Chapter 4: The Breach
"Six," the countdown continued.
Marcus began to sweat. He realized the room was closing in. He looked at the door—the heavy, reinforced steel doors of the penthouse. He reached for the handle, intending to run, but the lock clicked shut with a heavy, magnetic thud.
"Five."
Blue laser dots suddenly appeared on Marcus’s chest. He looked up, his eyes widening in horror. Tactical teams were repelling down from the roof, their figures visible through the glass ceiling, their weapons drawn.
"Four."
Vanessa screamed, diving behind the sofa, but there was nowhere to hide. They had planned for every exit. They had tracked every transaction.
"Three."
The penthouse door exploded inward, not from a key, but from a precision breaching charge. The shockwave knocked the expensive sculptures off their pedestals. A team of federal agents in full tactical gear stormed the room, their boots pounding against the marble floor.
"Two."
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Marcus was slammed to the ground, his face pressed into the cold floor where he had just stood in arrogance. Handcuffs clicked—a sharp, final sound.
"One."
