Chapter 12: The Ghost Protocol
Chapter 12: The Ghost Protocol
The hallway was now a kill zone. The remaining operatives, realizing their point man was down, abandoned their silent approach. A barrage of suppressed submachine gun fire chewed through the drywall, sending clouds of white plaster dust filling the air.
I dropped to my stomach, leopard-crawling back into the master bedroom. I needed a tactical advantage; they had numbers, armor, and superior firepower. I reached under the bed and pulled out a flashbang grenade I had kept taped to the slats.
Pulling the pin, I hurled it blindly into the hallway.
"Flash out!" one of the operatives yelled, a split second before the deafening BANG and blinding white light consumed the corridor.
I moved instantly. Pushing through the smoke, I stepped over the first body and engaged the two blinded men. Two shots to the chest, one to the head for the man on the left. I pivoted, driving my heel into the knee of the second man as he blindly fired his weapon into the ceiling. As his leg gave out, I wrapped my arm around his neck, bringing the barrel of the Glock to the gap in his body armor beneath his armpit, and pulled the trigger.
The hallway was clear, but my tactical earpiece picked up a radio squawk from the dead man's comms unit. "Bravo Two, status. Do you have the target?"
They had a perimeter. I couldn't stay here.
I rushed back to the bathroom and pulled away the vanity panel. Lily was huddled in the dark, shaking like a leaf, but perfectly silent.
"Sunshine," I whispered, pulling her out. "You're doing so good, baby. We have to go for a run now. Just hold on tight to me."
I grabbed the heavy steel lockbox, shoving it into a tactical backpack, slung it over my shoulders, and hoisted Lily onto my hip. The front door was a death trap. I headed for the window in the guest bedroom that overlooked the backyard and the dense forest beyond our property line.
I kicked out the screen, checked the yard below, and dropped onto the soft earth of the flowerbed, absorbing the shock with my knees. We sprinted across the lawn, bypassing the cold grill from the barbecue, and plunged into the tree line just as spotlights from the street swept across the backyard.
We ran for two miles through the dark autumn woods. The branches whipped against my face, and the cold air burned my lungs, but I didn't slow down. My mind was racing, analyzing Vance's final transmission. The Syndicate. They were a legendary paramilitary contracting group, composed entirely of ex-Special Forces operators gone rogue. They were ghosts. And now, they were hunting me.
We finally reached the old, abandoned lumber yard on the edge of town. Hidden beneath a tarp in the rusted husk of an old shipping container was my contingency plan: a reinforced, matte-black Chevy Tahoe with bulletproof glass and military-grade run-flat tires.
I strapped Lily into the backseat, locking the doors. Sitting in the driver's seat, I tore open the lockbox. I ignored the cash and grabbed a specialized JSOC tablet. I plugged in Vance's tracking frequency.
The screen blinked, searching for the encrypted signal implanted in Vance’s watch.
Signal Acquired.
He was stationary. Located in the industrial shipping docks on the east side of the city. He was alive, but if the Syndicate had him, he wouldn't be for long. They were going to torture him for my JSOC dossier.
I looked at the rearview mirror. Lily was staring at me, her small hands clutching the edges of her blanket.
"Are we going to be okay, Mom?" she asked, her voice trembling.
May you like
I gripped the steering wheel, the leather creaking under my knuckles. The mother in me wanted to drive a thousand miles away and hide. The warrior in me knew that running from the Syndicate meant looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life. There was only one way to ensure Lily’s safety. I had to eliminate the threat at its source.
"We are going to be fine, Lily," I said, my voice cold, calm, and terrifyingly steady. "But I have to go to work."
