Chapter 11
The dispatcher on the other end of the secure satellite line paused for only a fraction of a second before the tone of the voice shifted from automated neutrality to urgent operational command. "Confirmation received, Mr. Vance. Maritime enforcement units and federal tactical teams are already en route to the south-side docks based on prior intelligence intercepts. We are rerouting a chopper to your rooftop coordinates now. Hold your position for three minutes."
"Make it two," Lorenzo barked back, ending the call and sliding the phone into his pocket.
The heavy double doors of the guest suite shuddered violently as a loud explosion tore through the lock. The wooden panels splintered inward, the makeshift barricade of mahogany furniture sliding across the carpet under the force of the blast. Thick grey smoke billowed into the room, smelling of sulfur and burnt lacquer. Through the haze, the dark silhouettes of Victor’s armed operatives appeared in the shattered doorway, their assault rifles raised and sweeping the room.
"Flush them out!" Victor’s voice commanded from the hallway behind them.
Lorenzo didn't hesitate. He drew his pistol, taking a steady, tactical stance behind the heavy oak bed frame, squeezing off three precise rounds that forced the leading operatives to dive back into the corridor for cover. Glass shattered as a return volley punched through the bedroom windows, letting the howling exterior wind fan the growing flames near the doorway.
"Lorenzo!" Elena screamed, pointing toward the ceiling as a heavy thud vibrated through the structure above them.
The sound of massive rotor blades cutting through the night air filled the penthouse, shaking the crystal chandelier remnants and rattling the windows. The federal tactical chopper had arrived on the rooftop helipad directly above the master suite.
"Now!" Lorenzo yelled, grabbing Elena’s hand and hauling her toward the private spiral staircase that led straight up to the roof from the master suite's loft.
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They raced up the spiraling metal steps, bullets chipping the wrought-iron railing inches from their hands. Lorenzo fired two suppressive shots backward down the stairwell, slowing their pursuers just enough to reach the heavy steel roof hatch. He threw his weight against the release bar, shoving the hatch outward into the biting night wind.
Bright searchlights cut through the swirling fog as a heavily armored tactical helicopter hovered just ten feet above the roof platform. Fully geared federal agents dropped fast-ropes onto the concrete surface, their weapons drawn and secured.
