Chapter 6 - The Lion’s Den
"It's Chairman Pendelton now, Captain," the voice corrected smoothly over the intercom. "Though I suppose titles don't matter much to dead soldiers."
Sarah looked up at the corner camera, its red infrared lens blinking slowly in the darkness. "You murdered ten men and women in Colombia, Pendelton. You sacrificed an entire unit for a defense contract."
A quiet, dry chuckle came through the speakers. "Sacrificed? Don't be so dramatic, Sarah. Operation Phoenix served its exact purpose. You neutralized the cartel's leadership, allowed Vanguard to step in and secure the region's lithium reserves, and then your 'tragic deaths' allowed me to push a fifty-billion-dollar private security bill through Congress. You weren't murdered. You were an investment."
"And Marisol?" Sarah asked, her voice dropping into a terrifyingly calm register.
"Marisol was a loose end that escaped due to an incompetent guard in Panama," Pendelton replied coldly. "Which brings us to tonight. Did you really think you were sneaking through my hospital unnoticed, Vance? I built this facility. I know every wire, every vent, and every elevator shaft."
Suddenly, the large glass windows of the penthouse office shattered inward with an explosive roar.
Four heavily armed Vanguard mercenaries rappelled down from the roof on steel cables, crashing through the glass in a shower of sharp fragments. Night-vision goggles glowed green on their helmets as they raised their rifles.
"Drop your weapons!" the squad leader ordered.
Sarah didn't drop her weapon. She dropped to the floor.
As the mercenaries opened fire, bullets tearing through the mahogany desk and leather chairs, Sarah rolled beneath a fallen oak bookshelf. She pulled her flash-flashlight, strobing it at maximum intensity directly into their night-vision lenses.
The green-tinted goggles amplified the blinding white light by a factor of ten, blinding all four mercenaries instantly. They screamed in agony, ripping the heavy goggles from their faces.
Sarah rose from the shadows like an apex predator.
She fired four precise, non-lethal shots, disabling each mercenary’s weapon arm before sweeping through them with a brutal combination of close-quarters strikes. In less than fifteen seconds, all four mercenaries were disarmed, writhing on the floor in pain.
Sarah walked over to the desk console, grabbed the microphone system, and plugged her encrypted drive directly into the hospital's central broadcasting hub.
"Pendelton," Sarah said into the receiver, her voice echoing through every floor, speaker, and terminal in the entire building. "You think you own this city. But in thirty minutes, this entire drive—every bank account, every murder order, every email—will be broadcast directly to every major news outlet, federal agency, and international law enforcement database on the planet."
Silence hung over the line for three agonizing seconds.
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Then Pendelton’s voice returned, devoid of its smooth polish, replaced by a cold, desperate fury. "You won't leave this building alive, Vance. I have fifty men surrounding St. Jude’s. You're trapped."
"I’m not trapped in here with your men, Pendelton," Sarah whispered into the mic, her words echoing through the dark hallways of the hospital. "Your men are trapped in here with me."
