Chapter 6 - The Ghost in the Machine
Clayton froze.
The heavy glass security doors surrounding the entire lobby suddenly slammed shut with a deafening THUD! Heavy steel security shutters dropped from the ceiling frame, sealing every window and entrance in less than three seconds, plunging the grand atrium into flashing red emergency light!
WAAAAIL! WAAAAIL! WAAAAIL!
The emergency sirens screamed.
"What the hell?!" Clayton barked, whipping out his radio. "Team B, blow the glass!"
Silence on the comms.
"Team B, respond!" Clayton screamed into the device.
"Their radios are jammed, Clayton," Roman’s voice echoed calmly from the hidden speakers above. "And the nitrogen fire-suppression system in your delivery van outside was just remotely activated. Your six shooters are currently unconscious from oxygen deprivation."
Clayton’s face went pale. He drew his weapon, spinning toward me!
"You bitch!" he snarled, raising the gun toward my chest!
I didn't wait for Roman.
I stepped inside his guard, grabbing his wrist with both hands, twisting his arm outward—the exact technique I had taught Oliver in the playroom!
Clayton gasped as his wrist joint popped! I slammed my knee hard into his groin, drove my elbow into his jaw, and swept his leg out from under him!
Clayton hit the hard marble floor with a bone-shattering crash, his pistol skidding ten feet away across the slick stone!
Before he could push himself up, a heavy tactical boot landed directly on his chest, pinning him to the floor with immense weight.
Roman stood over him, holding a suppressed tactical rifle aimed directly between Clayton’s eyes.
"Move," Roman said softly, "and I’ll paint this marble with your brains."
Clayton coughed up a spit of blood, staring up at Roman with pure hatred. "You think you’ve won, Tierney? Moreno knows she’s here! He has fifty men surrounding the city! You’re dead! Both of you!"
Roman didn't flinch. He reached down with his free hand, pulled a encrypted flash drive from his pocket, and tossed it onto Clayton’s chest.
"That drive contains twenty gigabytes of offshore bank records detailing every bribe Hector Moreno paid to federal judges, port officials, and Apex Global over the last seven years," Roman declared coldly. "Ten minutes ago, my legal team transmitted those files directly to the Director of the FBI and the U.S. Attorney General."
Clayton’s eyes went wide with pure terror. "You... you ruined the entire network..."
"No," Roman corrected, his dark eyes burning like molten iron. "I destroyed it. The FBI is currently raiding Moreno's estate in Miami. He won't be paying your eight-million-dollar bounty, Clayton. He’ll be spending the rest of his natural life in a supermax prison."
Roman tapped the receiver on his shoulder. "Security team, sweep the lobby. Put Mr. Hayes in plastic flex-cuffs and drop him at the doors of the D.C. Federal Courthouse."
Two heavy-set guards emerged from the service corridor, hauling Clayton to his feet and dragging him away as he cursed and spat.
The heavy steel shutters slowly raised, allowing the bright morning sunlight to flood back across the white marble floor.
Roman lowered his rifle, handed it to an associate, and turned toward me.
I was leaning against the central fountain, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps, my hands trembling as the adrenaline finally left my system.
Roman walked over, stepped into the water basin without caring about his expensive shoes, and pulled me up into his arms, lifting me completely off the floor.
"You took him down yourself," Roman whispered against my neck, his arms wrapping around me like iron bars. "Again."
"I told you," I panted, burying my face in the crook of his warm neck, breathing in the scent of sandalwood and rain. "I can keep up."
May you like
He chuckled—a deep, rich sound that vibrated against my chest. He pulled back slightly, looking down into my eyes with a warmth so bright it melted away three years of terror and solitude.
"Come home, Maya," Roman murmured softly, his thumb gently tracing my jawline. "The boys are waiting."
