Chapter 12 - Descent of the Dragon
Two black ropes dropped through the shattered skylight, followed immediately by two silhouettes falling like avenging angels through the driving rain. Strobe grenades detonated in mid-air, casting blinding, erratic bursts of white light that disoriented every gunman in the room.
Val hit the mahogany banquet table boots-first, the heavy wood groaning beneath his weight. His suppressed weapon spoke with rhythmic, terrifying efficiency. Four of Declan’s private mercenaries fell before they could clear their holsters.
On the other side of the room, Sarah swung low from her harness, landing silently beside the main switchboard. She drew two sidearms, firing with surgical precision to pin Declan’s perimeter guards behind the marble pillars.
Panic tore through the banquet. Crime lords scattered like roaches toward the fire exits, only to find the heavy steel fire doors sealed by Silas’s override code.
Declan ducked behind the reinforced podium, shouting over the chaos. “Kill them! Kill both of them!”
Val advanced down the length of the broken table, his face covered in soot and rainwater, his eyes fixed purely on Declan. Every step he took was measured, heavy, unstoppable. A bodyguard rushed him with an assault rifle; Val deflected the barrel with his left forearm, drove his palm upward into the man’s throat, and hurled him over the balcony railing into the darkness below.
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“Declan!” Val roared, his voice cutting through the gunfire and the howling storm outside.
Declan peeked around the pillar, firing three desperate rounds. One grazed Val’s shoulder, tearing the fabric of his suit, but Val didn't even flinch. He kept walking.
