Chapter 28 – The Great Escape
Rain poured down in sheets as the Gotham Police Department moved in, their boots pounding against the pavement. Sirens wailed, red and blue lights flashing across the towering skyline. The entire block had been sealed off.
Ibrahim Al-Farooq stood by the window, calculating.
[Estimated Time Before Entry: 30 seconds.]
Montoya checked her weapon, then turned to him. "Tell me you have an escape plan."
Ibrahim exhaled. "Lex, execute Protocol Exodus."
The system beeped. [Initiating Protocol Exodus. Engaging countermeasures.]
In an instant, the office's power flickered—then everything plunged into darkness. At that same moment, smoke canisters hidden within the walls hissed, flooding the space with thick, blinding vapor.
The police breached the front door just as Ibrahim grabbed Montoya's arm. "This way."
They sprinted toward a hidden panel behind a bookshelf. With a press of a button, it slid open, revealing a narrow stairwell leading downward.
Montoya coughed. "You have a secret tunnel? What the hell, Al-Farooq?"
"Always have contingencies."
The two disappeared inside just as tactical officers stormed the room above.
---
The tunnels beneath Gotham were ancient, older than the city itself. They wove through forgotten catacombs, abandoned subway lines, and secret pathways used by smugglers and criminals alike.
Ibrahim moved quickly, navigating the dim corridors with practiced precision. His system projected a map in his vision, marking their exit point.
Montoya's voice echoed through the tunnel. "Where does this lead?"
"An old safehouse. Unregistered. Off the grid."
She glanced back. "You do realize they just painted you as a terrorist, right? Every cop in Gotham is gonna be looking for you."
"I know." Ibrahim's jaw tightened. "And that's exactly why we need to turn this around."
Montoya frowned. "You think you can still fight this? They control the media, the police, everything."
Ibrahim stopped, meeting her gaze. "The Court made a mistake. They exposed their hand too early. That means they're afraid. And fear makes people reckless."
Before Montoya could respond, Ibrahim's system flashed a warning.
[Multiple life signs detected ahead. Heat signatures: 6. Likelihood of hostile intent: 87%.]
Ibrahim's blood ran cold. "We're not alone."
Montoya raised her gun. "Who the hell is down here?"
A voice echoed through the tunnel. Low. Amused. Dangerous.
"Ah, Al-Farooq. We've been expecting you."
From the shadows, six figures stepped forward—hooded, masked, their eyes glinting like polished steel.
Talons.
Montoya swore. "You have got to be kidding me."
Ibrahim's system beeped. [Threat Level: Extreme.]
The assassins moved.
And the fight for survival began.
To Be Continued…