Chapter 9 - The River Facility
The van spun in a terrifying three-hundred-degree arc before plunging off the shoulder of the highway, crashing through a chain-link fence and coming to a violent halt in a muddy industrial yard filled with shipping containers.
Steam hissed from the crumpled hood. The engine died with a wet cough.
"Out, out, out!" Ethan shouted, kicking his door open and pulling me out just as a hail of bullets shredded the passenger window where I had been sitting a second before.
We scrambled behind a towering stack of rusted steel shipping containers, the rain stinging our faces as we caught our breath. The two unmarked SUVs pulled up outside the broken fence, their doors slamming shut as heavily armed operatives fanned out into the container yard, flashlights cutting sharp beams through the dark, rainy night.
"We're pinned," I whispered, unholstering the pistol I had taken from the unconscious guard in the van. "There's no other way out of this yard. It's a dead end on the riverbank."
"Not a dead end," Ethan said, pointing toward a massive corrugated steel warehouse standing fifty yards away, its loading bay doors slightly ajar. "That's the old naval logistics depot. It connects to the old drainage tunnels running directly beneath the District."
"And you think they're unlocked?"
"Only one way to find out," Ethan replied, offering me a grim, steady smile. "Ready, Whitaker?"
"Born ready, Colonel."
We broke cover on his count, sprinting toward the warehouse as a fresh stream of gunfire erupted behind us. Bullets pinged off the metal containers, throwing up sparks in the dark. I returned fire over my shoulder, catching the lead pursuer in the shoulder and forcing the others to dive for cover.
We reached the loading bay, slammed our weight against the heavy steel door, and slipped inside into the pitch-black interior, locking the heavy deadbolt behind us just as the first boots hammered against the exterior metal.
The warehouse was vast, echoing, and smelled of salt water, rust, and old oil.
"Over here," Ethan whispered, guiding me toward a recessed maintenance stairwell that descended into the concrete bowels of the facility.
May you like
As we hit the top step, the corrugated metal doors behind us gave way with a deafening screech of rending steel and heavy boots hitting the concrete floor.
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