The hum of heavy hydraulics echoed through the stone corridor as a second blast door crashed down behind them, sealing the exit. Dust rained down from the ceiling, settling on the shoulders of Ethan’s men. Trapped in a subterranean kill-box, surrounded by reinforced concrete and a squad of heavily armed Sterling enforcers, any ordinary tactical commander would have called for a retreat.Instead, Ethan stepped into the harsh fluorescent glare of the tunnel lights.At the far end of the passage, the commander of the Sterling squad raised a gloved hand, his voice amplified by a helmet comlink. "Drop your weapons, Cole! You are trapped beneath fifty feet of solid rock. Lord Sterling gives the orders down here.""Lord Sterling is predictable," Ethan replied, his tone chillingly level. "He thinks in walls and doors. He forgets what built them."Before the commander could process the words, Ethan pressed a small trigger hidden against the palm of his tactical glove.A deafening shockwave rat

The silence inside the gallery stretched thin, taut as a piano wire under maximum tension. Thomas slowly withdrew his hand, letting it fall dead against his tailored thigh. The slick, aristocratic confidence that had defined three generations of Sterling dominance dissolved in seconds, replaced by the hollow panic of a man who suddenly realized he was no longer the author of his own story. Outside the reinforced glass, the amber emergency lighting pulsed rhythmically, casting long, bloody shadows across the oil-painted faces of the ancestral portraits lining the grand corridor."Ninety seconds until the auxiliary relays kick in," Vincent warned low from behind Ethan, his rifle trained motionless on the door’s heavy pneumatic hinges. "When that secondary generator fires, the server racks will flood with power. The automated data burn will trigger immediately."Ethan didn't flinch even slightly. He took a single step closer to the heavy glass, placing his palm flat against the cool, lam