Chapter 15 - The Checkmate Protocol
Z
Elias gave up the address with the resigned pragmatism of a man who realized his loyalty was not worth a bullet to the brain. Victor Thorne was operating out of a penthouse suite in a newly constructed, partially occupied glass tower in the financial district. A fortress in the sky. It was classic Thorne—he loved to look down on the city he was manipulating, playing god from behind floor-to-ceiling windows.
I didn't kill Elias. I shattered his kneecap with a suppressed round and tied him to a radiator using zip ties, leaving him to bleed and suffer in the dark VIP room. A message for whoever found him.
I returned to the underground garage. The SUV was exactly where I left it. I tapped the agreed-upon rhythm on the driver's side window. The locks clicked, and I slid into the driver's seat.
Lily was wide awake, the Glock resting on her lap, her knuckles white. She exhaled a long, shuddering breath when she saw me, lowering the weapon.
"Did you find him?" she asked, her voice tight.
"I got what I needed," I said, putting the car in gear. "I know where Thorne is. And I know where Gabriel is being held."
"We're going to get Gabriel?"
"Yes. But not together. It's too dangerous."
I drove us to a non-descript storage facility on the edge of the industrial sector. It was a secondary safe location I had established years ago, registered under a dummy corporation. Inside unit 402 was a small, climate-controlled bunker equipped with surveillance monitors, emergency rations, and a heavily reinforced steel door.
I led Lily inside. The bunker felt claustrophobic, but it was impenetrable without heavy explosives.
"You stay here," I instructed, turning on the monitors that displayed external camera feeds of the storage facility corridors. "No matter what happens, you do not open this door. If I don't come back in four hours, there is a red envelope on that desk. It contains new identities, cash, and contact information for a man named Marcus in Switzerland. He owes me his life. He will protect you."
Lily looked at the red envelope, tears finally spilling over her lower lashes. "You have to come back, Dad. You promised me you would do this right."
"Doing it right meant not rushing in blindly," I said, pulling her into a fierce embrace. "But some men can't be reasoned with. Some men only understand violence. I have to end this tonight, Lily. If I don't, we will never be safe."
I kissed her forehead, stepped out of the bunker, and locked the heavy steel door from the outside, engaging the biometric seal.
I drove the SUV to the financial district, parking two blocks away from Thorne's glass tower. The building was seventy stories high, sleek and modern, a monument to corporate arrogance.
Thorne was expecting a frontal assault. He would have the lobby secured, the elevators monitored, the stairwells rigged with proximity alarms.
I didn't use the front door.
I walked to the adjacent building, an older, fifty-story concrete structure. I picked the lock on the roof access door and stepped out into the freezing, driving rain. The wind howled at this altitude, threatening to push me over the edge.
I opened my tactical bag and assembled a high-tension grapnel launcher. I aimed it at the roof of Thorne's tower, eighty yards away and twenty stories higher. The heavy pneumatic mechanism fired with a sharp thwump, the steel hook disappearing into the darkness and securing itself securely to the heavy steel support beams of Thorne's rooftop HVAC system.
I tested the line, clipped my harness to it, and stepped off the ledge.
I ascended into the void, the wind tearing at my clothes, the city a dizzying blur of lights far below. It was a grueling, agonizing climb, my muscles screaming in protest, but I moved with mechanical precision. I reached the roof of the glass tower, hauling myself over the parapet.
The roof was clear. The arrogance of the high ground. Thorne believed no one could breach him from above.
I located the master maintenance hatch. I bypassed the electronic lock using a decryptor Gabriel had built for me years ago. I descended into the penthouse floor.
The hallway was lined in imported marble and modern art. I moved silently, my suppressed pistol raised. I encountered two heavily armed guards patrolling the corridor. I dropped them both with precision headshots before they even registered my presence. Two soft thuds on the thick carpet.
I reached the double doors of the main suite. I didn't bother picking the lock. I kicked the doors open, shattering the heavy wood around the frame, and swept into the room, weapon tracking for targets.
The penthouse was massive, dominated by floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the storm-swept city.
Sitting in a leather armchair in the center of the room, facing the windows, was Victor Thorne. He was holding a glass of amber liquid, his titanium legs stretched out before him, a cane resting against his knee.
In the corner of the room, tied to a steel chair, severely beaten and sporting hideous burn scars across the left side of his face, was Gabriel.
Thorne slowly turned his chair to face me. He smiled, a cold, reptilian expression.
"Right on time, Daniel," Thorne said, taking a sip of his drink. He didn't reach for a weapon. He didn't flinch at the gun pointed at his chest. "I must say, the grapnel entry was a classic Ghost maneuver. Nostalgic, really."
"Let Gabriel go," I commanded, keeping my aim steady on Thorne's heart. "This is between you and me."
"Oh, I'm afraid Gabriel is an integral part of the finale," Thorne chuckled. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, black detonator with a blinking red light. His thumb rested heavily on the trigger switch. "A dead man's switch, Daniel. Linked to a hundred pounds of C4 wired throughout the support columns of this very floor. If you shoot me, my thumb relaxes. If my thumb relaxes, this entire penthouse, along with your friend Gabriel, vaporizes."
May you like
I froze. The operative in me rapidly calculated the variables. There was no clear shot that would sever his brain stem fast enough to prevent a reflexive muscle spasm on the trigger.
"Checkmate, Daniel," Thorne smiled, the victor in a game I hadn't realized I was losing. "Now, put the gun down. We have a lot of catching up to do, and I want you to watch as I systematically destroy everything you love."
