Chapter 47 - Breach and Extraction
The terminal screen went pitch black for one agonizing heartbeat. Then, with a loud, pneumatic hiss that blew a cloud of acrid grey smoke across the room, the massive internal deadbolts on the vault doors violently retracted.
The heavy steel doors swung outward into the corridor, revealing the blinding glare of high-intensity tactical flashlights cutting through the thick, swirling steam of the hallway.
"Move, move, move!" Liam roared, instantly dropping to one knee and firing a suppression burst into the upper doorframe to blind whoever was waiting on the other side.
Shouts of surprise echoed from the corridor as heavy tactical boots scrambled on the concrete. Jason didn't hesitate; he scooped up Erica’s portable terminal, slung his carbine across his chest, and grabbed Erica by the arm, hauling her forward through the smoke-filled doorway.
"Clear left!" Jason shouted, stepping out into the corridor and snapping off two quick shots into the casing of a remote security turret that was pivoting down from the ceiling. The turret sparked violently and went dead.
Liam took point, leading them at a dead sprint down the damp, winding corridors of Level 3. Behind them, the muffled sound of Viktor’s voice faded into the background, lost beneath the roar of the ventilation alarms and the sound of pursuing footsteps closing the gap.
"The main maintenance shaft is fifty meters ahead," Erica panted, clutching her side as she struggled to keep pace. "It leads directly out to the lower cliff ledge where we left the RHIB."
"They've cut off our retreat to the sea," Liam warned over his shoulder, sliding to a halt at a three-way intersection. "Look at the floor—thermal tripwires. They anticipated we'd take the lower exit."
Jason dropped low, sweeping his tactical flashlight along the floorboards. Fine, nearly invisible wire glinted just inches above the concrete, connected to a cluster of claymore mines mounted on the side wall.
"Don't touch it," Jason whispered, pulling a small multi-tool from his tactical vest. "Erica, can you interface with the local security node and disarm the proximity triggers?"
Erica dropped to her knees beside the junction box on the wall, her hands shaking as she plugged her backup cable into the port. "The system is flooded with feedback from the data purge... give me ten seconds... just ten seconds!"
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Behind them, the beam of a tactical flashlight swept around the corridor bend. A sharp voice barked out in English, laced with an unmistakable private security accent: "Target sighted at intersection! Flush them out!"
The first rifle round ricocheted off the concrete wall just inches above Jason’s head, showering them in white-hot sparks.
