Chapter 50 - The Broken Sanctuary
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The entrance to Safehouse Echo was hidden behind a rusted steel door in an abandoned subway maintenance tunnel. When I arrived, the heavy door had been blown entirely off its hinges. The edges of the metal were twisted and blackened by thermal explosives.
I drew my weapon, stepping silently over the rubble.
The subterranean platform was a war zone. The server banks Audrey had set up were smashed into pieces, wires hanging from the ceiling like dead vines. Bullet holes riddled the concrete walls, and the scent of cordite and dried blood hung heavy in the damp air.
"Audrey?" I whispered, moving tactically through the wreckage, clearing my corners.
There were bodies. Five heavily armored mercenaries wearing the Viper crest lay dead on the floor, testament to Audrey's lethal efficiency. But there was no sign of her. And no sign of Nicolás.
I reached the heavy titanium blast doors of the secondary panic room at the far end of the tunnel. They had been compromised, cut open with the same high-heat plasma torches the Vanguard used to employ.
I stepped inside the dark room, my heart pounding against my ribs.
The room was empty. A single, bloody handprint smeared against the wall.
"No," I choked out, dropping to my knees. The weapon slipped from my fingers, clattering onto the concrete floor. They had taken him. Julian had won.
Suddenly, a faint, rhythmic tapping sound echoed from beneath the floor grates.
I froze. I wiped the tears from my eyes, crawling over to the heavy iron grate in the corner of the room. The tapping continued—three quick taps, two slow taps. A Morse code sequence Audrey and I had developed years ago. Alive. Hiding.
I grabbed a crowbar from the tool rack and pried the heavy grate open with every ounce of strength I had left.
Below, in the dark drainage pipe, lay Audrey. She was clutching her side, blood soaking through her tactical vest, but she was holding a heavy assault rifle perfectly steady.
And tucked behind her, terrified but completely unharmed, was Nicolás.
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"Mom!" Nicolás cried out, scrambling up the ladder into my arms.
I held him so tight I thought I might break him, sobbing into his shoulder. We had lost the battle, but my son was alive.
