Chapter 8 - The Final Stand
They burst out of the stairwell onto the ground floor lobby, gasping for air.
The massive marble lobby was empty, illuminated only by the harsh glare of streetlights pouring through the floor-to-ceiling glass doors.
"We need to get to the garage," Julian panted, holding his side where he had scraped his ribs against the server rack.
"My car has a satellite uplink. We can contact the FBI directly from the dash."
They sprinted toward the private elevator banks leading down to the subterranean parking structure.
Suddenly, the heavy glass revolving doors at the front of the lobby shattered.
A shower of glass crystals exploded across the marble floor.
Viktor stepped through the wreckage, holding a compact submachine gun casually at his side.
Two armed operatives flanked him, their weapons raised.
"End of the line, Julian," Viktor called out, his voice echoing off the high marble ceilings.
"You really thought you could outsmart thirty years of empire building? Your mother built this world, and you’re just a spoiled boy playing in the dirt."
Julian stepped protectively in front of Maya, raising his pistol, though he knew the odds were impossible.
"My mother is sitting in a holding cell facing twenty years, Viktor," Julian said coldly.
"And you're about to join her."
Viktor laughed—a sharp, grating sound.
"She’s not staying in a cell, Julian. The judge is a Sterling appointee. By midnight, she’ll be out on bail, and you two will be running for your lives."
"Not if I have anything to say about it," a booming voice echoed from the shadows of the mezzanine above.
Viktor’s head snapped upward.
Marcus stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the lobby.
The head of security was bruised and battered, his suit torn, but he was holding a heavy sniper rifle aimed directly at Viktor’s chest.
"Drop the weapons," Marcus commanded, his voice cold as ice.
Viktor’s operatives panicked, turning their rifles toward the balcony.
Marcus didn't hesitate.
He fired.
The heavy caliber round slammed into the floor between Viktor’s feet, shattering the marble into a crater of white dust.
"Next one goes through your skull," Marcus roared.
Distracted by the sniper fire above, Viktor made a fatal mistake.
He turned his attention back to the balcony.
Julian didn't wait.
He raised his pistol and fired two rapid shots.
The bullets struck Viktor in the shoulder and thigh.
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Viktor screamed, dropping his weapon as he collapsed hard onto the marble floor, clutching his bleeding leg.
His two operatives immediately dropped their rifles, raising their hands in the air as red and blue police sirens began wailing loudly outside, closing in on the building from all directions.
