Chapter 29 - Blood In The Server Room
The moment they stepped into the cavernous server hub, a freezing draft hit their faces. Amidst the endless aisles of humming mainframes, an elite battalion of Vance’s private mercenaries emerged from the shadows. Dozens of crimson laser sights snapped into existence, painting Marcus, Claire, and El Sombra’s chests. The heavy vault doors slammed shut behind them with a definitive, mechanical boom, permanently sealing their only exit.
A slow, mocking applause echoed through the room. Director Vance stepped out from behind a server rack, flanked by heavy infantry. "Remarkable, Marcus," Vance sneered. "You actually walked right into your own coffin."
Marcus didn't waste a single millisecond on dialogue. He violently kicked a massive steel diagnostic console into the aisle to create immediate cover, simultaneously raising his rifle and pulling the trigger.
Absolute chaos erupted. The roar of automatic gunfire shattered the sterile silence. El Sombra let out a terrifying, guttural battle cry. The scarred assassin drew twin submachine guns and charged directly into the fatal funnel, absorbing two bullet impacts to his shoulder without breaking stride. He became a human meat shield, leaping into close-quarters combat with his pitch-black knife, painting the pristine white floor with mercenary blood.
Marcus provided flawless, lethal covering fire, systematically executing targets to clear a path for Claire to the master terminal. "Plug the drive in! Trigger the global broadcast!" Marcus roared, snapping his rifle up to put a bullet straight through the visor of a heavy gunner pushing their flank. A stray round grazed Marcus’s bicep, tearing through his jacket and flesh, but he didn't even flinch.
Claire’s hands were slick with sweat and adrenaline, but they didn't shake. She slammed the titanium cylinder into the core port. The progress bar flashed on the massive screen: 10%... 30%...
Sirens wailed. Vance panicked, screaming at his men to destroy the console, but the impenetrable defensive wall forged by Marcus and the psychotic fury of El Sombra completely stonewalled their advance. 70%... 90%...
"Claire, take the maintenance stairs to the roof! The loyalist extraction chopper is waiting! I’ll hold them here!" Marcus commanded, snapping a mercenary's neck with brutal efficiency.
"I'm not leaving you!" Claire cried over the deafening gunfire.
100%. The screen flashed brilliant green. The data was out. The entirety of the Beaumont money-laundering empire and Vance’s treason had just been beamed to every major intelligence agency on earth. The cartel was dead.
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"Run, Claire! That is a direct order!" Marcus bellowed.
Looking at her father and El Sombra fighting like gods of war against an impossible tide, Claire swallowed her tears, turned on her heel, and sprinted for the roof access stairwell.
