Chapter 11: The Tactical Breach

A deafening roar ripped through the penthouse living room. It wasn’t a siren. It was the sharp, concussive crack of an explosive charge.

The reinforced glass of my exterior balcony windows shattered inward, sending a storm of jagged shards across the polished floors. Smoke billowed into the room, thick and acrid.

Then came the flashbangs. Bright white light, blinding, followed by a deafening *CRUMP* that vibrated through my bones.

Heavy boots pounded in the main hallway outside, growing louder, closer. The sounds of men shouting orders, barking into comms units.

“Clear! Clear!”

Kincaid. He wasn’t subtle. Not anymore. He was coming in hard, directly through the outer shell of my supposed fortress.

The smoke filled the work room now, making my eyes water and my throat burn. I could barely see the service hatch, my last escape route.

Another series of flashbangs detonated, closer this time, just outside the vault corridor. The entire penthouse shook.

I could hear Brenda and Evelyn coughing behind the steel shutter, their muffled cries now laced with terror. They were trapped, caught in the crossfire of my own making.

This wasn’t a warning shot. This was a full-scale assault. They were coming for me, and they weren’t taking prisoners. My time in this penthouse, in this life, was over.