Chapter 6 - The Corridor Ambush
The heavy steel door of the locker room slammed inward with a deafening crash as a concussion grenade rolled across the concrete floor. Before Vance Jr. could pull the trigger on his leveled pistol, Maya tackled him hard to the side, driving him into the wooden benches as the flashbang detonated with a blinding white flare and a concussive shockwave that rattled their teeth.
Thomas didn't hesitate. Blinded and disoriented by the residual ringing in his ears, he lunged through the thick haze of smoke toward the open hallway, his combat boots sliding across the slick floor. The grey brick walls of the corridor blurred past as automatic gunfire chewed through the drywall behind him, sending white plaster dust raining down like snow.
He slid hard around the corner, slamming his shoulder into the brickwork to steady himself. He pulled his standard-issue sidearm from its holster, checking the chamber by touch alone. His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird, but his hands were steady—years of muscle memory overriding panic.
Heavy tactical boots thudded down the hallway, accompanied by the metallic clinking of full combat gear. Two operators in unmarked black uniforms rounded the corner, their assault rifles raised and sweeping the sector with ruthless efficiency. Thomas didn't give them time to acquire targets; he stepped out from cover and fired three rapid shots down the narrow corridor.
The lead operator took a round to the ceramic plate of his vest, stumbling backward into his partner and creating enough chaos for Thomas to duck back behind a structural concrete pillar.
"Rheinhardt! Get down!" Maya’s voice cut sharply through the gunfire from behind him.
She vaulted out of the locker room doorway, rolling smoothly across the floor and coming up in a kneeling firing stance. She squeezed off two controlled shots, striking the trailing operator in the shoulder and dropping him instantly. The remaining assailant scrambled backward around the corner, firing blindly into the wall.
"They're not base security!" Maya yelled over the echoing gunfire, pressing her back against the pillar beside Thomas. "Those are private contractors from the Blackwood syndicate! Vance sold us out to cover his own tracks!"
Thomas wiped a mixture of sweat and plaster dust from the cut on his forehead, his breathing coming in heavy, ragged gasps. He looked at Maya, seeing the same fierce resolve in her eyes that he had seen on the training mat. The rivalry between them was gone, burned away by the harsh reality of live ammunition.
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"I tried to tell you," Thomas panted, checking his magazine. "Vance isn't looking for the drive. He's trying to erase everyone who was on the ground in Berlin. We need to reach the motor pool before they lock down the subterranean transit lines."
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