Chapter 95 Damian
Damian
The compound sat like a scar on the edge of the city—high walls topped with razor wire, cameras sweeping in slow arcs, armed guards pacing in twos. Even from half a mile out, it stank of money and blood.
We crouched low in the brush, night pressing heavy around us. Oliver had his rifle trained on the southern perimeter, Gage covered the west. Cyclone sat cross-legged beside me, laptop screen glowing faint blue as his fingers flew across the keys.
“Power grid’s sloppy,” he whispered. “Give me three minutes and I can black out half the compound. Security doors too. But once I pull the plug, they’ll know we’re here.”
“They’ll know anyway,” I muttered. “Better we control when.”
Oliver checked his watch, then gave me a look. “What’s the call, boss?”
I stared at the walls, at the men pacing with their rifles, at the shadows behind lit windows where deals were being made on stolen lives.
My shoulder throbbed where the bandage tugged, my ribs ached, but none of it mattered.
Not compared to what waited inside. “Why do we have to catch these bastards? Where the hell is the FBI?”
“We’re not leaving until Luthor’s in the ground,” I said flatly. “Cyclone, kill the lights. Gage, take high ground on the west tower. Oliver, you’re on me. We breach the main gate, move fast, move loud. And no one gets shot.”
A grim smile spread across Oliver’s face. “About damn time.”
Cyclone’s fingers danced. “Lights out in three…two…one—”
The compound plunged into darkness. Shouts erupted from inside, guards spinning, rifles raised, eyes blind against the night.
“Go!” I barked.
Oliver and I sprinted across the gravel, boots silent, rifles spitting fire as the first guards stumbled into our path. Muzzle flashes lit the black, sparks bouncing off steel. Gage’s shots cracked sharp from above, dropping targets before they even knew where the fire came from.
Cyclone’s voice crackled in my ear. “Doors unlocked. I’ll jam them behind you once you’re in. Don’t get pinned.”
“Copy.”
I slammed my boot into the main gate, Oliver right behind me, and we poured into the compound like a storm.
Every shot I fired, every step I took, one thought pulsed like blood in my veins: Get to Luthor. End this. Go home to Morgan.