Chapter2

I had just gripped the push handles of Anna's wheelchair. The metal handles radiated a piercing, bone-chilling cold.

Before the wheels could roll over the first piece of rubble, the shadows of the ruins instantly came alive. Over a dozen scarlet laser sights pierced the swirling dust, crisscrossing from all directions to lock dead onto my chest and the center of my brow.

Accompanied by the muffled, distinctive racking sounds of suppressed weapons, fifteen private military contractors clad in full tactical body armor sealed off every escape route like ghosts.

The lead contractor didn't pull the trigger. He kicked aside a steel rebar at his feet and walked straight toward the wheelchair. He held no gun; instead, he carried a heavy black canvas vest.

The flashing red digits stung my eyes. It was a high-explosive C4 tactical vest, rigged with engineering plastics and military-grade detonators.

The muzzles of the fifteen assault rifles around us dipped simultaneously, pointing in perfect unison at Anna's head. This silent threat forced me to halt any counterattack.

The boss roughly slipped the explosives over Anna's frail body and snapped the custom locking mechanism shut.

"Beep—"

The countdown lit up: 29:59.

Taking two steps back, the leader tossed over a rugged tactical tablet. The screen flared to life. After a burst of static, the luxurious backdrop of the Peninsula Hotel's penthouse banquet appeared in the frame.

Victor was holding a crystal goblet. His originally casual gaze suddenly froze when he made out my face.

"You're actually still breathing?" His voice echoed through the speakers, carrying undisguised astonishment. "Those people at the Black Sea Prison couldn't even dispose of a cripple cleanly?"

The shock was fleeting. He swirled the goblet in his hand, a mocking curve pulling at the corners of his mouth. A black remote detonator was tossed casually onto the table.

"Still, managing to crawl back alive is fine too. It adds a little entertainment to my victory banquet tonight."

On screen, Victor leaned closer to the camera, his fingers tapping lightly on the desk. "See the numbers on little Anna? I hold the remote access. Half an hour."

He leaned back, slipping his arm around the waist of a woman in a haute couture gown. Elena, my former fiancée, was now holding a flute of champagne, staring at me through the lens as if looking at a pile of trash.

"If you can't crawl to the Peninsula Hotel's penthouse hall before the countdown hits zero..." Victor slowly poured the red wine from his glass onto the carpet. "...if you are one second late, or if I see even a single LAPD cruiser approaching the block, that C4 will turn your only living relative into a pile of minced meat that cannot be pieced back together."

He clapped his hands, his eyes full of the arrogance of a supreme ruler. "Come on then. Kneel in front of the city's elite and kowtow in apology. I'll be waiting."

The screen instantly went black. The contractor boss gave a hand signal. The fifteen gunmen provided alternating cover and swiftly retreated into the darkness, leaving behind nothing but the rubble-strewn ground and Anna's violent sobbing.

"Brother..." Anna looked down at the pulsing red light on her chest, large teardrops smashing against the explosive casing. "Leave me alone. They have billions in capital and the entire city's SWAT team escorting them. You can't beat them... You need to run!"

I did not respond to her despair. My fingers gently brushed the dust from her forehead. Then, without changing my expression, I pressed the micro bone-conduction earpiece hidden deep inside my ear canal.

Victor thought he controlled the rules of this entire city. He had absolutely no idea what level of monster he had awakened from seven years in an overseas purgatory.

In the tactical comms channel, there was only faint static white noise—the standby signal of the Federation's top-secret Tier Zero unit.

I stared at the glaring neon lights of the Peninsula Hotel's penthouse a kilometer away, my thin lips parting slightly to spit out a single, temperatureless word:

"Move."