Chapter 4: The Shattered Glass and the Wrath from the Skies
The violence of the impact was absolute, instantaneous, and catastrophic.
Without warning, the center pane of the reinforced, floor-to-ceiling high-rise glass window exploded inward in a massive, glittering cascade of a thousand razor-sharp shards. The wall of glass simply disintegrated under an unseen, high-velocity kinetic force from the outside. A freezing gale of midnight Manhattan wind rushed into the climate-controlled penthouse, instantly scattering papers, fluttering the curtains, and roaring like a freight train.
Before Julian could even register the sound of the explosion, a high-tensile carbon-fiber tactical grappling hook, fired from a hovering black military-grade drone positioned in the open air fifty stories above the street, rocketed through the shattered frame.
The heavy steel claw instantly hooked onto the back of Julian’s expensive black suit jacket and the collar of his shirt with terrifying mechanical precision.
Before he could scream, before he could raise the baseball bat, the high-speed winch system locked in. With an explosive jerk, Julian was violently ripped off his feet. His legs flailed wildly in the air as the invisible winch pulled him backward at terrifying speed.
Aaaaaaah!
Julian’s scream was cut short as his body smashed directly through the jagged, open frame of the shattered high-rise window, disappearing instantly into the dark, windy abyss of the New York night sky, yanked upward and outward into the open air by the silent, relentless force of the tactical extraction unit.
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Silence descended upon the penthouse once more, save for the howling wind rushing through the broken window and the distant, muffled sirens wailing far down on the streets of Manhattan.
Elena knelt on the marble floor, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her eyes wide with shock and vindication as she looked toward the empty, jagged frame of the window where Julian had vanished into the night.
