Chapter 5 - The Siege of the Fifth Floor
The fifth-floor hallway was a long, narrow corridor constructed of white marble and reinforced drywall—a natural fatal funnel.
Marcus and the two State Tactical Officers dragged two heavy oak desks into the center of the hallway, creating an improvised chest-high barricade fifty feet from the main elevator bank.
Clara remained inside the sealed server room with Eleanor Reyes, watching the green progress bar on the computer monitor crawl slowly toward its goal: 48 percent... 49 percent...
"They're coming up the service stairs!" one of the troopers yelled as the heavy steel fire door at the end of the hall was kicked open with a thunderous bang.
Smoke grenades rattled across the polished marble floor, spewing thick, choking white clouds that filled the corridor within seconds, obscuring visibility down to less than three feet.
"Hold your fire until you have a clear target!" Marcus shouted, pulling his gas mask over his face.
Through the white smoke, red laser sights danced across the walls. The sound of automatic fire erupted—a deafening wall of sound that turned the pristine courthouse corridor into a churning storm of flying marble dust, wood splinters, and hot shell casings.
The state trooper to Marcus’s left took a round to his shoulder and went down with a sharp groan, his rifle clattering against the floor.
Rex was crouching behind the oak desk, his nose working frantically despite the smoke. He could smell the target through the chemical fog—the scent of gun oil, cheap tobacco, and the distinct leather polish Cole always used on his uniform boots.
The dog nudged Marcus’s leg with his snout, giving two short, quiet huffs.
He has Cole’s position.
"Go around, boy," Marcus whispered into the dog's ear, touching his tactical collar. "Flank them through the press room."
Rex didn't hesitate. He slipped backward through the server room door, disappearing into the dark side corridor that connected the media press briefing room directly to the rear of the elevator bank.
Out in the main hall, Cole’s voice echoed through the choking smoke, amplified by the hard marble walls. "Give it up, Marcus! You're outnumbered six to one! Hand over the girl and the hard drive, and I'll make sure you walk out of here alive!"
"You sold your badge, David!" Marcus shouted back, firing two precise shots through the smoke that forced Cole’s lead gunman back behind the stairwell door. "You sold out every officer who ever worked with you!"
"This city belongs to Victor Vance, Marcus! It always has!" Cole roared back, stepping out from behind a concrete pillar, his rifle raised. "It's just business!"
57 percent... 58 percent... the computer terminal inside the server room chimed quietly.
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from behind the stairwell wall.
Rex had burst through the glass partition of the press room, taking Cole’s primary lieutenant by surprise from behind. The German Shepherd tore into the squad's rear element, scattering their tactical formation, creating instant panic among the mob hitmen who couldn't see through the dense smoke cloud.
"It's the dog! Shoot the damn dog!" a voice screamed from inside the smoke, followed by chaotic, panicked gunfire that struck the ceiling and floor.
Rex didn't stay still. He operated as a ghostly force inside the white fog—striking a man's leg, disappearing back into the smoke before they could swing their barrels around, then striking another from a completely different angle. He turned their numerical advantage into an absolute nightmare of confusion.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Marcus vaulted over the oak desk, his Glock firing steadily into the fog. He dropped two hitmen who were trying to retreat into the stairwell, clearing the main corridor foot by foot.
He cleared the final smoke bank near the elevator doors—and came face-to-face with Lieutenant David Cole.
Cole’s rifle was jammed, an empty casing caught in the ejection port. He dropped the weapon with a curse and reached for his service pistol.
Marcus didn't shoot. He closed the ten-foot distance in a fraction of a second, driving his heavy shoulder into Cole’s chest, slamming his former mentor against the marble wall with enough force to shatter the stone paneling behind him.
The pistol fell from Cole's grip, bouncing away across the wet floor.
Cole snarled, swinging a heavy right hook that caught Marcus across the jaw, sending him stumbling back into the marble dust. The older cop reached for his backup weapon strapped to his ankle.
"David!" Marcus yelled, his voice raw.
Before Cole could pull the ankle holster free, a black and brown shadow slammed into his chest.
Rex hit Cole with full force, pinning the corrupt lieutenant flat on his back against the cool marble floor. The German Shepherd placed his massive paws directly onto Cole’s shoulders, his jaws inches from Cole’s throat, a low, terrifying snarl vibrating through his teeth.
Cole froze completely, his eyes wide with absolute, primal terror as he looked up into the fiery eyes of the dog he had seen in the precinct hallway every morning for five years.
"Don't... don't let him bite," Cole gasped, his face draining of all color, his hands shaking as he raised them slowly off the floor. "Please, Marcus..."
Marcus stepped forward, pulling his cuffs from his belt, his eyes cold and devoid of pity. "Rex... hold."
The dog didn't move an inch, his teeth bared, keeping the corrupt police chief trapped under his broad chest until the steel cuffs clicked tightly over Cole’s wrists.
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Inside the server room, the computer terminal gave a long, pleasant chime that echoed through the silent, smoke-filled hallway:
UPLOAD COMPLETE. FILES TRANSMITTED TO FEDERAL DISTRICT COURT.
