Chapter 11
Ethan remained behind the pillar, his weapon aimed squarely at the Senator's chest through the gap in the marble.
"You brought mercenaries into a high-rise in broad daylight, Senator," Ethan stated calmly. "The CPD will be here in five minutes."
Harrington chuckled softly, stepping over the fallen bodyguards without a hint of emotion.
"The District Commander of the CPD is currently on my campaign donor list, Mr. Cross," Harrington replied smoothly.
"By the time the police arrive, this scene will be framed as a tragic gang home-invasion that claimed the life of poor Julian Vance."
"And you, Ethan Cross, will be listed as the primary suspect who died resisting arrest."
The four mercenaries spread out in a tactical flank formation, their assault rifles pointed toward Ethan's cover.
Ethan checked his remaining ammunition—one full magazine in his sidearm, no primary rifle.
He needed to create chaos, and he needed it immediately.
Ethan reached into his tactical vest, pulling out a flashbang grenade he had secured from his home armory.
He pulled the pin with his teeth, dropping the grenade onto the marble floor and kicking it toward the center of the room.
"Grenade!" one of the mercenaries shouted.
A blinding flash of white light and a deafening 170-decibel blast exploded through the penthouse, shattering remaining light fixtures and disorienting the mercenary team.
Ethan lunged out from behind the pillar during the momentary flash.
He fired two rapid shots, taking down the two mercenaries on the left before they could recover their vision.
The third contractor blindly sprayed his automatic rifle, wood splinters and drywall exploding everywhere.
Ethan closed the distance, tackling the contractor to the floor, driving his tactical blade beneath the helmet visor.
The fourth mercenary aimed at Ethan's back, but Ethan grabbed the fallen contractor's rifle, firing a burst behind him without looking up.
The final mercenary collapsed onto the rug, his rifle sliding across the floor.
May you like
Ethan stood up through the lingering smoke, racking the bolt of the captured assault rifle.
Senator Harrington was scrambling back toward the elevator, his face filled with sheer panic as he mashed the door close button.
