Chapter 5 - The Ambush at Tenth Street
"Quiet," Cassian hissed, lunging across the room to snap the laptop lid shut.
He drew a heavy, suppressed automatic pistol from his waistband—a weapon he must have retrieved from a hidden cache inside the garage—and motioned for Delaney to duck behind a heavy metal workbench in the corner.
The lock clicked again, followed by the muffled creak of reinforced wood giving way. Heavy, deliberate footsteps crossed the threshold. Two men, dressed in tactical black with no insignia, moved into the narrow hallway with military precision. Their weapon flashlights cut beams through the dim interior dust.
"Clear," the first one muttered into a comm-link clipped to his collar.
"Check the back rooms," a cold voice crackled through the radio earpiece—Victor Raldi himself, coordinating remotely.
Delaney held her breath, her hand clamped tightly over her mouth. Her heart pounded so loudly she was certain the intruders could hear it echoing off the concrete floor. She glanced sideways at Cassian. He was crouched beside the workbench, his breathing slow and controlled, his pistol raised and aimed directly at the doorway.
The first operative stepped into the main room, his flashlight sweeping across the desk, lingering on the battered laptop.
"Boss, we found the rig. Laptop’s warm. They were just here."
"Find them," Raldi’s voice commanded. "And if the girl is with him, make sure there are no witnesses this time."
Cassian didn't wait for them to advance further. In a flash of fluid motion, he stepped out from behind the workbench, raised his weapon, and fired twice with suppressed precision. The first operative dropped instantly, a clean neutralizing shot to the shoulder armor that dropped him to his knees; the second operative spun around, raising his rifle, but Cassian closed the distance in a heartbeat, slamming the butt of his pistol against the man's temple. The operative collapsed unconscious onto the floor.
"Move!" Cassian barked, grabbing Delaney by the arm and hauling her toward a narrow utility exit at the back of the garage.
They burst out into the damp, rain-slicked alleyway just as a second team of guards rounded the corner from the main street, shouting orders and opening fire. Bullets ricocheted off the brick walls, sending sparks flying into the puddles around their feet.
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"This way!" Delaney yelled, remembering the layout of the old commercial district. She pulled Cassian toward a rusted iron fire escape ladder dangling three feet above the ground.
She leaped, caught the bottom rung, and hauled herself up with surprising strength, extending a hand down to pull Cassian behind her as lead slugs tore into the siding just inches away. They scrambled up to the roof, vaulted across a narrow gap between buildings, and plunged down into the labyrinthine network of municipal steam tunnels running beneath the city.
