Chapter 6 - Thunder and Iron
The silence that followed my voice lasted less than half a second.
Paul Moretti’s eyes went wide as saucers. "Shoot him!" he screamed, diving behind the plastic table.
Before the nearest guard could raise his weapon, I pulled the trigger. Two suppressed rounds struck him in the chest, dropping him instantly over the safety railing to the concrete floor sixty feet below.
Chaos erupted.
Victor’s team breached the upper windows, flashbangs detonating with blinding flashes and thunderous booms. The interior of the silo echoed with the sharp, rhythmic pops of suppressed gunfire as Moretti's guards were cut down before they could establish a defensive perimeter.
I moved forward through the smoke, firing with cold, lethal precision. A guard lunged from behind a concrete pillar; I sidestepped his burst, drove the butt of my rifle into his jaw, and put a single round through his chest.
Within ninety seconds, the gunfire stopped.
The remaining three guards lay motionless on the steel catwalk. The dirty judge was cowering under a rusted iron chute, his hands wrapped around his head, weeping uncontrollably.
Paul Moretti was crawling toward a dropped handgun on the floor near Lena’s chair.
I walked up, placed the heel of my boot firmly onto his right hand, and pressed down until the bones cracked beneath my weight.
Paul screamed in agony, clutching his ruined hand.
"Ethan!" Lena gasped, her breathing heavy, tears cutting clean paths through the dust on her cheeks.
I ignored Paul, pulling a combat knife from my vest and slicing through the thick ropes securing Lena’s wrists and ankles. The moment the ropes fell away, she collapsed forward into my chest.
I caught her, wrapping my arms tightly around her waist, burying my face in her hair. She smelled of rain, dust, and the faint, familiar scent of lavender that I had remembered for eight long years.
"You took your time," she sobbed into my shoulder, her hands gripping the tactical vest so tightly her knuckles turned white.
"You should have called my private line directly, Lena," I murmured, holding her head against my chest.
"I didn't want to drag you into this unless I had no choice," she whispered. "Did... did Maya find you?"
"She found me," I said, kissing the top of her head. "She walked into the ER carrying Rosie. Both of our daughters are safe."
Lena froze, pulling back to look into my eyes, her expression filled with a mixture of terror and overwhelming relief. "You know about Rosie?"
"I know," I said gently. "And we'll talk about why you kept her from me for six months later. Right now, we have garbage to dispose of."
I turned toward Paul Moretti, who was groaning on the floor, holding his bloody hand.
"Ethan... please," Paul gasped, looking up at me with sheer terror. "My brother... Dominic... he’ll make peace! We’ll pay you whatever you want! Five million! Ten million!"
"Dominic Moretti tried to murder the mother of my child," I said coldly. "There is no peace. Tell your brother I’m coming for Kansas City next week."
I looked at Frank, who had just reached the upper catwalk. "Take the judge to the federal prosecutor's office. Hand him over with the forged documents. As for Paul..."
May you like
I looked down at the sniveling mobster on the floor.
"Put him in a car and park it outside the Kansas City police precinct with a note attached to his chest," I said. "Let his brother see what happens when the Morettis cross the state line."
