a slow and silent pull.

They stepped out onto the damp concrete floor together, weapons raised, moving as two synchronized shadows through the rows of parked luxury sedans and heavy concrete support pillars.

"Ten meters to the secondary exit tunnel," Mark whispered and gestured toward the shadowed wall ahead. "Through that door is the utility lane that connects directly to the private docks on the river."

They took three quiet steps before the floodlights hit them.

Blinding white halogen beams erupted from four heavy SUVs parked in a semi-circle around the exit lane. The intense glare turned the dark garage into a brightly lit stage and pinned Mark and Jessica in the center.

"Drop the weapons," a voice echoed through a loudspeaker. It was cold and refined and utterly devoid of warmth.

Jessica squinted against the blinding light and her hand froze on the grip of her Glock.

From the backseat of the center Maybach, a tall man in a charcoal three-piece suit stepped out. He carried an umbrella and opened it with a crisp click against the slow water dripping from the ceiling pipes. He looked entirely undisturbed, as if he were attending a late-night board meeting rather than orchestrating an execution.

Victor Sterling.

"Jessica," her father said softly and stepped into the edge of the light. His gaze swept over her torn tactical gear and the soot on her face. "I must admit, I am disappointed. I sent J to do a job. I did not expect my own daughter to be standing beside the man who stole the Eastern Logistics Port contract from beneath us."

Jessica felt a surge of cold rage burst through her training. She kept her gun leveled squarely at her father's chest.

"You knew it was me," Jessica said. Her voice cut through the hollow garage. "You knew I was J. You did not hire an assassin, Father. You set up a trap."

Victor smiled. It was a thin and lifeless expression that never reached his eyes.

"Operating in the shadows and taking contracts I did not approve, you were becoming an unpredictable liability to the Sterling name, my dear," Victor said calmly and gestured slightly with his gloved hand.

Around the SUVs, six heavily armed men stepped into the light with rifles raised and taking aim.

"And Mr. Blackwood refused every offer I made to acquire his family's port," Victor added smoothly. "It was time to clear the board."

Mark stepped forward and his body naturally screened part of Jessica from the rifles lined up against them.

"You talk too much, Sterling," Mark said. His voice was flat and hard as iron. "You killed my father on the Sheares Bridge three years ago. You thought you could bury the truth under a river of money."

"Your father was stubborn, Mark," Victor replied and took a slow step toward them. "Just as you are. Take them down. Aim for Blackwood first."

"Jessica, now!" Mark barked.

Before the gunmen could pull their triggers, Jessica swung her pistol upward.

She did not shoot at her father. She did not shoot at the guards. She fired three rapid shots straight into the high-voltage industrial distribution box and backup generator mounted directly behind Victor's Maybach.

PHUT. PHUT. PHUT.

The heavy gauge wiring inside ruptured. A blinding wave of blue electricity arced across the metal casing, followed instantly by a violent explosion of sparks and dark smoke.

BOOM.

The secondary transformer blew out and plunged the underground garage into total and suffocating darkness. The halogen headlights short-circuited and died, leaving the gunmen blind.

Shouts of panic and chaotic gunfire erupted in the dark as Victor's men fired wildly into the shadows.

Mark reacted instantly. Grabbing Jessica by the shoulder of her tactical vest, he pulled her low and sprinted toward the heavy steel fire door of the secondary exit lane.

He slammed his weight against the crash bar and threw them through the doorway just as a spray of automatic fire chewed into the steel frame behind them.

Mark slammed the heavy door shut and threw the manual iron deadbolt into place with a sharp clack.

They stumbled into the narrow and damp utility tunnel leading out toward the river. The air was cool and smelled of fresh salt water and rain.

Jessica leaned against the brick wall. Her chest was heaving and her fingers were still holding her pistol tight.

Mark stood a step away. His chest rose and fell heavily as he checked the hallway behind them. He turned back to her and his sharp gaze took in her condition with dark and focused intensity.

"Are you hit?" he asked. His voice was rough from smoke and adrenaline.

"I am fine," Jessica murmured and caught her breath. "He is going to lock down the entire city, Mark. Every port and every airport and every street."

"Let him try," Mark replied. His voice was low and unyielding. "This is my city too, Heiress. And tonight, you are coming home with me.”