Chapter 6 - Smoke and Mirrors
The second-floor hallway of the Lake Michigan safe house smelled of burning copper and sulfur.
A team of four professional operators in matte-black tactical gear moved with terrifying efficiency, clearing rooms one by one with suppressed submachine guns. They were lead by Marcus Vance—no relation to Julian, but a ruthless enforcer who had served as the Sterling family's shadow for over a decade.
"Sweep the lower level," Marcus ordered into his shoulder radio, his voice a harsh rasp. "Senator wants both of them alive if possible. If not, make it look like a tragic electrical fire."
They reached the heavy steel reinforced door of the basement tech room. The keypad was dark, its circuits fried by an internal surge.
"Blow the hinges," Marcus gestured to the lead operator.
The operator planted a shaped explosive charge against the reinforced steel hinges, stepping back and clicking the detonator.
Thump.
The explosion was muffled by the thick concrete walls, but the heavy steel door groaned, buckling inward with a screech of tortured metal. The operators kicked the door open, rifles raised, flooding the dark room with tactical flashlight beams.
The room was empty.
Rows of server towers hummed quietly, their blue lights blinking in the smoke-filled air. In the center of the room, Julian’s laptop sat open on the main terminal, displaying a countdown timer that read 00:10... 00:09...
"Trap!" Marcus roared, realizing too late. "Get out!"
Before the first operator could turn toward the exit, the overhead ceiling vents hissed violently. High-pressure nozzles released a massive cloud of dense, white chemical foam—not water, but a specialized fire-suppressant halon gas mixture designed to strip the oxygen from a sealed room in seconds.
The heavy steel door slammed shut automatically from the outside, its pneumatic locks engaging with a heavy, final clack.
Inside the basement vault, the tactical team began coughing violently, dropping their weapons as the oxygen vanished.
Three floors above, Julian Vance stood in the glass-walled penthouse living room, watching the security feed of the basement trap through his encrypted tablet. Beside him stood Mara, her arms crossed over her chest, watching the mercenaries struggle against the locked doors on screen.
"That was remarkably efficient," Julian remarked, turning his gaze toward her. "You have a talent for tactical warfare, Miss Bennett. Remind me never to get on your bad side over a restaurant tab."
"You already did," Mara replied smoothly, though a faint smile played on her lips. "You dragged me into a billionaire blood feud. I expect hazard pay."
Julian walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking out into the stormy night where the red tail lights of the two black SUVs were beginning to reverse down the winding cliffside road in a desperate retreat.
"Hazard pay approved," Julian said, his voice turning serious as he pulled a secure satellite phone from his pocket. "Now that Sterling’s cleanup crew is neutralized, we have roughly three hours before the Senator realizes his enforcers aren't answering their radios. We’re going to Lake Forest."
Mara looked at him, her eyes flashing with a dangerous, electric excitement. The invisible waitress was gone for good.
May you like
"Let’s go find that ledger," Mara said.
---
