Chapter 12 - The Unmarked Reinforcements
The two black armored vans slid to a violent halt on the asphalt, blocking both ends of the suburban cul-de-sac and trapping everyone between the two identical houses.
Heavy steel doors slammed open simultaneously, and a dozen operatives clad in unmarked matte-black tactical gear spilled out onto the street.
They carried no agency badges, wearing only featureless tactical vests and helmets with darkened visors.
"Drop your weapons! All of us!" Victor Vance shouted, raising his own pistol toward the newly arrived team, but hesitation paralyzed his command.
Elena didn't hesitate. She grabbed Maya by the shoulder and shoved her hard behind the cover of the brick porch pillar of her own house.
"Secure the hard drive!" Judge Robert Sterling yelled from across the driveway, his polite demeanor instantly vanishing into a sharp, barking command.
The leading tactical operative raised a suppressed rifle and fired a single round directly into the siding above Elena's head.
Wood splinters rained down over her hair as she dove behind the concrete steps, returning fire with two precise shots that shattered the approaching operative's knee armor.
The man dropped to the pavement with a muffled grunt, but the rest of the squad advanced with relentless, mechanical precision.
"Victor! Your tactical channel!" Elena yelled over the gunfire, pressing her back against the brick wall. "Call off your internal security!"
"They aren't my men, Claire!" Victor shouted back, pinned behind the hood of his sedan as bullets sparked off the metal body. "They're private contractors hired directly by the oversight board!"
From the porch of Number 44, Judge Robert Sterling picked up his teacup once more, sipping calmly as the chaos unfolded around him.
"You should have stayed a desk analyst, Claire," Robert called out over the gunfire. "You were never meant to see behind the curtain."
Maya peeked out from behind the pillar, her hand trembling as she pointed toward a small utility box mounted on the side of the judge's house.
"The main server!" Maya shouted to Elena. "If you cut the power to the local grid, their encrypted radios go dead!"
Elena took a deep, steadying breath, calculating the distance across the open driveway while enemy rounds chewed up the grass at her feet.
She pulled a flash-bang grenade from her tactical vest, pulled the pin with her teeth, and hurled it with pinpoint accuracy toward the center of the approaching tactical squad.
A blinding white flash and a deafening concussion shook the cul-de-sac, plunging the attackers into momentary disorientation.
May you like
Elena bolted across the open asphalt, sprinting directly toward the utility box on the side of the judge's house.
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