Elena jerked the steering wheel hard to the left, tires screaming against the slick asphalt as a volley of heavy armor-piercing rounds chewed into the pavement where the SUV had been a second before. Sparks showered across the windshield. The unmarked helicopter banked sharply above them, its rotor wash rattling the SUV’s frame and nearly blinding Elena with glare.

«They’re tracking the vehicle’s internal comms!» Julian shouted over the deafening roar of the overhead rotors, his fingers flying across his tablet as he tried to jam the signal. «Drop the comms unit, Elena! Now!»

Elena ripped the encrypted radio earpiece from her ear and hurled it out the shattered driver-side window just as another burst of automatic gunfire pulverized the passenger-side mirror. The SUV slewed sideways around a rain-slicked corner, careening into an empty multi-level parking garage and plunging immediately into concrete shadows.

«Is the feed to the medical bay still active?» Elena demanded, cutting the headlights as they coasted up the dark ramp to the second tier.

Julian stared at his flickering screen, his face drained of all color. «The signal’s looping. The upload progress bar just jumped to eighty-two percent. Marcus has his thumb on the detonator, but Arthur’s security teams have breached the outer containment shield. They’re flooding the chamber.»

On the small display, the door of the medical bay blew inward in a cloud of shrapnel and smoke. Two heavily armored operatives rushed the room, weapons raised. Marcus staggered backward, screaming something inaudible as he brought his hand down toward the toggle switch.

Then, the screen violently pixelated and went completely black.

«We lost feed,» Julian whispered, his voice trembling. «Either the room was cleared, or Marcus hit the switch.»

Before Elena could answer, the heavy concrete entrance of the parking garage shuddered under a massive impact. A second armored transport vehicle had backed through the steel security gates at ground level, its halogen high-beams sweeping upward across the concrete pillars, hunting for them.

Elena threw the SUV into reverse, spinning the wheel to duck behind a row of concrete support columns. She popped the trunk release and reached back, pulling a heavy tactical case free from the debris. She flipped the latches, revealing a shoulder-mounted projectile launcher stamped with military-grade serial numbers.

«Stay down,» Elena commanded, her voice terrifyingly calm.

She shouldered the weapon, stepped out from behind the pillar into the glare of the approaching transport, and locked the targeting reticle directly onto the vehicle’s armored grill just as the heavy-caliber turret began to spin toward her.