COLD RECKONING

The Last Stand

The first wave came within ninety seconds.

Rice heard them before he saw them—boots pounding on the stairwell, shouts echoing through the corridors, the metallic clatter of weapons being readied. He pressed himself against the doorframe of the server room, the Glock held tight against his chest. His breath came slow and steady. His heart rate was elevated but controlled.

This was familiar territory.

The first guard rounded the corner at the end of the corridor, his rifle raised, his movements precise. Rice fired once. The bullet caught the man in the throat, just above his body armor. He went down without a sound.

The second guard was right behind him. Rice fired again, the suppressor coughing softly. The shot hit the man in the face, and he collapsed backward, his rifle clattering to the floor.

Silence for a moment. Then more footsteps, more shouting.

"How much longer?" Rice called over his shoulder.

"Twelve minutes," Charlotte replied. Her voice was tight but steady. "The d******d is progressing. Danny's in their system."

Rice didn't respond. He was watching the corridor, waiting for the next wave. The alarm continued to shriek, a relentless electronic wail that set his teeth on edge.

They came in groups now—three men, moving in formation, covering each other as they advanced. Rice fired twice, dropping the lead man. The other two scattered, taking cover behind doorways. Return fire erupted, bullets slamming into the walls around him. Rice ducked back, feeling the impact through the concrete.

He ejected the spent magazine and slammed in a fresh one. Fifteen rounds left in this mag. Twenty in the next. Not enough for a prolonged firefight.

"Charlotte! I need options!"

She appeared at his side, her face pale but determined. "There's a fire escape at the end of the corridor. But it's on the other side of the building. We'd have to fight through them to reach it."

"What about the vents?"

"They're too narrow. We'd never make it back in time." She paused, listening to the footsteps growing closer. "There's a service elevator. Behind the server room. It goes directly to the loading dock on the ground floor."

"Can you get us there?"

"I can try."

Rice nodded. "Keep working on the d******d. I'll hold them off."

Charlotte disappeared back into the server room. Rice turned to face the corridor, his mind calculating angles and distances. The enemy was close now—he could hear their breathing, the soft rustle of their equipment. They were waiting for backup, coordinating their assault.

He didn't give them the chance.

Rice stepped into the corridor and fired, moving forward in a controlled advance. The suppressor coughed—once, twice, three times. Two men went down. The third returned fire, his shots going wide. Rice dropped to a crouch and fired again, catching the man in the leg. He screamed and fell, his rifle skittering across the floor.

Rice moved past the wounded man, keeping his weapon trained on the stairwell. More footsteps were coming up from below—a lot of them. The building was pouring its entire security force into the third floor.

"Rice!" Charlotte's voice from behind him. "The elevator's open! Move!"

He retreated, firing as he went. The corridor filled with smoke and the smell of cordite. Bullets whizzed past his head, so close he could feel the air displacement. He reached the server room just as a fresh wave of guards burst through the stairwell door.

Charlotte was standing at the service elevator, her laptop clutched against her chest. The doors were open, the interior dim and industrial. Rice dove inside, hitting the button for the ground floor.

The doors slid shut as the first bullets slammed into them, denting the metal but not penetrating.

"We're clear," Charlotte said. "For now."

The elevator lurched into motion, descending slowly. Rice checked his ammunition. Two mags left. Thirty rounds total. The Glock was hot in his hand, the suppressor warm from the sustained fire.

"The d******d," he said. "Did it finish?"

Charlotte shook her head. "Not yet. Danny needs five more minutes. But we can't go back up there. The building is locked down."

"Then we find another way."

The elevator stopped with a jolt. The doors opened onto the loading dock—a wide, concrete space filled with crates and pallets. Rice stepped out first, scanning the area. Empty. The dock was dark, lit only by a few emergency lights.

"We need to get to the main server room," Charlotte said, checking her phone. "Danny says he can complete the d******d from any terminal connected to their network. There's a maintenance office on the ground floor. It should have access."

"Where?"

"East side of the building. Near the main entrance."

Rice nodded. "Lead the way."

They moved through the loading dock, keeping low, using the crates for cover. The alarm continued to wail, but the ground floor seemed quiet—the security forces were concentrated on the third floor, where they'd been cornered.

Charlotte stopped at a door marked "WARTUNG." She tried the handle. Locked.

"Stand back," Rice said.

He raised the Glock and fired at the lock. The bullet shattered the mechanism, and the door swung open. Inside was a small office—a desk, a computer terminal, a wall of monitors showing security footage.

Charlotte sat at the terminal and began typing furiously. "I'm in. Danny's already running the d******d from here. Five minutes. Maybe less."

Rice took up position at the door, watching the corridor. The alarm was still shrieking, but the building seemed to be holding its breath. The guards were regrouping, trying to figure out where their targets had gone.

"We need to move," Rice said. "They'll figure out we're down here."

"Almost done. Three minutes."

Rice checked his watch. The seconds crawled by. Every sound made him tense—the creak of the building settling, the distant echo of footsteps, the soft hum of the computer terminal.

Then he heard it. The sound of boots on stairs. Coming down.

"They're coming," he said.

"Two minutes."

"Charlotte—"

"I know! Just hold them off!"

Rice stepped into the corridor, the Glock raised. The stairwell door at the end of the hall burst open, and two guards spilled through. Rice fired twice. Both men went down.

More were coming. He could hear them on the stairs, their voices sharp with urgency. Rice dropped the empty magazine and loaded his last one. Fifteen rounds. That was all he had left.

He fired at the stairwell door, forcing the guards back. The bullets punched through the thin metal, and he heard a scream from the other side. He fired again, and the screaming stopped.

"One minute!" Charlotte shouted.

Rice backed into the office, slamming the door behind him. He dragged a filing cabinet in front of it, then turned to Charlotte. She was still typing, her fingers flying across the keyboard.

"Done!" she said. "The d******d is complete. Danny has everything."

"Then let's get out of here."

They moved toward a window at the back of the office. Rice smashed it with the butt of the Glock, clearing the glass. Outside, the rain was still falling, the parking lot dark and empty.

"Go," he said.

Charlotte climbed through the window and dropped to the ground. Rice followed, landing hard on the wet pavement. They ran through the rain, heading toward the fence at the edge of the property.

Gunfire erupted behind them. Rice felt a bullet whistle past his ear, then another slam into the ground at his feet. He zigzagged, using the parked cars for cover. Charlotte ran ahead, her silhouette barely visible in the downpour.

They reached the fence. Charlotte pulled the wire cutters from her pack and began cutting frantically. Rice turned, the Glock raised, and fired the last of his ammunition at the advancing guards.

The fence parted. Charlotte pushed through, and Rice followed, the chain links scraping against his skin. They ran into the darkness, the sounds of pursuit fading behind them.

They didn't stop until they reached the safehouse in Kreuzberg. The apartment was cold and dark, but it was safe. For now.

Charlotte collapsed onto the couch, her face pale with exhaustion. Rice stood by the window, watching the rain.

"We did it," Charlotte said. "We actually did it."

Rice didn't respond. He was thinking about the data on Danny's servers now—the financial records, the operational files, the communications. Everything they needed to expose Meridian and find his daughter.

The hunt was almost over.

But the war was just beginning.

---

The d******d was complete, and the evidence was in their hands. But with the enemy alerted and every ally in danger, could Rice get the information to the right people before Meridian erased it all—and him along with it?