The Bunker Breach

​POV: Jarrah 

​BOOM!

​The thermite charges detonated with a blinding, white-hot flash, melting the heavy steel hinges of the blast door into liquid metal. With a tremendous kick, I slammed my boot against the center of the door. The shattered five-ton barrier buckled inward, crashing onto the concrete floor of the bunker corridor with a deafening metallic roar.

​Smoke instantly poured out, thick and sulfurous.

​"Breaching! Go, go, go!" I roared, diving through the entry archway low, my tactical rifle raised.

​The interior of the bunker was a claustrophobic nightmare of narrow, damp concrete halls lit only by flickering emergency red strip-lights. The moment we crossed the threshold, the dark corridor erupted into chaos.

​Automated security turrets and a squad of Alastair’s die-hard mercenaries unleashed a hail of machine-gun fire down the tight tunnel. Bullets ricocheted wildly off the curved walls, biting into the concrete and sending clouds of blinding dust into the air.

​I slid behind an iron pillar, my back slammed against the cold surface as rounds hammered into the opposite side with terrifying force.

​Malia dropped into a roll right next to me, sliding smoothly behind the adjacent barrier. Her face was covered in concrete dust and sweat, but her eyes were lethal, bright with an icy, calm focus that made my soul roar with pride.

​"Two gunners down the hall at thirty yards!" she called out over the deafening chatter of gunfire. "A third on the upper catwalk behind the mesh screen!"

​"I'll take the catwalk! Cover the corridor!" I yelled back.

​Without waiting for a response, I pivoted out from behind the pillar, unleashing a targeted burst of rifle fire up toward the catwalk. The mercenary above shattered through the safety glass, plunging thirty feet to the concrete floor below.

​Simultaneously, a mercenary burst from a side room to my left, his weapon raised to catch me in my exposed flank.

​Before he could pull the trigger, a series of precise, suppressed shots echoed beside me. POP-POP-POP.

​The mercenary dropped instantly, three clean hits to the chest armor plate. I turned my head to see Malia already shifting her aim back down the main hall, her breathing steady, her stance rock-solid. She had eliminated my flanking threat before I even had time to turn my head.

​"Told you I had your back," she said softly into the com-link, a faint, deadly trace of a smile touching her lips.

​"And I have yours," I growled, moving forward into the clearing smoke.

​We advanced down the narrow corridor, moving like a deadly, fluid tide. Room by room, door by door, we cleared the concrete facility with brutal efficiency, driving Alastair's remaining forces back into the depths of the rock.

​Finally, we reached the heavy hydraulic door leading to the submarine loading bay at the bottom of the cliff. The deep, bass hum of a heavy marine engine vibrated through the floorboards.

​"He's starting the sub's engines!" Calaby shouted over the radio from the upper entrance. "Boss, if that hatch closes and the sub floods the airlock, he's gone!"

​I planted myself in front of the hydraulic control panel, pulling my combat knife and jamming it directly into the manual bypass box, forcing the heavy steel door to slide open with a loud pneumatic hiss.

​The door parted.

​Beyond it lay a massive, floodlit subterranean sea cavern. The dark ocean surged wildly inside the chamber, and sitting in the center of the docks was a black, sleek midget submarine, its top hatch wide open.

​Standing on the narrow iron gangway leading to the sub was a figure supported by two heavily armed guards.

​It was Alastair.

​His body was bent, his left leg dragging uselessly, his right arm bound in blood-soaked bandages. Half his face was covered in severe chemical burns from the estate collapse, but his remaining eye burned with a psychotic, unyielding malice.

​"Jarrah..." Alastair's raspy, ruined voice echoed across the cavernous steel walls, barely audible over the roaring tide. "You broke my home... You destroyed my life..."

​"It ends here, Alastair," I said, stepping onto the gangway with Malia beside me, both our weapons trained directly on his chest. "There are no more tunnels. No more proxy armies. Just you and me."

​Alastair let out a hideous, coughing laugh, blood flecking his pale lips. He slowly raised his left hand, not with a gun, but holding a small, glowing red detonator switch.

​"You think I came to this bunker just to run?" Alastair cackled, his single eye widening with maniacal satisfaction. "This facility was built on top of twenty tons of abandoned coastal demolition ordnance, Jarrah. If I can't rule this country... I'll take both of you to the bottom of the ocean with me."

​My blood ran instantly cold.

​Alastair's thumb hovered half a millimeter above the glowing red button.

​"Do it, Jarrah!" Malia screamed.

​Before I could pull my trigger, a sharp, deafening mechanical clack echoed from the ceiling above us, and the primary steel gantry beneath our feet suddenly buckled, plunging us downward toward the freezing sea.