Chapter 4 - The Penthouse Infiltration
Two days later. 2:00 AM. A violent thunderstorm was raging over the city, lightning violently illuminating the heavy black clouds. The torrential rain was my cover.
I was hanging suspended five hundred feet in the air, gripping a wet carbon-fiber rope outside the glass exterior of the Vanguard building. The wind howled, threatening to tear me off the side of the skyscraper, but my hands were steady. I had done HALO drops into active war zones; a little rain wasn't going to stop me.
Through my earpiece, Marcus’s voice crackled. "Elias, you're clear. Security cameras on the 50th floor are looped. You have a four-minute window before the system reboots. Go."
I swung my body weight, planting my tactical boots firmly against the reinforced glass of Julian's private office. Using a specialized diamond-tipped glass cutter, I carved a perfect circle, punched it inward, and slipped silently into the pitch-black room.
The penthouse was massive, dripping with excessive, obnoxious wealth. I moved like a shadow, my steps completely silent on the plush carpet. According to Marcus, the safe was hidden behind a massive oil painting of Julian himself. Typical narcissist.
I found the painting, pulled it aside, and revealed the heavy steel biometric safe. I attached a small, magnetic decryption device Marcus had built to the keypad. The numbers spun rapidly on the tiny screen.
Suddenly, the door to the office clicked open.
I melted into the dark corner of the room, pressing my body flat against the wall, my hand instinctively dropping to the hilt of my combat knife.
The lights flicked on, blindingly bright. And there she was.
Clara.
She was wearing a silk nightgown, her hair messy, looking exhausted and haunted. She walked to the wet bar to pour herself a glass of water. She looked so fragile, so entirely broken, that my heart physically ached. She wasn't glowing like she was on her wedding day. The facade was gone.
I stepped out of the shadows. "Clara."
She gasped, dropping the crystal glass. It shattered on the floor. She spun around, her eyes wide with absolute terror, fully expecting an assassin. But when her eyes adjusted and locked onto my face, the air left her lungs.
"Elias?" she whispered, her whole body violently trembling. "Oh my god... Elias. You're real. You're actually here."
Before I could say another word, she sprinted across the room and threw herself into my arms. The impact of her body against mine knocked the breath out of me. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her tightly against my chest, burying my face in her hair. She smelled like vanilla and rain. She was sobbing uncontrollably, her fingers digging into my tactical vest as if she was afraid I would vanish into thin air.
"I'm here," I whispered fiercely, kissing the top of her head. "I've got you. I'm so sorry I wasn't here sooner."
"He told me you burned in a Humvee," she cried, looking up at me, her beautiful eyes streaming with tears. "I wanted to die, Elias. I wanted to die with you."
"I know," I said, wiping her tears with my thumbs. "But we don't have time. I'm here to get the blackmail files. We are going to destroy him, Clara. But I need you to be strong for just a little longer."
"Elias!" Marcus's panicked voice exploded in my earpiece. "Abort! Abort! Julian's private security team just overrode my loop! They're coming up the elevators! Six heavily armed men. You need to get out of there NOW!"
The magnetic decryptor on the safe suddenly beeped green. The heavy metal door popped open.
"Clara, you need to go back to bed. Pretend you heard nothing," I commanded, grabbing the thick manila folders and a silver hard drive from the safe, shoving them into my waterproof bag.
"No! They'll kill you!" she panicked.
"I've survived worse," I promised, giving her one last, desperate kiss. "Wait for me."
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Heavy boots slammed against the marble hallway outside the office. The doorknob violently twisted. I sprinted toward the shattered window, leaping out into the stormy abyss just as the office door was kicked open. Bullets shattered the remaining glass, whistling past my ears as I rapidly rappelled down the side of the building into the dark, stormy night.
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