Chapter 7 - Inside the Hangar
The Mercedes skidded to a halt inside the cavernous interior of Hangar 4, spraying water across the polished concrete floor. The massive sliding doors began to close behind them automatically, sealing off the outside storm.
Before the vehicle had even fully settled on its suspension, Marcus was out of the driver’s side door, his sidearm drawn and raised.
“Move, move, move!” Marcus commanded sharply.
Arthur and Julian poured out from the back seat, weapons in hand, taking up tactical positions behind the reinforced doors of the car. Claire remained in the front passenger seat, fingers flying across the laptop Marcus had left behind, hacking directly into the hangar’s local network terminal.
From the upper catwalks encircling the hangar, shouts echoed down from the metal grating.
“Intruders! Drop your weapons!”
A hail of gunfire erupted from above. Bullets ricocheted off the concrete and sparked violently against the body of the Mercedes. Shards of glass rained down as the rear window shattered.
“Suppressing fire!” Julian yelled, lifting his weapon and firing a controlled burst toward the catwalk, forcing the guards above to duck behind the steel railings.
Marcus didn't hesitate. He sprinted toward a service ladder leading directly up to the second-level administrative offices, moving with an almost unnatural agility. He hauled himself up the rungs, disappearing into the shadows of the upper gantry just as another wave of gunfire chewed up the space he had occupied a second prior.
Down below, Arthur kept his weapon trained on the side exits, his face a mask of cold fury. “Claire, how much longer on that firewall?”
“Almost there!” Claire shouted back, her eyes locked on the scrolling lines of code as the terminal bypass finally punched through the primary security encryption. “Got it! I’ve locked all external communication relays. They can’t transmit any data out of this facility.”
Suddenly, the heavy metal door at the far end of the hangar hissed open.
A tall figure stepped out from the shadows of the private office suite, flanked by two heavily armed guards.
It was Charles Sterling.
He looked older than he had five years ago, his hair streaked with gray, his eyes hardened by years of exile and bitter resentment. But the arrogant smirk playing on his lips was unmistakable.
“Well, well, well,” Charles called out, his voice echoing loudly across the cavernous hangar. “Father. I must admit, I didn't think you had the stomach to track me down yourself.”
Arthur stepped out from behind the Mercedes, lowering his weapon slightly, his eyes burning with a mixture of grief and absolute rage.
“You died in that plane crash, Charles,” Arthur said, his voice trembling with suppressed fury. “We mourned you. We buried an empty casket for you.”
“A necessary sacrifice, dear brother,” Charles laughed, spreading his arms wide as if welcoming them to a grand theater production. “Do you have any idea how suffocating the corporate boardrooms are? How exhausting it is to live in your shadow? The crash gave me freedom. And tonight, it gives me your empire.”
“You didn't win, Charles,” Julian shouted from behind his grandfather, raising his rifle. “Your little plan is over. Vanessa is locked up, your extraction team failed, and we have the financial ledgers.”
Charles’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, his eyes darting toward the open door of the office suite where his primary server racks hummed. Then, his expression hardened into cold malice.
“You think a few spreadsheets matter?” Charles sneered, reaching inside his jacket and pulling out a detonator with a glowing red LED light. “Even if you have the files, you can't prosecute a ghost if there’s nothing left of this facility to investigate.”
Julian froze, his finger tightening on the trigger. “You wouldn't.”
“Try me,” Charles hissed, his thumb hovering over the activation switch.
May you like
Before Charles could press the button, a heavy, metallic thud echoed from the gantry directly above him.
Charles looked up—just in time to see a dark figure drop silently from the catwalk overhead, landing squarely on top of him with bone-crushing force.
