Chapter 9 - The Glass Cage
The massive penthouse was a gallery of glass, steel, and arrogant wealth. Panoramic floor-to-ceiling windows offered a 360-degree view of the glittering Manhattan skyline, shrouded in low-hanging rain clouds. But the beauty of the view was destroyed by the stench of burning cordite and the screams of panicked bodyguards.
Frank moved like a panther through the open-concept layout, staying low behind a solid quartz kitchen island. Automatic gunfire tore through the luxury interior, shattering wine cabinets worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, sending grand crus pouring across the white floors like arterial blood.
""Spread out! Pin him down!"" Marcus Kane’s deep, gravelly voice echoed from the mezzanine level above.
Frank counted the muzzle flashes. Four men on the ground floor, two on the stairs, and Kane commanding from the balcony. Seven targets total. Daniel was nowhere to be seen—undoubtedly cowering in the reinforced panic room behind the master suite.
Frank dropped his empty rifle, unholstered his twin sidearms, and slipped a smoke canister from his belt. He pulled the pin with his teeth and rolled it toward the grand piano. Thick, impenetrable white smoke billowed outward, swallowing the living room within seconds.
""Hold fire! Thermal scopes up!"" Kane ordered.
Frank knew they had thermals, but thermal scopes had a fatal flaw: they couldn't see through the dense, hot plume of a phosphorus smoke screen immediately after detonation. The heat signature blinded their sensors.
Using their momentary blindness, Frank vaulted over the island. He closed the distance on the first two mercenaries, sweeping low. A brutal sweep of his leg took the first man down, followed by an immediate point-blank shot to the chest. He grabbed the second man by his tactical vest, using him as a human shield as Kane’s men on the stairs opened fire.
Bullets hammered into the mercenary's ceramic plates. Frank returned fire over the dead man's shoulder, putting two rounds through the staircase railing, dropping both guards instantly. They tumbled down the floating glass steps, their weapons clattering against the marble below.
""Mendez!"" Kane roared from the mezzanine, his massive frame stepping to the railing with a heavy squad automatic weapon. ""You're fighting for a corpse and a whore! Give it up!""
Kane opened fire, chewing the entire ground floor into toothpicks. The heavy rounds ripped through couches, shattered modern sculptures, and blew out two massive exterior window panels. The sudden pressure drop created a terrifying vacuum, the howling wind and freezing rain of the storm rushing into the penthouse, whipping the curtains into a frenzy.
Frank dove behind a concrete load-bearing pillar just as the hail of lead severed the wall behind him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small micro-SD card Elena had given him. He slipped it into an armored case on his wrist.
""Kane!"" Frank shouted over the howling gale. ""Victor’s lawyer is at the pier! The old man knows about your offshore accounts in the Caymans! You're taking the fall for Daniel's cartel connection!""
The gunfire suddenly stopped.
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Through the howling wind, Kane's voice hesitated for the first time. ""You're lying.""
""Check your phone, Kane. Your Swiss accounts were frozen twenty minutes ago. Victor cut the cord. You're dying for a kid who won't even remember your name tomorrow.""
