Chapter 8 - The Takedown
My boots hit the concrete floor without a sound. The first guard inside was fumbling for a flashlight near a stack of crates. I stepped behind him, delivering one swift strike to the back of his neck, and he dropped like a stone. One down, nine to go. Outside, the remaining guards were banging on the locked steel doors, yelling, "Boss? Are you okay in there?" I moved through the maze of wooden crates like a ghost, utilizing close-quarters combat techniques to systematically dismantle his security team. I disarmed the second guard and used his own momentum to knock him unconscious, then shot the third guard in the kneecap using a suppressed weapon.
He screamed in agony, collapsing to the floor, and panic erupted in the room. "We're under attack!" one of them yelled, firing blindly into the dark. His bullets hit the concrete ceiling, raining dust down on us. It was a foolish mistake; you never fire unless you have a target. I used his muzzle flash to pinpoint his exact location, firing two quick shots center mass. The rounds were non-lethal but incapacitating, and he went down hard. Victor was now crawling under the table, screaming for his men to protect him.
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The remaining internal guards were terrified. They couldn't see me, they couldn't hear me, and their comrades were dropping one by one in the dark. I tossed a stun grenade toward the last cluster of men. The explosion was deafening, sending a blinding flash of light that illuminated the warehouse for a fraction of a second. The concussive wave knocked the remaining men off their feet. Before they could recover their hearing or their sight, I bound their hands with heavy-duty zip ties. It had taken exactly four minutes to clear the room.
The outside guards finally broke through the door just as I was waiting for them. I triggered the backup generator, and the harsh industrial lights flickered back on, blinding the men in the doorway. They froze, staring at the absolute carnage. Their entire team was on the floor, bleeding or unconscious, and standing in the center of it all was a woman in tactical gear with a gun pointed directly at Victor's head. "Drop your weapons," I commanded, my voice echoing off the steel walls. The thugs looked at me, looked at Victor, and slowly lowered their guns to the floor before turning and running. It was just me and Victor now.
