Chapter 10
The blast wave knocked Marcus off his feet, sending the cylindrical container clattering across the wet pavement toward the rear wheel of an unmarked SUV. Smoke and dense grey dust billowed from the second-story window of the archives building, turning the blinding tactical lights into eerie, diffused pillars of orange and white.
"Take cover! Active threat!" the tactical team leader roared, abandoning his focus on Marcus as chaos erupted among the armed agents.
Bullets began to whiz through the air, ricocheting off the brick pillars with sharp, whining cracks. But they weren't firing at Marcus. The return fire was coming from the roof of the adjacent parking garage across the alley—a sniper providing heavy, suppressing fire directly into Sterling’s tactical unit.
Marcus scrambled across the concrete, ignoring the sharp sting of glass fragments cutting into his palms, and reached for Vance. He grabbed the older officer by the collar of his uniform shirt, hauling him upright behind the reinforced steel bumper of the SUV.
"Who's on the roof?" Vance coughed, spitting blood onto the asphalt as he clutched his bruised shoulder.
"I don't know!" Marcus yelled over the deafening chatter of automatic gunfire. "Are you hit?"
"Just pride!" Vance grunted, pulling his service pistol from his holster with a shaky hand. "Look at the loading dock door!"
Through the settling smoke, the heavy rolling door of the archives was being forced open from the inside by a hydraulic rescue tool. A figure in a black tactical windbreaker stepped out into the melee, tossing a smoking flashbang grenade directly toward Sterling’s position.
The flashbang detonated with a blinding white crack and a concussive shockwave that sent three of Sterling’s elite guards sprawling across the deck. Sterling himself stumbled backward, shielding his eyes, his tailored suit instantly ruined by soot and grime.
"Get in!" the figure shouted, waving frantically from the dark interior of the archives service elevator.
Marcus didn't hesitate. He grabbed Vance by the arm, hoisting the older man forward. Together, they dove through the sliding doors of the freight elevator just as the cable system groaned beneath an emergency override command.
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The heavy steel doors slammed shut, cutting off the sound of gunfire and plunging them into absolute darkness, save for the emergency battery-backup light glowing a pale, sickly yellow.
As the elevator began a rapid, sickening descent deep into the sub-basements of the municipal building, Marcus looked up at their unexpected savior. The woman pulled down her tactical balaclava, revealing the sharp, freckled face and piercing blue eyes of Officer Miller.
