The Sovereign Awakens At Sunset

Chapter 3: The Dockyard Raid

 

"Move the crates faster! We only have twenty minutes before the patrol boat switches shifts!" Alistair shouted, his voice cutting through the heavy rumble of crane engines at Sector 2 docks.

The rain was pouring hard over the shipping containers, but the syndicate men didn't stop. They were hauling heavy wooden crates wrapped in waterproof plastic straight from the cargo ship into the back of three unmarked black delivery vans.

"Hey, Alistair!" a guard called out, running down the steel ramp from the main office. "We lost contact with Maverick's penthouse lounge ten minutes ago. The main line is completely dead."

Alistair stopped, wiping the rainwater off his forehead. He gripped the strap of his automatic rifle tightly. "Did you check the secondary radio frequency? Clay was supposed to patch us through after the payment cleared."

"Nothing but static," the guard replied, his face pale under the dim yellow dock lights. "Should we call Director Vance’s emergency line?"

"No," Alistair snapped, stepping closer to the van. "Vance told us never to call him unless the entire perimeter is compromised. If he finds out we panicked over a radio glitch, he will strip our dock clearance by tomorrow morning. Just double the guards at the main gate and—"

"The gate guards won't be answering, Alistair," a voice drifted from the top of a stacked pile of shipping containers.

Alistair whirled around, bringing his rifle up instantly. "Who's there?! Step down right now!"

Thirty men pulled their weapons, aiming their flashlights and laser sights up at the towering stack of metal containers. The bright beams of light cut through the heavy rain, locking onto a single figure standing right at the edge.

Archer stood there, his hands still buried deep inside the pockets of his dark jacket, his oversized hood pulled low. The rain didn't seem to touch him; the droplets vanished into thin air three inches before hitting his clothes, turning into faint wisps of steam.

"Is that... Maverick’s runner boy?" Alistair muttered, his jaw dropping as he recognized the clothes. "Archer? How the hell did you walk past the perimeter? Where is Clay?"

"Clay is currently rethinking his career choices," Archer said, his voice carrying a calm, unnatural vibration that drowned out the heavy roaring of the ocean waves behind them. "And Maverick already signed over the logs for Sector 2. Your turn, Alistair."

Alistair let out a harsh, mocking laugh, gesturing for his men to fan out and surround the base of the container stack. "Maverick signed over the logs to a street rat? You think because you survived the slums, you can walk into a multi-million dollar federal operation and make demands? Do you know who owns these crates, kid?"

"Director Vance," Archer murmured smoothly. "And the Iron Core Council."

The entire dock fell into a sudden, freezing silence. The syndicate men looked at each other, their grips loosening slightly on their weapons. No one outside the inner circle was supposed to know those names.

"You just signed your own death warrant, boy," Alistair hissed, his finger clicking the safety switch off his rifle. "I don't care what trick you used to get past the gate. Shoot him down!"

"Open fire!" the guard captain yelled.

Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!

A wall of lead tore through the rainy night. Thirty automatic weapons unleashed a continuous hail of bullets toward the top of the container. The metal structure groaned under the impact, sparks flying everywhere as sparks and debris filled the air.

For ten straight seconds, the gunfire didn't stop. When Alistair finally raised his hand to signal a halt, a thick cloud of gun smoke and steam hung over the containers.

"Check the body," Alistair commanded, coughing through the smoke. "Make sure nothing is left."

"Looking for me?"

Alistair’s spine turned to pure ice. The voice didn't come from above. It came from exactly two inches behind his left ear.

Before Alistair could even turn his head, a massive, invisible shockwave of crimson energy exploded from the center of the docks. The pressure was immense, hitting the syndicate men like a physical wall. Twenty armed guards were instantly thrown backward, crashing into the shipping containers and sliding onto the wet concrete, unconscious.

Alistair stumbled, his heavy tactical boots skidding on the floor. He spun around, his eyes widening in pure terror.

Archer was standing right in front of him. But he wasn't the weak, slouched kid from the showrooms anymore. Beneath the deep shadow of his hood, two massive craters of liquid red light were burning. The crimson aura radiating from his body was so hot it was instantly boiling the puddles of rainwater on the ground into white mist.

"What... what are you?" Alistair choked out, dropping his rifle as his hands began to tremble uncontrollably.

"I am the audit, Alistair," Archer whispered, reaching out with a slow, deliberate movement. His bare hand clamped around Alistair’s ballistic vest, lifting the 200-pound mercenary off his feet with zero effort.

"Wait! Stop!" Alistair gasped, his legs kicking in the air as he felt his breathing passages constricting under the pressure of the red aura. "The crates... the keys to the central server are in the silver van! The encryption codes are changed every hour by Vance’s terminal! If you kill me, you’ll never get inside!"

Archer tilted his head, the red light in his eyes flaring brighter. "I don't need your keys, Alistair. I have my own master key."

He threw Alistair across the deck like a ragdoll. The mercenary crashed hard against the side of the silver delivery van, denting the reinforced steel before collapsing into unconsciousness.

Archer walked toward the back of the van, his sneakers cracking the concrete with every step. He didn't look at the groaning guards scattered across the floor. He raised his hand, his fingers resting flat against the heavy electronic lock of the vehicle.

[System Notification: Secondary Faction Outpost Cleared.]

[Reward: 300 Survival Points credited.]

[Current Point Balance: 900 Points.]

[Notice: Main data drive located inside the vehicle terminal. Extracting Shadow Dynasty files...]

"Two more hours until sunrise," Archer whispered to himself as the red screen flashed in his vision. He ripped the reinforced steel doors of the van completely off their hinges with a single pull. "Let's see what else Director Vance is hiding in Sector 2."