The Husband They Threw Away Runs This Town Now

Chapter 18—Breach

A clang and hiss sounded from the corridor.

Erick moved like a liquid shadow. “Helix, lockdown protocol Alpha! Kill the lights!”

The bunker plunged into darkness except for the pulsing red emergency strips. The holographic map flickered once before going dark. Ivan was already at the weapons locker, tossing Erick a suppressed pistol and grabbing a compact submachine gun for himself.

“Remi, behind the server rack,” Erick ordered calmly. “Stay low. If it goes loud, use this.” He pressed a compact Glock into her hands. Her fingers closed around it without trembling.

“I’m not hiding,” she said fiercely, checking the chamber like someone who had practiced more than family galas suggested.

Another clang. The reinforced door buckled slightly under a shaped charge.

“They’re using Clarke-grade gear,” Ivan growled, taking position beside the door. “Military contractor signatures.”

Erick crouched beside him, pistol raised. “Helix, vent the corridor with knockout gas on my mark.”

“Gas reserves at forty percent,” the AI replied, tension somehow bleeding into her synthesized voice. “Neural jammers are disrupting my finer motor control. I can give you thirty seconds of interference.”

The door exploded inward in a shower of sparks and shredded metal. Three figures in tactical black poured through, night-vision goggles glowing eerie green, rifles sweeping the room.

Erick fired first. Two suppressed shots—center mass on the lead man. The attacker staggered but didn’t drop. Body armor.

Ivan opened up with a controlled burst, catching the second intruder in the legs. The man screamed and went down.

Remi’s shot cracked from behind the rack—high and wild, but it forced the third man to duck. Erick used the moment to close the distance. He slammed into the attacker, driving an elbow into the man’s throat above the armor plate. The neural jammer pack clattered to the floor.

“Helix, gas now!”

White mist flooded the corridor from hidden vents. Coughing and shouts erupted as more footsteps thundered down the stairs.

“Extraction tunnel!” Erick barked. He grabbed Remi’s wrist, pulling her toward the far wall while Ivan laid down covering fire. Erick slammed his palm against a hidden panel. A section of the floor slid open, revealing a narrow maintenance ladder descending into blackness.

“Go!” Ivan shouted, tossing a flashbang into the corridor. The blast lit the bunker white for a split second.

Remi descended first, moving fast despite the dress shoes she still wore. Erick followed, then Ivan, who sealed the hatch above them with a manual override.

The ladder dropped thirty feet into a damp utility tunnel. Emergency lights flickered on as Helix rerouted power.

“They’ll be down here in ninety seconds,” Ivan said, breathing hard. “These aren’t random thugs. Someone gave them exact coordinates.”

Erick’s jaw clenched. “Clarke. Or Leroy. Maybe both.” He glanced at Remi. Her face was smudged with dust and gun oil, but her eyes burned with adrenaline and resolve. “You okay?”

“Better than I expected,” she admitted, still gripping the Glock. “I just shot at people.”

“You did good,” Erick said. There was pride in his voice—something raw and real. He pulled her close for half a second, forehead touching hers. “Welcome to my world.”

Ivan cleared his throat. “Touching, but we’ve got company.”

Distant boots echoed from above. Helix’s voice crackled through a small earpiece Erick had handed Remi earlier: “Secondary tunnel compromised. Recommending immediate surface evac via Service Route Seven. Black SUV waiting. I’ve scrambled their comms for six minutes.”

They ran.

The tunnel narrowed, forcing them single file. Water dripped from cracked concrete overhead. Behind them, muffled shouts and the sound of another hatch being forced open spurred them faster.

They burst out through a rusted grate into an alley two blocks from the original service road. Rain had eased into a drizzle. A blacked-out SUV idled with lights off, driver’s window down just enough for Erick to recognize one of Ivan’s men.

They piled in. Tires screeched as the vehicle shot forward.

Remi leaned back in the seat, chest heaving. “They knew exactly where that bunker was.”

Erick wiped blood from a cut on his knuckles. “Which means we have a leak. Or they’ve been watching longer than I thought.”

Ivan checked the rearview. “No tail yet. But the penthouse might not be safe either.”

Erick looked at Remi. The city lights streaked across her face as they sped through Manhattan’s backstreets. “Change of plans. We’re not regrouping there.”

He pulled out a burner phone. “Helix, new destination. The Atlas Vault.”

Remi raised an eyebrow. “Atlas Vault?”

Erick’s smile was thin and dangerous. “My real war room. Where I planned every move for five years. If they want war…”

The SUV suddenly swerved hard as headlights flooded the rear window. Two black vans appeared out of nowhere, closing fast.

“…they just brought it to us,” Erick finished, chambering a round.

The chase was on.