Chapter 26 - The Blackout Protocol
The blast threw Mara against the gurney, but she rolled instantly into a crouch, coming up with Cruz’s discarded submachine gun.
Through the billowing gray smoke, three tactical operatives entered, their assault rifles raised, lasers cutting through the dust. They weren't shooting to kill—they were aiming high, deliberately avoiding the gurney.
*They want the baby alive. They want Clara alive until extraction,* Mara calculated instantly. *That gives me the edge.*
Mara fired a sweeping burst at knee level. The rounds tore through the legs of the lead operative, who collapsed with a shriek of pain. The second operative dove for cover behind a concrete pillar, while the third lunged toward Clara’s gurney with an extraction harness.
"Don't touch her!" Mara roared.
She vaulted over the autopsy table, slamming her entire body into the third operative. They crashed to the floor in a tangle of limbs and Kevlar. The man reached for a combat knife at his chest; Mara grabbed his wrist, twisting it violently until the bone snapped with a sickening pop, then drove her elbow down across his windpipe.
Behind her, the remaining operative leaned out from behind the pillar, leveling his weapon at Mara’s back.
*BANG.*
A shot rang out—not from Mara’s gun, and not from the operative.
The operative stiffened, a red bloom exploding across his forehead, and collapsed facedown in the water.
Standing in the shattered doorway, smoke trailing from a heavy .45 caliber revolver, stood Detective Vance. His trench coat was shredded, his face bruised and bloody, but his eyes were blazing.
"Captain Bennett," Vance wheezed, leaning against the doorframe for support. "Traffic on Michigan Avenue was hell."
"Vance!" Mara gasped, catching her breath. "Where’s Lily?"
"Secured at the 1st District precinct with six trusted SWAT officers who aren't on the Board's payroll," Vance said, stepping over the fallen bodies. "We don't have much time, Mara. The Board just pulled the master switch on the Commonwealth Edison substations. The entire city of Chicago is going dark in sixty seconds."
As if on cue, the flickering auxiliary lights died. The hum of the ventilation system ceased. A deafening, suffocating blackness fell over the underground chamber, broken only by the tactical flashlights mounted to their weapons.
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And from the gurney, Clara let out a long, piercing scream of pure labor.
"Mara! The head is crowning!" Clara sobbed in the dark. "Please! Help me!"
