Chapter 9 - The Scottsdale Safehouse
The heavily fortified safehouse tucked away in the foothills of Scottsdale looked like a modest, luxury desert ranch from the outside, complete with native cacti and Spanish tile roofing.
Inside, however, it was a high-tech federal command post.
Director Harrison stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the glittering lights of the Phoenix valley below, swirling a glass of scotch as he watched the live satellite feed of the Reyes estate burning in the distance.
“Report from the strike team?” Harrison asked without turning around.
A nervous junior aide stationed at the encryption terminal swallowed hard, his fingers flying across the keyboard. “Sir... tactical reports indicate the main house was cleared, but... but Reyes and the federal agent, Vance, weren't among the detained. They vanished into the subterranean drainage network before the breaching charges went off.”
Harrison’s hand tightened around his crystal glass so hard his knuckles turned white. “Vanished? It’s a concrete dead-end! Tear the desert apart until you find their bodies. I want this wrapped up before the sun comes up, or the oversight committee will start asking questions about why we deployed an unauthorized strike force against a legitimate corporate citizen.”
Before the aide could answer, the heavy steel-reinforced front door of the safehouse didn't just open—it blew inward with a deafening crash.
Smoke grenades rolled across the tiled foyer, venting thick, blinding white smoke that instantly triggered the overhead fire sprinklers.
“Breach! Breach!” shouting erupted from the security detail stationed in the hallway.
Before the guards could raise their rifles, a figure stepped through the smoke, moving with swift, terrifying precision. A pair of heavy tactical flashbangs sailed into the center room, followed by the sharp, undeniable sound of a suppressed submachine gun neutralizing the perimeter guards in three precise, non-lethal leg shots.
Harrison whipped around, dropping his glass, his hand diving frantically for the service pistol holstered on his desk.
“Don't bother, Harrison,” a cool, steady voice echoed through the smoke.
Damon Reyes stepped out of the haze, his clothing stained with desert dust and soot, his Glock 19 aimed squarely at the center of the Director’s chest. Right behind him strode Evelyn Vance, her shotgun resting comfortably across her shoulder, followed by four armed state troopers bearing federal marshals' insignia.
Harrison froze, his face draining of all color, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
“Reyes... you’re insane,” Harrison stammered, backing up against the glass window. “You’re attacking a federal director! You’ll be hunted for the rest of your life!”
“I’m not attacking you, Harrison,” Damon said, walking slowly across the room until he stood two feet away from the trembling director. He reached into his pocket and dropped the encrypted flash drive onto the mahogany desk. “I’m executing a citizen’s arrest on behalf of the United States Senate.”
The front door swung wide open again, and stepping into the soaked, smoke-filled room with an expression of cold, unyielding triumph was Senator Eleanor Sterling, flanked by two armed federal marshals.
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“Well, Mr. Reyes,” the Senator said, looking down at the flash drive on the desk before shifting her sharp gaze to the terrified director. “It seems you keep your promises. Director Harrison, you’re relieved of duty.”
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