Chapter 235 He Breaks Down Our Door

Chapter 235 He Breaks Down Our Door
The floorboards shuddered. Plaster rained down from the ceiling. A cloud of thick, white dust filled the dark office.

My ears rang. I stayed crouched behind the heavy mahogany desk. I gripped the cold metal of the tactical flashlight.

The explosion did not destroy my doors. The blast tore through the outer security barricade at the end of the seventieth-floor corridor. The heavy reinforced steel gates folded under the breaching charge.

I pulled the emergency tablet closer. The green infrared screen displayed the ruined reception area.

Five men in thick Kevlar vests stepped through the smoke. They carried assault rifles. They swung their weapons toward the long hallway leading to my office. They moved past the shattered glass of the waiting room.

The service elevator behind the reception desk dinged. The sound pierced the ringing in my ears.

The metal elevator doors slid open.

Sebastian stepped out. He dragged Bob by the strap of his tactical vest.

Bob bled from a deep wound in his side. His left arm hung useless. Despite the severe damage, he held a submachine gun in his right hand. His face looked pale in the green light of the monitor, but his eyes burned with fierce determination.

Sebastian dropped Bob behind a thick marble planter. He raised his handgun. He fired three shots into the smoke.

The lead mercenary dropped. His body hit the plush carpet.

The remaining four men returned fire.

The hallway turned into a blinding storm of muzzle flashes. The deafening noise vibrated through the wood of my doors. Bullets chewed through the expensive plaster walls. They shattered the frosted glass partitions. The air filled with flying debris and shredded corporate artwork.

I watched the screen. My chest tightened. I could not breathe.

Sebastian used the corner of the elevator shaft for cover. He returned fire with brutal precision. Every time he pulled the trigger, a mercenary fell. He dropped two more men.

But Victor sent reinforcements.

The stairwell door at the far end of the reception area swung open. Six more mercenaries flooded the floor. They laid down a heavy blanket of suppression fire. The sheer volume of bullets forced Sebastian to retreat deeper into the alcove.

They possessed superior numbers. They possessed superior firepower. They intended to shred the corridor and reach my office.

Bob assessed the situation. He looked at the narrow stretch of hallway between the reception area and my double doors. He recognized the fatal funnel. He knew Sebastian could not hold off seven men with a handgun.

Bob looked at Sebastian. The two men shared a silent exchange. A decade of loyalty passed between them in a single second.

Bob pushed himself up from the marble planter.

He did not seek cover. He stepped into the open hallway.

He planted his feet in the center of the plush carpet. He raised the submachine gun. He squeezed the trigger and held it down.

A continuous stream of bullets tore into the incoming mercenaries. Bob became a human barricade. He jammed the corridor with lethal force. He forced the enemy to focus their fire on him.

A bullet caught Bob in the left shoulder. The impact spun him half a step backward. Blood sprayed against the pristine white wall.

He did not drop. He shifted his weight to his right leg. He kept firing.

Another bullet shattered his thigh.

Bob collapsed onto his right knee. He blocked the path. He refused to let them advance. He fired until his magazine clicked empty.

He dropped the useless weapon. He reached for his sidearm.

"Get her inside!" Bob roared over the gunfire. He did not look back. He kept his eyes on the enemy. "Lock it down!"

Sebastian’s face contorted. The loss ripped through his features. He hated leaving his best man. He hated retreating. But he understood the sacrifice. Bob paid the ultimate price to buy us time.

Sebastian sprinted down the hallway. He dodged the incoming fire. He reached the heavy mahogany doors of my office.

He grabbed the brass handles. He threw the doors open.

I scrambled up from behind the desk.

Sebastian grabbed my arm. He pulled me away from the center of the room. He shoved me into the dark corner near the bookshelves.

I looked through the open doorway. I saw Bob on the screen of my mind, and I saw him in reality.

Bob took a third bullet to the chest. His body jerked. His head fell forward. He collapsed onto the carpet. He stopped moving.

The silence hit me harder than the gunfire.

Sebastian slammed the heavy mahogany doors shut. He threw the top deadbolt. He threw the bottom deadbolt. He engaged the manual steel drop-bar across the center of the wood.

We were locked inside the inner office.

The thick doors cut off the noise from the hallway. A heavy, suffocating quiet settled over the room. The green light from the tablet offered the only illumination.