Chapter 38 - The Ambush at the Spire
The rain turned into a torrential downpour as the stolen delivery van crashed through the perimeter gate of the Mount Ridge Telecommunications Facility.
Alarm sirens wailed into the stormy night. Searchlights swept across the slick tarmac, pinning the van against the steel fences.
Inside the compound, four armored tactical vehicles belonging to the Coalition’s private security wing swung around, their turrets arming with lethal tracking systems.
"Vehicle immobilized!" a commander shouted through his tactical headset. "Breach and extract Subjects 01 and 02!"
A dozen heavily armed mercenaries moved in tight formation toward the steaming van, their weapons trained on the driver’s cabin. The side door of the van slid open with a violent metallic screech.
The van was completely empty.
Sitting on the driver's seat was a single smartphone, connected to the vehicle’s diagnostic port, running an automated driving script.
"It's a decoy!" the commander yelled. "Where are they?!"
"Above you," a voice crackled through the compound's massive public address horn.
High up on the maintenance catwalk of the three-hundred-foot transmission tower, Marcos and Mateo stood against the howling wind and slashing rain. Mateo had tied himself to the steel girder with a heavy climbing harness, his laptop plugged directly into the high-frequency junction box of the master dish.
Marcos stood at the railing, holding a handheld transceiver.
Suddenly, the access elevator at the base of the tower clattered into motion.
The heavy metal cage rose swiftly toward the catwalk. As it locked into place on the upper platform, the cage door swung open.
Stepping onto the wet steel platform wasn't an armored mercenary.
It was Álvaro Miller.
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He was trembling violently, soaking wet, his eyes hollow with madness. Strapped tightly across his chest was a pressurized Coalition beacon with a pulsing red digital detonator.
"Boys..." Álvaro whimpered, his teeth chattering in the freezing wind. "Marcos... Mateo... please..."
