Chapter 49: Incursion
The night air hung thick and humid over the Purnas estate. The moonlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting restless shadows over the sprawling grounds.
In the distance, Cortez, one of the older security watchers, strolled toward the garage, a beer bottle in each hand. He hummed an old folk tune under his breath, his gait relaxed, almost lazy. It was supposed to be a quiet night—the kind of night that dragged on with idle chatter and cheap beer.
But as he neared the garage doors, something snagged his attention.
A dark figure moved inside the mansion's living room. The shadow glided across the room, rifle held low, scanning the area with a cold, predatory focus. The intruder's face was obscured by a balaclava, the black tactical gear blending seamlessly with the dim interior.
Cortez's breath hitched. His heart pounded, and a chill ran down his spine. He ducked behind a bush, the beer bottles slipping from his hands and rolling into the grass, forgotten.
Adrenaline surged through him, tightening his muscles, sharpening his focus. He swallowed hard, eyes darting toward the barracks where the other guards were stationed. Then he took off in a low sprint, moving silently along the shadows, his mind racing with only one thought: Get to Pedro.
Inside the garage basement, the air was tense and stifling. A small fan whirred from the corner, but the air felt like concrete—thick and unmoving.
Linkman sat hunched over the workstation, sweat pooling at the back of his neck as he hungrily scanned the progress bar on the computer screen. The hard drive indicator pulsed a steady red. The extraction was at 67%.
Beside him, Jeremy shifted nervously, his eyes flitting between the computer and the heavy steel door behind them. He was a solid man in his mid-thirties, dark eyes narrowed with agitation. The silence was too oppressive, too heavy.
He licked his lips. "How much longer?"
Linkman didn't look away from the screen. "Three minutes. Maybe less if this thing doesn't lag."