Chapter 143 The Broken Shield
The rain screamed against the shattered timber frames of the Brooklyn shipyard loft.
Derek Cooper stood in the center of the destruction, his chest heaving under his heavy tactical vest, his large hands tightly gripping his smoking weapon.
The copper scent of gunpowder hung thick in the damp air.
Around his boots lay the unmoving frames of three Cordova Group mercenaries - but the target asset was gone.
"Amelia! Come in, Amelia!" Derek roared into his secure earpiece, but the only response was the piercing hiss of high-frequency static. The dual-vector server wipe had completely fried his tracking network.
He surged out of the ruined doorway, his boots slamming into the wet asphalt as he ran toward the perimeter wall. He found his lead security operative bleeding against a steel container.
"State the alignment!" Derek growled hoarsely, lifting the man by his vest. "How did Cross’s team bypass our electronic shields?"
"They... they possessed the exact tracking frequencies, sir," the operative choked out, his voice a fragile thread.
"They didn't launch an ambush from the street. A black transport vehicle cut through the riverfront gate. Daniel Cross executed the extraction himself. They threw Mrs. Mason into the back... she was fighting... but they had too many numbers."
Derek released the vest, a sudden, blinding panic violently contracting his chest. He looked out at the empty, rain-washed riverfront.
Teresa Mason was gone. Carlos had trusted him with the safety of his wife, and the shadow network had successfully slipped past his guard to steal the ultimate leverage.
He snatched his personal phone, forcing his fingers to dial Dominic Ashford’s private international back-channel, praying the satellite link could pierce the blackout. "Dominic! The safehouse has fallen! Teresa has been taken!"