Chapter 47 - The Judas Protocol
Two minutes later, the three sentries below collapsed into the mud of the tunnel floor, their throats sliced open with tactical precision before they could even trigger their panic buttons. Dante dropped from the overhead pipes, landing softly on his boots, though he leaned heavily against the concrete wall for a split second to steady his trembling frame.
"Clear," he signaled.
Marcus and I sprinted forward to the reinforced hatch. Marcus pulled a handheld plasma torch from his pack, igniting a blinding blue flame that began slicing through the hardened alloy hinges.
"Ten seconds," Marcus muttered, sweat beading on his silver eyebrows under the thermal heat.
Suddenly, Marcus’s tactical comm-link crackled with harsh static, followed by a voice that made the blood in my veins turn to ice.
*"Marcus. Do you read me?"*
It was Miller's lieutenant—the man we left guarding Mateo at the bunker.
"Report, Vance," Marcus said without lifting the torch.
*"The perimeter... it was compromised before you left, sir,"* Vance wheezed, the sound of wet, bubbling breath signaling a fatal lung injury. *"They didn't track your hovercraft. The transponder was planted on your own gear... Castiglione knew where the bunker was all along. They hit us with neuro-gas..."*
"Mateo!" I screamed, lunging toward the comm-link. "Where is my son?!"
*"He... they took him, Brianna... Castiglione's personal guard took the boy up to the Tower via the private helipad twenty minutes ago... I'm sorry... I'm so—"*
A gunshot cracked over the frequency, followed by the flatline tone of a dead line.
I stared at the burning hatch, my vision swimming in blinding crimson rage. Castiglione didn't just want Clara's marrow. He had taken Mateo to force us to walk into his trap on the eightieth floor.
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"Cut the steel, Dad," I whispered, my voice shaking with an unnatural, terrifying fury. "Cut the goddamn steel right now."
***
