Chapter 10 - The Siege of Berth 14
The blast wave knocked Declan and Marcus off their feet as smoke and blinding white tactical flashlights flooded the cavernous warehouse from the main entrance.
"Contact! Multiple units, heavy assault gear!" Marcus shouted, rolling behind a row of wooden crates and drawing his revolver as a volley of automatic gunfire chewed through the air above them.
Through the swirling smoke and debris, a familiar figure stepped into the light, flanked by a dozen heavily armed operatives in black tactical gear. Graham Pike adjusted his suit jacket, a cold, triumphant smile playing across his lips as he surveyed the scene.
"Family reunions are always so touching," Graham called out, his voice echoing off the corrugated metal walls. He raised his sidearm, pointing it directly at Aaron's chest. "Too bad you couldn't stay dead, Aaron. It would have saved us all a tremendous amount of paperwork."
Aaron didn't flinch. Instead, a calm, chilling smile spread across his face as he reached down and pressed a heavy red toggle switch mounted beneath the wooden worktable.
"Paperwork is overrated, Graham," Aaron said softly. "Especially when the audit is already finished."
With a sudden, thunderous roar, the entire floor of the cold-storage vault behind Graham swung open on heavy hydraulic hinges, revealing not a dead-end room, but a massive array of blinking servers and recording consoles wired directly into the national law enforcement database and the syndicate's central financial ledger. Every wire, every offshore transfer, and every confession Graham had spoken over the encrypted comm-links for the past four years was currently streaming live to every federal agency and regional captain in the city.
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Graham's triumphant smile vanished instantly, replaced by a sudden flash of pure, unadulterated panic. He swung his weapon toward Aaron, but before he could pull the trigger, Declan moved with the blinding speed of a predator unleashed.
With a single, fluid motion, Declan vaulted over the wooden table, tackling Graham hard to the concrete floor just as a deafening volley of crossfire erupted across the warehouse.
