Chapter 5 - Under the Iron Rain
Heavy tactical ropes dropped through the shattered skylights like striking vipers. Four heavily armed mercenaries slid down in full combat gear, their automatic rifles barking before their boots even hit the platform floor.
"Down!" Sarah roared, grabbing Leo by the collar and throwing him behind the heavy iron server rack. Bullets chewed through the concrete wall above them, sending clouds of red brick dust into the air.
Sarah leaned around the rack and fired three rapid shots. The first round caught a mercenary in the neck guard, forcing him back; the second shattered the visor of another, dropping him instantly to the floor. But more were coming. The sound of heavy boots echoed from the main entrance stairs—Gabriel’s main assault force had arrived.
"How long until the upload finishes?" Sarah screamed over the deafening roar of automatic fire.
Leo monitored the progress bar on the flickering screen. UPLOAD: 34%.
"Four minutes!" Leo yelled back. His face was entirely devoid of fear, his mind operating with mechanical clarity. He grabbed a loose copper cable from the exposed relay box, stripping the insulation with his teeth.
"What are you doing?" Sarah fired her last two rounds, dropping another advancing guard before her slide locked back on an empty chamber. "I'm out!"
"Take cover!" Leo grabbed the live high-voltage cable connected to the server’s auxiliary battery bank and jammed it directly into the metallic conduit framing the office door.
A blinding arc of yellow electricity surged through the steel frame just as two mercenaries kicked the door open. The high-voltage surge hit their tactical suits, cooking their internal electronics and sending them flying backward across the platform in a shower of sparks. The smell of scorched insulation and ozone filled the office.
Sarah grabbed a fresh magazine from a fallen mercenary’s belt, slapped it into her pistol, and racked the slide. "That bought us thirty seconds. Leo, we can't hold this room for four minutes!"
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Through the smoke, a lone figure stepped into the doorway. It was Viper. His face was a horrific mask of blood and bruised flesh, his eyes yellow with unhinged rage. In his right hand, he held a heavy military-grade grenade.
"End of the line, rat," Viper spat, pulling the pin with his teeth.
