Chapter 27 - INTO THE CITADEL OF ASH
Company B surged through the courtyard like a tidal wave. Sergeant Miller blew the reinforced steel side entrance of the chancellery with a linear shape-charge. The blast ripped the heavy door inward off its hinges in a flash of orange fire and pulverized plaster.
"Flashbang out!"
Two stun grenades detonated inside the hallway with concussive claps. Elena led the entry team through the smoke, her grandfather's rifle brought up to her shoulder in the low-ready position.
The interior of the diplomatic annex was a scene of carnage. Shattered monitors, shredded classified documents, and bullet-riddled drywall lined the corridors. But it was not deserted.
Around the corner of the grand reception hall, three mercenary contractors stepped out, firing controlled, fully automatic bursts from modern suppressed submachine guns. The rounds chewed through the wood paneling, one slug grazing Elena’s shoulder harness and ripping the tactical pouch from her webbing.
Elena didn't flinch. She pivoted around the plaster pillar, using the rifle's solid wooden body as an extension of her own skeleton.
*Crack! Crack!*
She fired twice with her iron sights. At fifteen yards, the heavy 7.62mm rounds struck the lead contractor with catastrophic kinetic energy, blowing straight through his Level III body armor and slamming him backward through a plate-glass partition.
The second mercenary turned his weapon toward her, but Elena closed the distance before he could depress the trigger. She drove the steel-capped buttplate of the walnut stock straight into his jaw. The crack of bone was audible even through the combat din. The man crumpled like an empty sack.
The third contractor raised his hands, backing away into an office, but a burst from Torres’s suppressed carbine dropped him instantly.
"Hallway clear!" Torres yelled, breathing heavily through his teeth.
Suddenly, an intense high-pitched whine reverberated through their radio headsets. The tactical network screens on their chest mounts fizzled into static.
"Captain!" Miller reported, tapping his dead communication receiver. "Broadband EMP jamming. They just activated a military-grade electronic countermeasure unit from the basement. Our radios are dead. GPS is down. Red-dot optics just lost battery connections."
Torres looked down at his high-tech holographic sight; the reticle had vanished, leaving only a dead, empty tube of glass. Around them, the modern tactical gear was suddenly reduced to dead weight.
Elena looked down at her grandfather’s rifle. The steel front post stood straight and unmoving between its protective protective ears. No batteries. No circuit boards. No glass to blur or short out.
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"They just leveled the playing field," Elena said, her eyes flashing like polished steel. "Iron sights don't need electricity. Miller, take second squad and find the EMP generator. Torres, on me. We find those analysts before Apex executes them."
***
