Chapter 18 - The Last Stand on Level B2.The subterranean loading bay was a cavernous concrete tomb filled with idling delivery trucks and the acrid stench of burning rubber.
We sprinted toward a heavy-duty armored supply truck, its diesel engine rumbling with a deep, authoritative bass.
Just as I shoved Arthur into the passenger seat, the overhead security shutters screeched open with a deafening mechanical groan.
A dozen syndicate enforcers poured into the bay, raising their automatic weapons and opening fire without a moment’s hesitation.
Bullets pinged off the concrete pillars and chewed up the armored body of our truck as Sterling slammed the vehicle into reverse.
“Get in the back and cover the rear doors!” Sterling yelled over the roar of the engine as he spun the heavy steering wheel.
I scrambled into the truck bed, sliding open the reinforced firing port and returning fire with disciplined, precision bursts.
Two enforcers dropped instantly, their tactical vests failing against the armor-piercing rounds of my rifle, forcing the rest to scatter for cover.
Sterling slammed the accelerator forward, smashing through the security gate of the loading bay and bursting out into the rain-soaked streets of Macau.
The heavy truck hydroplaned for a fraction of a second before gripping the asphalt, tearing away from the casino as sirens wailed in our wake.
Inside the cab, Arthur sat in absolute silence, his eyes staring blankly at the dashboard as his billion-dollar empire finally turned to ash.
“It’s over, Arthur,” I said into the intercom connecting the truck bed to the cab.
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“You’re going back to face an American military tribunal, and this time, there are no escape routes left.”
He didn't answer, his arrogant spirit completely shattered by the reality of his total defeat.
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