Ral dropped to the floor as bullets tore through the darkness above him, the laptop crashing down beside him with screen still glowing faintly. The basement had transformed into kill zone with at least three distinct groups firing—the criminals who had kidn*pped him, FBI teams breaching from above, and a third unknown force assaulting from directions that suggested they had been positioned and waiting.
"Secure the analyst!" someone shouted in accented English that was neither American nor Russian. "The files are secondary priority. We need Anderson alive."
A hand grabbed Ral's collar, dragging him toward what he hoped was cover but could equally be execution position. He twisted violently, his elbow connecting with something that felt like body armor. His captor grunted but maintained gr
