Chapter 12 - High-Altitude Steel
David launched himself over the iron railing of the upper catwalk just as the operative finished burning through the deadbolt. The mercenary turned, his eyes widening behind his protective goggles as David tackled him across the narrow, rain-slicked platform.
The struggle was brutal and desperate, eighty feet above the flooded valley floor.
The operative swung the heavy, flaming cutting torch toward David's face. The blast of blue-hot flame scorched the collar of David's tactical jacket, filling the air with the smell of burning Kevlar. David grabbed the man's wrists, forcing the flame away, and drove his knee repeatedly into the operative’s kidneys.
The man grunted in agony, dropping the torch, which fell hissing through the dark void to extinguish in the mud below. Locked together in a deadly grapple, both men crashed against the waist-high iron guardrail. The rusted rivets groaned under the combined weight, peeling back from the main structure.
""You're both going down!"" the mercenary wheezed, his fingers digging into David’s tactical vest, trying to pull them both over the precipice into the abyss.
""Not today,"" David snarled.
David reached down to his boot, drawing his backup combat knife. With a single, decisive motion, he severed the retaining straps of his own body armor. The heavy ceramic plate and vest slid free from David's shoulders. The mercenary, still clinging desperately to the nylon webbing with all his strength, suddenly found himself clutching empty dead weight.
The man tilted backward into the open night air, his scream snatched away by the howling wind until it was abruptly silenced by the dark ground far below.
David caught the railing with one hand, his muscles burning as he hauled himself back onto the narrow iron catwalk. He wiped the rainwater from his eyes, took three deep, stabilizing breaths, and pounded on the steel hatch.
""Lily! It's Daddy! Unlock the hatch!""
A small, metallic click sounded from within. The heavy iron door creaked open, and Lily’s small, tear-streaked face appeared in the dim light. She looked at her father—his jacket torn, his face smeared with soot and blood, standing like an invincible sentinel against the storm.
She didn't hesitate. She threw herself into his arms.
David lifted her high, crushing her against his chest, shielding her tiny body from the freezing wind with his own jacket. ""I told you I was coming back, sweet pea. I told you.""
""I held the tags, Daddy,"" she sobbed into his neck. ""I held them the whole time.""
""You did perfect, baby. You were the bravest soldier in the world tonight.""
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From the highway below, a long convoy of flashing red, blue, and white emergency lights suddenly pierced the darkness. But these were not county cruisers. These were the sleek, dark blue units of the State Highway Patrol and unmarked federal black sedans, sweeping into the valley with sirens blaring in an unstoppable tidal wave of legitimate authority.
Eli's transmission had gotten through.
