Chapter 15 - The Counter-Strike
Before Julian could bark an order into his earpiece, Gabriel’s tactical comm-link beeped in his ear.
"Boss," Marcus’s voice crackled through the encrypted earpiece. "Perimeter breach neutralized at 7:30 PM. The mole was Viktor. We extracted the venom syringe before he could reach Noah's room. Noah has been moved to the primary safehouse under Delta protocol. The boy is one hundred percent secure."
Gabriel slowly laid the silver pen back down onto the mahogany table.
A terrifying, slow smile spread across his face as he looked up at Julian Vance. "You're getting old, Julian. Your scouts were sloppy, your mole was greedy, and my woman has sharper eyes than your entire intelligence network."
The atmosphere in the grand ballroom snapped like a dry branch.
Julian banged his ivory cane against the marble floor. "Kill them both!" he roared to his mercenaries.
Instantly, the ballroom erupted into chaos. Gunfire rattled against the high decorative ceilings as patrons screamed and dived under banquet tables.
Gabriel moved with terrifying, lethal efficiency. He grabbed Clara by the waist, shoving her down behind an upturned solid-oak service bar just as high-caliber rounds shredded the woodwork above their heads. Gabriel drew his dual custom Kimber 1911s from beneath his coat, leaned around the corner, and fired two double-taps with pinpoint precision.
Two of Vance’s mercenaries dropped instantly, their weapons clattering against the shattered glass on the floor.
"Marcus!" Gabriel yelled into his collar mic. "Seal the hotel exits! Nobody leaves this building alive unless they surrender!"
"Understood, boss. Team Bravo is breaching the lobby doors now," came the reply.
Clara scrambled across the floor, keeping low. Through the smoke and muzzle flashes, she caught sight of Helena Vance bolting toward a private service corridor behind the stage, clutching a silver metal briefcase against her chest.
"Gabriel!" Clara pointed. "Helena has the original synthesis files for the neurotoxin! If she escapes, she’ll manufacture another batch!"
Gabriel dropped another guard who charged around the pillar, but more of Vance's syndicate soldiers were flooding the mezzanine with automatic rifles, pinning Gabriel's position down.
"Clara, stay down!" Gabriel ordered, reloading his magazines in a fraction of a second.
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"Noah will never be safe while that woman breathes!" Clara yelled back.
Without waiting for permission, Clara kicked off her high-heeled emerald shoes, grabbed a heavy, discarded brass candelabra from the floor, and darted through the billowing smoke directly into the service corridor after Helena Vance.
