Chapter 7 - Storming the Citadel
The headquarters of the Tri-City Consortium occupied the top three floors of the Sterling Tower—a monolith of dark glass and steel that dominated the Cleveland lakefront.
At midnight, the tower was a fortress of silence. Armed private security guards patrolled the perimeter, and biometric scanners secured every elevator shaft.
Except for the service freight lift, which was currently carrying three uninvited passengers.
Inside the cramped metal box of the freight elevator, Riley stood between Vincenzo and Silas, the leather briefcase resting securely at her feet. She was dressed in a dark tactical turtleneck and cargo pants borrowed from Silas’s armory, her hair pulled back into a tight, utilitarian braid.
“Eighty-fifth floor,” Silas muttered, watching the digital floor indicator tick upward. “Sterling’s private executive suite. That’s where the master server is housed. If we wipe the board’s digital registry, their entire financial network collapses instantly.”
“And if we miss?” Riley asked, her voice steady.
“We die,” Vincenzo replied simply. “Along with everyone else they’ve ever silenced.”
The elevator chimed. The doors slid open to reveal a dimly lit hallway carpeted in thick gray wool, lined with modern art and guarded by two men in tactical vests.
Before the guards could even raise their weapons, Vincenzo moved.
He lunged out of the elevator, driving his shoulder into the chest of the first guard and slamming him against the glass wall with bone-rattling force. Simultaneously, Riley pivoted, sweeping her leg low to knock the second guard's feet out from under him, following up with a lightning-fast strike to the temple with the butt of her pistol.
Both guards hit the floor unconscious.
“Clean,” Silas grunted, stepping over them and pulling a small electronic decryption device from his pocket. He slapped it against the main biometric door lock at the end of the hallway.
May you like
Blink. Green.
The heavy oak doors of Julian Sterling’s executive office swung open.
