Chapter 7: The Chase Begins
Berlin, Germany – 02:10 Hours
Jasper Hawke sprinted down the dimly lit corridor, his pulse steady despite the alarms blaring overhead. Langley had a head start, but Hawke knew this building—knew how men like Langley thought. He wouldn’t be running to an exit. He’d be running to a secure location where he could regroup, call in reinforcements, and erase any remaining evidence of his crimes.
Hawke wasn’t going to give him that chance.
His earpiece crackled. “Hawke, you’ve got incoming,” Wren’s voice warned. “Security teams moving in from the north and west wings.”
Hawke kept moving. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“You’re also running out of time. You need to get to Langley before he disappears off the grid.”
“Working on it.”
He rounded a corner and immediately ducked as a burst of gunfire tore through the air. Bullets ricocheted off the walls, sending sparks flying.
Two guards. Tactical gear. Suppressors. Professionals.
Hawke slid across the floor, firing twice before rolling behind cover. One guard dropped. The second moved fast, trying to flank.
Wrong move.
Hawke anticipated it, rising from his position and snapping a shot into the man’s knee. The guard collapsed with a grunt. Hawke didn’t give him a second chance. A swift strike to the head knocked him unconscious.
He reloaded as he moved forward, his mind already calculating. Langley would be heading for the emergency evac route—likely a rooftop extraction.
“Hawke, you’ve got thirty seconds before more security floods that sector,” Wren said.
“Then I better move.”
Rooftop – 02:13 Hours
The wind howled as Hawke pushed through the rooftop access door. The city sprawled below him—Berlin’s skyline glowing against the dark sky.
At the far end of the rooftop, a sleek black helicopter was already lifting off, its rotors slicing through the night.
Langley stood near the edge, his trench coat whipping in the wind. His sharp, calculating eyes met Hawke’s. Unshaken. Unbothered.
“You’re too late,” Langley called over the roar of the helicopter. “This doesn’t end here, Jasper.”
Hawke raised his gun. “No, but you do.”
Langley smirked and stepped backward off the edge.
Hawke moved fast—sprinting to the ledge, just in time to see Langley grab onto the extended landing skid of the helicopter as it lifted higher.
The man had planned this.
Hawke didn’t hesitate. He took three steps back, inhaled sharply, then ran full speed toward the ledge.
And jumped.
In the Air – 02:14 Hours
The wind pressure was crushing, the cold biting against his skin as Hawke caught hold of the opposite skid. His grip nearly slipped, but he tightened his arms, forcing himself to stay on.
Above him, Langley glanced down, eyes widening in surprise.
“You really don’t know when to quit,” Langley shouted over the deafening noise.
Hawke smirked. “You should’ve learned that by now.”
The pilot banked the helicopter hard, trying to shake him off.
Hawke felt his grip weaken. His fingers screamed in protest. One wrong move, and he’d plummet to the city below.
But he wasn’t letting go.
Not until this ended.
