Chapter 8 - Shifting Alliances
The warehouse yard erupted into a fierce firefight. Stolen military rifles clapped against the concrete walls as Marcus's mercenaries tried to hold off the elite special forces unit. I threw my door open, drawing my standard-issue sidearm, and moved behind the cover of the SUV's engine block.
"Vance, suppress the left flank!" I shouted over the din of gunfire.
"On it, General!" Vance replied, firing a burst from his rifle that pinned down two mercenaries near the loading dock.
I saw a man in a expensive leather jacket running toward the rear exit of the warehouse, carrying a heavy metal briefcase. It was Marcus. He was trying to escape through the old railway tracks with the encryption drive.
I didn't hesitate. I sprinted across the open yard, moving with the speed and agility that had kept me alive through three tours of duty. Bullets snapped past my ears, kicking up dust from the asphalt, but I kept my focus locked on the target.
I cut through a side door into the dark, echoing interior of the warehouse. The air smelled of oil, rust, and gunpowder. I heard the frantic footsteps of Marcus ahead of me, heading up a metal catwalk.
"Stop right there, Marcus!" I yelled, my voice echoing off the corrugated steel walls.
Marcus spun around on the catwalk, raising a compact submachine gun. Before he could pull the trigger, a shot echoed from the shadows below, striking Marcus directly in the shoulder. He dropped his weapon with a scream, clutching his arm, the briefcase tumbling over the railing and slamming onto the concrete floor below.
I lowered my weapon in surprise as a figure stepped out from behind a stack of shipping crates. It was a police officer—but not one of my men. It was Officer Miller, a young rookie from the Ashford department whom Frank had always treated like garbage.
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"General Voss," Miller said, his breath coming in short gasps, his gun still raised. "Frank told me to guard this perimeter an hour ago. But I heard everything on the radio dispatch. I knew Frank was dirty. I wanted to help stop this."
I looked at the young officer, then at the briefcase containing the drive. "Good shooting, Officer Miller. Secure that briefcase."
