CHAPTER 7: THE RETURN OF THE RAT
CHAPTER 7: THE RETURN OF THE RAT
I sprinted up the grand staircase, keeping low to avoid the sweep of their weapon lights.
“Find her,” a voice whispered below. “The boss wants the drives before the feds realize the server backup wasn't fully wiped.”
I slipped into Mark’s private study, locking the heavy mahogany door behind me. My heart slammed against my ribs like a trapped bird. I needed a weapon, a leverage point, anything to tilt the scales.
I looked at the industrial paper shredder that had destroyed Mark’s fake identity hours ago. Next to it sat his heavy brass desk lamp. I ripped the cord from the wall, smashing the glass bulb against the desk, leaving a jagged, dangerous weapon of metal and shattered glass.
Suddenly, a heavy boot slammed against the study door.
The wood splintered.
I retreated to the corner of the room, holding the broken lamp out in front of me. The door gave way entirely, falling off its hinges.
But it wasn't the mercenaries who stepped through the dust.
It was Mark.
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He was wearing a wrinkled suit, his face covered in sweat, his wrists raw and bleeding from where he had obviously broken out of custody or escaped during a corrupted transport transfer. He looked feral, insane with the fear of the people backing him.
“You ruined everything, Rachel!” he hissed, his eyes wide and bloodshot as he stepped into the room. “Vanguard is going to kill me because of what you did to the server! Where are the physical drives? Give them to me!”
