Chapter 6 - Blackout
The rain hissed against the corrugated steel walls of Warehouse 42. Inside, the air smelled of industrial grease, diesel fuel, and damp cardboard. Rows upon rows of towering shipping containers stretched out into the gloom like the canyons of a concrete city.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Nora moved between the stacks, her footsteps completely silent on the concrete floor. She wore all black now, her hair braided tightly against her scalp, her senses dialed up to a razor-sharp edge honed by years of desert warfare and underground survival.
Suddenly, the overhead fluorescent lights flickered violently.
Bzzzzzt.
Then, darkness.
The entire warehouse plunged into absolute blackness as the main power grid died. Across the compound, alarms began to wail, a shrill, pulsing shriek that echoed off the metal walls. In the distance, shouts rang out as guards scrambled in confusion, fumbling for flashlights and night-vision gear.
Thirty seconds, Nora thought, counting down in her head.
She broke into a dead sprint toward the administrative offices suspended on the second-floor metal mezzanine at the far end of the warehouse. Her boots hit the metal staircase with muffled thud-thuds, her eyes scanning the upper landing.
Two guards came around the corner of the office hallway, sweep-checking the area with tactical flashlights.
Nora didn’t draw her gun. She dropped low beneath the sweep of the first light beam, drove her heel into the lead guard’s knee joint with sickening force, and as he buckled, she brought the butt of her pistol down hard against the base of his skull. He dropped instantly.
The second guard raised his rifle, but Nora was already inside his guard, grabbing the barrel and shoving it upward while slamming her elbow into his ribs. He wheezed, gasping for air, and she swept his legs out from under him, sending him crashing hard onto the metal grating.
May you like
Both neutralized in under four seconds.
She stepped over them, kicked open the door to the head accountant’s office, and stepped inside.
