Chapter 4 - Shadows in the PenthouseBy late afternoon, the rain had intensified into a howling gale, shaking the glass facade of the Mercer International tower and wrapping the penthouse in an eerie, isolated gloom.
Claire sat at the massive oak dining table, staring at a plate of food she had barely touched. Shaw was stationed near the secure elevator bank, his eyes glued to a wall of security monitors displaying every angle of the building’s lower levels and perimeter.
“Tension is high downstairs,” Shaw muttered, speaking into a comm-link clipped to his collar. “Mercer is finishing up with the union heads. He’ll be up in ten minutes.”
Claire stood up, pacing across the polished floor. “Shaw, my father. Have you heard anything about my father? If Evelyn Ross knows where I am, she surely knows about him. He’s in Queens—he doesn't have security, he doesn't have bodyguards—”
“Mr. Mercer dispatched a extraction unit to your father’s boarding house two hours ago,” Shaw interrupted, his tone reassuring despite his rigid posture. “He’ll be brought to a secure safehouse in Westchester before dark. You don't need to—”
Clang.
A dull, heavy metallic thud echoed from deep within the core of the penthouse utility shaft.
Shaw froze. His hand snapped instantly to his holster, his eyes darting toward the service elevator indicator lights.
“That wasn't the main elevator,” Shaw whispered, his voice dropping an octave.
“What does that mean?” Claire asked, her heart leaping into her throat.
“It means someone bypassed the biometric lock on the freight shaft.”
Before Shaw could draw his weapon or hit the emergency lockdown alarm, the ceiling panel above the service kitchen gave way with a sharp crash. Two figures dressed in black tactical gear dropped silently onto the marble floor, their silenced submachine guns already raised.
Shaw reacted with lethal speed, drawing his Sig Sauer and firing two rapid shots. The first intruder slumped backward, hit square in the chest, but the second mercenary swung his barrel around, catching Shaw in the shoulder with a glancing round that sent the security chief crashing against the glass partition.
“Shaw!” Claire screamed, lunging toward the kitchen counter.
The remaining intruder ignored the wounded security chief, his dark tactical goggles fixing entirely on Claire. He stepped forward, raising his weapon.
“Claire Bennett? Come with us, or the nurse gets perforated,” a harsh voice rasped through a voice modulator.
Claire backed away until her spine hit the cold glass window. There was no escape. The storm raged outside forty-eight floors above the street, and she was trapped in a cage of glass and steel.
The mercenary lunged forward to grab her arm—
Bang.
A single, deafening gunshot echoed through the penthouse.
The mercenary’s head snapped sideways, a spray of dark blood hitting the glass window before his knees buckled and he collapsed heavily onto the floor, lifeless.
Claire trembled violently, sliding down against the glass until she hit the floor, her hands pressed over her ears.
From the shadows of the private corridor leading from the master suite, Adrian Mercer stepped out. His shirtsleeves were stained with oil from the lower garage, and in his right hand, he held a heavy Beretta pistol, still smoking slightly at the barrel.
He didn't look like a corporate executive anymore. He looked like the apex predator of the New York waterfront.
“Are you hurt?” Adrian asked, his voice sharp as he rushed across the room and knelt down beside her, his hands gripping her shoulders to check for injuries.
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Claire looked up at him, her eyes wide with shock, tears pricking the corners of her eyelids. “They... they bypassed your security. They came through the shaft.”
“They had inside help,” Adrian said grimly, his jaw clenching as he glanced at Shaw, who was already struggling back to his feet, clutching his bleeding shoulder. “Shaw, lock down the entire building. Seal the mainframe. Someone in our inner circle just sold us out to Evelyn Ross.”
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