Chapter 18 - The Falling Stone
The ambush at the quarry was quick, violent, and executed with the absolute precision of two master operatives. Arthur’s first grenade detonated directly beneath the satellite terminal, sending a thick column of white phosphorus smoke into the air and blinding the command center’s electronic eyes.
Vance opened fire from the rim, his high-powered rifle rounds puncturing the tires of the tactical vans with loud, explosive pops. The mercenaries scrambled for cover, firing blindly into the smoke as Arthur descended the quarry wall like an avalanche.
He caught the first two guards before they could clear their holsters, his hands moving in a blur of close-quarters combat strikes that left them unconscious on the gravel. He moved through the white haze like a wraith, utilizing the mercenaries' own confusion against them.
Raymond Cruz attempted to reach the lead van, his hands fumbling with the ignition keys, but the driver’s side window suddenly shattered inward. Arthur reached through the broken glass, grabbing Cruz by the collar and pulling him through the window onto the stone floor.
"The game is over, Cruz," Arthur said, his boot pinning the accountant’s hand to the ground, away from a small pocket pistol.
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Around them, the remaining mercenaries threw down their weapons as Vance secured the perimeter from above, his rifle locked onto the survival group. The chemical tanks remained intact, their valves closed.
Cruz looked up at Arthur, his silver hair ruined with dust, a bitter smile on his face. "You think you won, Miller? The data is already gone. The server in Monterrey has the complete registry of every refugee in your valley. If I don't enter the clearance code every twelve hours, that list goes live to every cartel and private intelligence firm on the black market."
