Chapter 32
The remaining cartel mercenaries, seeing their leader unconscious and their defensive line decimated, hesitated. They were killers motivated by money, not ideology.
"Drop your weapons," Cole commanded, his voice a low, vibrating hum of absolute, terrifying authority that echoed over the ringing silence of the penthouse. "Or share his fate."
The clatter of assault rifles hitting the marble floor signaled their surrender.
Cole didn't lower his weapon. "Sarah, I need the exfil route open. Now."
"I have a problem, Ghost-Actual," Sarah’s voice crackled, laced with sudden, acute panic. "The localized security grid just went completely dark. It wasn't my virus. Someone else is in the system."
"What do you mean?" Cole demanded, keeping his eyes on the surrendered guards while he secured the heavy, reinforced casing containing the EMP devices to his tactical harness.
"I mean the entire building has been locked down by a third party," Sarah explained frantically. "The elevators are frozen. The fire doors are sealed. Cole, thermal imaging shows a massive, heavily armed strike team breaching the lobby. They aren't local police, and they aren't cartel."
"Who are they?"
"They are broadcasting a localized jammer signal, but I managed to intercept a fragmented command code," Sarah said, her breath hitching. "It’s a Lazarus protocol. Cole, the remnants of the network... they followed you to Dubai."
Cole’s jaw locked into a rigid line. The Vanguard’s assassination squad hadn't died in the Swiss Alps. They had reformed, and they were here for the weapons.
"How many?" Cole asked, his tactical mind instantly calculating the impossible odds.
"At least fifty operatives. Heavy armor. They are moving up the stairwells," Sarah reported. "You have exactly three minutes before they reach the penthouse."
Cole looked at the unconscious cartel boss, the cowering mercenaries, and the heavy case strapped to his chest. He couldn't fight fifty elite operators in an enclosed space while protecting a volatile payload.
"I need an exit, Sarah," Cole stated coldly, looking toward the shattered glass window overlooking the dizzying drop to the city streets below.
"The roof is compromised. They have helicopters circling," Sarah warned. "Your only option is the external window-washing gantry on the east side of the building. If you can reach it, I might be able to manually override the winch controls and drop you to the maintenance level on floor sixty."
"I'm moving," Cole said.
He sprinted out of the auction room, navigating the opulent corridors of the penthouse. He reached the east wing just as the heavy fire doors at the end of the hall began to screech, sparks flying as thermal breaching charges were applied from the other side.
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"They're here," Cole muttered.
He didn't wait for the doors to blow. He shattered the reinforced glass window with the butt of his rifle and stepped out onto the narrow, swaying metal platform of the window-washing gantry, a thousand feet above the glittering streets of Dubai.
