Chapter 26 - The Bunker Beneath the Hangar
Sterling stepped out of the cage, his leather loafers squelching against the wet floor. His silver hair was disheveled, and the calculating, cold detachment he had worn in the VIP lounge earlier in the evening had been replaced by the frantic, sweat-sheened intensity of a man whose empire was burning around his ears.
"General Hayes," Sterling said, his voice flat, not raising his pistol, but keeping it pointed loosely toward the ground. "Colonel. I see you managed to survive the perimeter breach."
"Sterling," Hayes growled, keeping his sights pinned squarely on the politician's chest. "You activated Cleanslate. You sent an unsanctioned kill team against active-duty United States military personnel on domestic soil. That is high treason."
"Treason is a word used by losers to describe history before the ink dries, Arthur," Sterling said, glancing over toward the shadows where Eleanor and Vance were huddled. "Hello, Eleanor. You look terrible."
"You bastard!" Eleanor hissed, stepping out from behind the crates, her nails digging into the damp fabric of her coat. "You promised immunity! You promised Vance would be appointed to the European Procurement Board before the quarter ended! We gave you the routing codes for the Syrian corridor!"
"And you became a liability the moment Marcus pulled that dossier out of the safe," Sterling said smoothly, turning his cold gaze back to me. "Your son was always a wildcard, Eleanor. You told me he was broken. You told me the court-martial in Germany broke his spirit and that he’d roll over when you commanded him. You lied about his utility, and Vance... Vance is an incompetent child."
"Hey!" Vance shouted from the floor, his voice cracking with indignant fury. "I built the shell companies! I laundered the four billion!"
"And you left an audit trail an intern could follow with a commercial accounting program," Sterling spat, disgust dripping from every syllable. "Why do you think Cleanslate is here? They aren't here just to clean up Marcus and Hayes. They’re here to wipe this entire grid off the map. A thermite charge down the primary elevator shaft will incinerate every server, every document, and every body. Tomorrow morning's news will report an accidental methane gas explosion at a decommissioned fuel depot."
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"Not while I'm breathing," I said, taking two deliberate steps forward, the carbine locked against my shoulder.
"Then you have roughly four minutes of breath left, Colonel," Sterling replied, lifting the satellite terminal. "Because the second strike flight isn't carrying 20mm cannons. They're carrying bunker-busters. And they just crossed into regional airspace."
