Chapter 10 - Under the Bleachers
The voice belonged to a point-man in full tactical gear, standing directly on top of the iron grate. Through the slots, the muzzle of his rifle pointed downward, searching the darkness between his boots.
There was no time for a count.
Emilio thrust upward with explosive force, using both arms and his shoulders to heave the eighty-pound iron grate straight up into the air. The heavy metal slab hit the operative squarely beneath the kneecaps with a sickening crunch. The man screamed, his balance collapsing as he tumbled forward onto the wet gravel beneath the bleachers.
Before the operative could hit the dirt, Emilio surged out of the culvert like a striking viper. He brought the heel of his boot down onto the operative's neck, instantly silencing him, and scooped up the dropped rifle in one fluid motion.
"Out!" Toby yelled, hoisting Maya through the opening before scrambling out onto the muddy earth beneath the stadium seats. Vance followed, her hands scraping against the sharp metal rim.
Above them, the loud report of gunfire shattered the night. The sheriff dropped his cigarette, scrambling frantically toward the safety of his squad car as Emilio opened fire on the two Apex contractors guarding the Mercedes. The driver-side contractor took three rounds to the chest, his body slamming back against the armored sedan before sliding into the mud.
The second contractor dove behind the rear quarter-panel, returning fire with an assault rifle. High-caliber rounds ripped through the wooden bleacher supports above their heads, sending jagged splinters raining down like wooden shrapnel.
"Maya, get to the door!" Toby roared, swinging his heavy brass valve key with two hands. He rounded the hood of the vehicle as the second contractor leaned out to acquire Emilio. Toby brought the three-foot brass tool down across the contractor’s extended rifle barrel with devastating leverage, knocking the weapon from his hands and shattering the operative’s wrist.
The contractor reached for a combat knife, but Emilio arrived in a low slide, driving a knife upward into the operative's tactical vest seam. The contractor crumpled into the mud, motionless.
Toby yanked open the heavy rear passenger door of the Mercedes. Inside, Donovan was frantically tapping commands into an encrypted satellite laptop, a nickel-plated revolver resting on the leather seat beside his knee.
Donovan looked up, his face draining of all color as he saw Toby’s blood-spattered face and Emilio standing directly behind him with a smoking rifle.
"Emilio," Donovan stammered, his hand creeping toward the revolver. "Wait... we can renegotiate. The board authorized a double buyout for the Chen ledger. Four million. We split it fifty-fifty."
Emilio stepped forward, his eyes pitch black in the shadows of the bleachers. He reached in, picked up Donovan’s nickel-plated revolver by the barrel, and tossed it into the mud behind him.
"You broke protocol, Donovan," Emilio said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "You ordered an in-situ sanitation on a contract agent. That carries a penalty."
"Maya!" Donovan cried out, noticing the girl standing behind the two men. "Your father's dead, but his partners aren't! If you upload that drive, they'll release everything on your family! They'll paint him as a traitor!"
Maya stepped up to the open door, her soaked hair plastered to her cheeks, her knuckles white around the memory card. "My father kept three copies of the audit, Donovan. He knew you'd try to smear him. The decryption key on this card doesn't just open his files—it broadcasts them to every major investigative news outlet in the country."
Suddenly, the night sky erupted into daylight.
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Four massive searchlights mounted on the stadium light towers snapped on simultaneously, converging directly on the black Mercedes. Over a megaphone from the football field, a mechanized voice boomed:
"Drop your weapons and step away from the vehicle. You have ten seconds before mortar deployment."
