Chapter 7: Holding the Line
The heavy metal door groaned under the intense heat of the thermic lance, glowing a dull cherry-red along its lower perimeter. Sparks showered across the concrete floor as the cutting torch carved a precise, smoking circle through six inches of reinforced alloy. Evelyn crouched behind a heavy concrete pillar twenty feet from the entrance, her assault rifle braced against her shoulder, her breathing steady and controlled. She could hear the muffled shouts of heavily armed operatives outside, coordinating their breach formation.
""Ten percent upload complete,"" Thorne called out from the console, his fingers hammering the keys with frantic precision while his eyes darted between the progress bar and the smoking door. ""Keep holding them off, Evelyn! The proxy server is starting to mirror the files!""
With a dull, industrial thud, the circular steel cutout kicked inward, collapsing onto the bunker floor with a heavy crash of concrete dust and sparks. Through the smoking breach, three tactical operatives in matte-black armor and night-vision rigs surged into the room, their weapons raised in a tight, practiced sweep.
Evelyn did not hesitate. She fired a controlled three-round burst that caught the lead operative in the reinforced ceramic plating of his chest rig, dropping him instantly to the floor while the other two scattered for cover behind the server racks. Return fire shattered the concrete pillar inches from Evelyn’s head, sending sharp shards of stone ricocheting across the room.
""You're out of your depth, Sergeant!"" a modulated voice barked from behind the cover of the server bank. ""Surrender the drive and the girl, and we guarantee extraction!""
""Not a chance in hell!"" Evelyn shouted back, leaning out from her position to lay down suppressing fire that kept the operatives pinned behind the steel server cabinets.
She glanced back at the console. The progress bar blinked furiously. *Forty percent.*
The operative on the right side of the room attempted a flanking maneuver, rolling out from behind a stack of supply crates with his weapon leveled directly at Evelyn's position. Before he could squeeze the trigger, a sharp crack echoed through the bunker. Thorne had abandoned the console for a split second, firing his service pistol from behind the desk. The round struck the operative's shoulder guard, spinning him around and causing his rifle fire to go wide, chewing harmlessly into the ceiling tiles.
Evelyn capitalized on the distraction, closing the distance and neutralizing the threat with a swift, decisive strike. But the delay cost them precious seconds. The third operative lunged forward, tossing a flash-bang grenade directly into the center of the room.
""Flash-bang!"" Evelyn screamed, throwing herself flat against the floor and covering her eyes and ears just as the magnesium charge detonated with a blinding white flash and a concussive shockwave that rattled her teeth.
As her vision swam with blinding afterimages and a high-pitched ringing pierced her ears, Evelyn forced herself back to her feet, shaking off the disorientation through pure willpower. She scanned the room through the haze of smoke. The final operative was advancing toward the console where Thorne lay stunned against the floor, his pistol knocked out of reach.
""Eighty percent!"" Thorne choked out, blood trickling from his temple where he had struck the desk during the explosion.
May you like
The operative raised his carbine, aiming directly at Thorne’s chest. Evelyn raised her rifle, but the distance and her blurred vision made a clean shot impossible without hitting Thorne. With a fierce cry, she hurled her tactical knife. The blade caught the operative's wrist, deflecting his muzzle upward just as he pulled the trigger. The bullet buried itself harmlessly into the concrete ceiling.
Before the operative could recover, Evelyn closed the gap, delivering a devastating close-quarters strike that sent him crashing unconscious to the floor.
