Chapter 17 - The Breach
"Sarah! Get into the bunker!" Vance’s voice roared through the dark corridor, accompanied by the rapid, deafening crack-crack-crack of his service weapon.
The glass doors of the main entrance had been shattered.
Through the darkness, the red laser sights of tactical weapons began to dance across the concrete walls of the hallway. The intruders were moving with terrifying, military-grade speed, their heavy combat boots hitting the linoleum floors in a rhythmic, relentless advance.
Sarah grabbed Leo’s hand, pulling him off the examination table. "Marcus! To the bunker!" she screamed into her radio.
"I’m here! I’ve got the steel door open!" Marcus’s voice crackled back through the static.
They sprinted down the narrow, concrete stairs leading to the sub-basement. The air grew colder, damp with the smell of underground earth. Behind them, the sound of gunfire grew louder, the sharp ricochet of bullets hitting the concrete walls sending showers of sparks into the dark.
They reached the heavy, reinforced steel door of the old disaster bunker. Marcus stood in the doorway, holding a high-powered flashlight, his face pale with adrenaline.
"In! In!" Marcus yelled, pulling Leo and Sarah through the narrow opening.
Vance retreated down the stairs, firing backward to suppress the attackers. He threw himself through the doorway just as a hail of automatic gunfire chewed through the outer steel frame of the bunker.
Sarah and Marcus grabbed the heavy iron wheel of the door, throwing their combined weight against it, turning the massive locking bars into place with a deep, definitive CLANG.
The room fell into a sudden, suffocating silence, the distant wail of the sirens and the crackle of gunfire instantly muffled by the foot-thick concrete and steel walls.
"Are we safe, Mom?" Leo asked, his voice shaking slightly as he held Barnaby close to his side.
"We are safe, Leo," Sarah said, gasping for breath as she turned on her tactical flashlight, the beam illuminating the survival supplies, cots, and emergency medical equipment that lined the walls of the bunker.
But their relief was short-lived.
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From the other side of the heavy steel door, a low, metallic scraping sound began to echo through the concrete. It was the sound of a high-speed, diamond-tipped rescue saw cutting through the locking hinges.
Silvio Lombardi’s team hadn't come to negotiate. They had come with industrial tools, and they were going to cut through the steel door in less than fifteen minutes.
