Chapter 15 - The Philadelphia Dossier
The courtyard erupted into chaos.
The Vanguard commander barked an order, and three mercenaries opened fire toward the portico. But Naomi was already moving. She dropped into a slide across the rain-slicked marble, using the heavy stone bases of the classical statues as cover. The stone exploded into flying dust and splinters under the barrage of automatic fire.
*Bang! Bang!*
From the second-story terrace, Ethan fired two precisely aimed rounds. The first struck the engine block of Sterling’s heavy SUV, rupturing the fuel line with a hiss of steam and sparks. The second took out the front tire of the lead towncar, cutting off their escape route.
"Suppress the balcony!" the commander shouted, but before his men could adjust their angles, Naomi emerged from behind a marble fountain.
Her Glock fired three rapid, deafening shots. The commander's weapon flew from his hands as two rounds pierced his shoulders, spinning him into the mud. The remaining mercenaries hesitated—a fatal mistake in close-quarters combat.
Naomi closed the distance with terrifying velocity. She swept the legs out from under the closest guard, using his momentum to flip him onto the gravel before delivering a clean, concussive blow to his jaw. She pivoted, catching the arm of the third guard as he swung a tactical combat knife, reversing the blade in mid-air and plunging the handle into his sternum, knocking all the air from his lungs.
Within forty seconds, the courtyard was silent except for the drumming rain and the whimpering of Judge Sterling.
Sterling was on his knees beside the ruined SUV, his hands held over his head in pathetic terror. Vanessa had collapsed against the passenger door, her makeup running down her face in dark streaks, her arrogant sneer replaced by petrified weeping.
"Don't... don't shoot!" Sterling begged, his voice cracking. "I'll give you whatever you want! Money, immunity, I'll sign anything! Just don't let her kill me!"
Ethan descended the grand stone steps, the rain soaking his dark suit, his weapon held firmly in one hand. He walked until he stood beside Naomi, whose breathing was steady, her eyes cold as polished obsidian.
"You came to my home, Sterling," Ethan said, his voice dropping into a register of terrifying calm. "You brought illegal arms, breached my property, and attempted to assassinate Miss Reyes and my household staff. That isn't a civil dispute. That is treason and domestic terrorism."
"I was framed!" Sterling blubbered, pointing a trembling finger at the unconscious commander. "They approached me! They told me they could erase the records Margaret Vance had! They said they just needed an excuse to enter the grounds!"
Naomi stepped forward, crouching down until her face was inches from Sterling’s. The judge shrank back, terrified of the lethal calm in her dark eyes.
"Who contacted you, Sterling?" Naomi asked, her voice dangerously soft. "Give me the name."
"I... I don't know his real name!" Sterling stammered, tears mixing with the rain on his cheeks. "He called himself 'The Architect.' He said he was Vance’s predecessor in Philadelphia. He had burned scars across his throat and a mechanical cadence to his speech!"
Naomi’s breath hitched slightly. The burned scars. The reconstructed throat.
Marcus Cole.
"Where is he?" she demanded, grabbing Sterling by his expensive lapels and hauling him forward with enough force to lift him off his knees. "Where is Cole operating from?!"
"The old maritime shipping yards in Boston!" Sterling sobbed. "Pier 44! That's where they unloaded the tactical gear! He's monitoring this operation from an offshore freighter! That's all I know, I swear to God that's all I know!"
Naomi released him, letting him slump into the mud like a discarded sack of wet cloth. She turned to Ethan, their eyes meeting in the dim glow of the security lamps.
"Pier 44," Ethan murmured. "Whitmore Logistics owns the lease on Pier 42 right beside it. I have unrestricted access to the surveillance grid and harbor authority manifests."
"Then we have forty-eight hours before Cole realizes this strike team failed and relocates," Naomi said.
Before Ethan could respond, the wail of sirens cut through the distant coastal mist. Flashing blue and red lights reflected off the rain-drenched trees down the driveway.
Margaret Vance had sent the state police and federal authorities to mop up the mess.
Ethan looked down at Judge Sterling, then at Vanessa, who was staring at Naomi as if she were an otherworldly demon.
May you like
"Take them," Ethan said coldly as the first state cruiser pulled into the shattered gates. "And make sure the judge gets a cell with no windows."
***
