Chapter 17 - Turning the Tables
I didn't hesitate. Shifting my baby securely against my chest, I bolted in the opposite direction, diving behind a massive industrial forklift parked near the exit ramp just as the syndicate operative realized the phone was a decoy.
“She’s by the forklift! Cut her off!” the lead man roared, turning his weapon toward my position.
Before he could pull the trigger, the heavy concrete entrance ramp behind them illuminated with a blinding flash of white headlights.
Screeech!
A heavy black tactical SUV crashed through the loading bay’s security gate at full speed, its engine roaring like a caged beast as it slammed directly into the syndicate’s van, crushing its side doors inward with a deafening explosion of shattering glass and crushed steel.
Special Agent Reeves kicked open the driver’s side door of the SUV, stepping out with an assault rifle raised, firing a precise burst of rubber-baton rounds that dropped the two syndicate thugs instantly to the concrete floor.
The lead operative stared in shock as Reeves advanced on him, leveling the rifle barrel straight at his chest.
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“Drop the weapon, or your next breath is your last,” Reeves commanded coldly.
The operative dropped his pistol, raising his hands slowly into the air as sirens began wailing in the distance from actual, uncorrupted NYPD reinforcements converging on the hospital from every direction.
