Chapter 9 - The Silk Thread Strike
The air inside the underground foundry was thick with the scent of ozone, hot oil, and molten iron.
It was 1:00 AM on Saturday.
Instead of waiting for Apex to send their acquisition team to our studio, Luca and I had taken the initiative. We turned the old iron foundry into a master trap.
Luca stood near the main smelting furnace, wearing his custom Vicuña battle-suit, holding a heavy tactical rifle. Beside him stood twenty of his best men, fully armored and equipped with night-vision gear.
I sat in the raised control booth overlooking the main floor, monitoring sixteen high-definition security feeds connected to the perimeter alleyways.
"Movement in Sector 4," I whispered into my tactical headset. "Eight hostiles entering through the north loading bay. They’re wearing silent optics and carrying suppressed carbines."
"Apex professionals," Luca’s voice replied over the comms. "Hold positions until they reach the main floor."
Down below, eight shadowy figures moved with military precision through the dark foundry, using industrial machinery for cover. Their squad leader—a broad man wearing tactical gear—signaled his team toward the central vault where our "master pattern" safe was intentionally exposed under a single spotlight.
The leader reached the safe, pulled out a thermal cutter, and began burning through the steel lock.
"Clara," Luca said smoothly. "Now."
I threw the main breaker switch in the control room.
CLANG!
Heavy steel blast doors slammed down over every exit, sealing the eight mercenaries inside the main foundry hall.
Simultaneously, four industrial floodlights ignited, blinding the night-vision optics of the Apex team.
"Drop your weapons!" Luca’s voice roared over the foundry's public address system. "You are surrounded by twenty armed men and locked inside a reinforced iron vault!"
The Apex squad leader tore off his blinded night-vision goggles, cursing in French. He grabbed his carbine, opening fire toward the raised catwalks.
RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!
Sparks erupted off the iron girders.
Luca didn't retreat. He stepped out from behind a steel pillar into the full glare of the floodlights, completely exposed.
"Shoot him!" the French squad leader screamed.
Two mercenaries leveled their rifles at Luca’s torso, firing six rapid rounds from twenty feet away.
THWACK-THWACK-THWACK!
The high-velocity rounds hit Luca’s Vicuña vest directly over his sternum and ribcage.
Once again, the STF Liquid-Armour interlining hardened instantly upon kinetic impact. The energy dispersed across his chest with a dull thud. Luca didn't even stumble. He absorbed the shots, racked his rifle bolt, and fired two precise shots into the squad leader's shoulder and thigh, bringing him down to his knees.
The remaining six mercenaries stared in horror at the man who had just taken six rifle rounds to the chest without bleeding.
"What... what kind of monster are you?!" one of the mercs shrieked, dropping his rifle in terror.
"I’m a satisfied customer," Luca said coldly.
Within thirty seconds, Luca’s men swarmed the floor, disarming the remaining Apex operatives and forcing them onto their knees in handcuffs.
Luca walked over to the wounded French team leader, pinning his shoulder down with his heavy boot.
"Who gave you the entry codes to the canal district?" Luca demanded, pointing his weapon at the man's head.
The French leader gasped through his pain. "Vance! Captain Sarah Vance! She... she took five million from Apex to sell out your perimeter locations!"
I sat in the control booth, watching the security feeds. I wasn't surprised. In our world, loyalty wasn't bought with old military memories; it was bought with power.
"Clara," Luca called through the comms. "Did you hear?"
May you like
"I heard," I replied, standing up from my chair and picking up my silver shears from the console. "She’s waiting at the north dock in a speedboat, isn't she?"
"She is," Luca confirmed. "Let's go close her account."
