Chapter 7 - THE AMBUSH AT THE CABIN
The glass of the living room window shattered with a deafening CRASH.
Marcus fired two rapid shots into the dark rain outside, the bright flashes of gunfire illuminating the pine trees beyond the deck.
"Three men on the west porch!" Marcus shouted over the roar of the wind and rain. "They're wearing tactical gear! They aren't local cops, Mr. Cole—these are high-end corporate mercenaries!"
Adrian took cover behind the thick stone fireplace, aiming his pistol toward the broken front doorway.
"Julian’s private security detail," Adrian gritted out, firing a shot that forced an intruder back out onto the deck. "He’s desperate! He knows if we make it to the federal courthouse in Boston tomorrow morning with the DNA results, he’s finished!"
Outside, a loud voice boomed through a megaphone, cutting through the storm.
"Adrian! Give it up!"
It was Julian’s chief operative, a broad, ruthless man named Vance’s brother, Arthur.
"We have the perimeter entirely surrounded!" Arthur yelled from the tree line. "We don't want you, Mr. Cole! We just want the girl and her mother! Deliver them to us, sign over the guardianship trust, and you walk away with your life and your CEO title intact!"
"Go to hell, Arthur!" Adrian yelled back, his voice echoing off the timber walls.
Inside the locked bedroom, Grace stood near the back window, her heart pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird. She had wrapped Nora in a heavy wool coat, holding her tight. Nora was awake now, crying hysterically as the sound of gunshots filled the house.
"Mommy! Mommy, I'm scared!" Nora sobbed.
"I know, baby, I know," Grace whispered, looking around the room for a weapon, a escape route, anything.
She saw a heavy iron poker beside the bedroom’s smaller fireplace. She grabbed it, holding the heavy metal rod in her shaking hands.
Suddenly, the glass of the bedroom window shattered inward!
A heavy boot kicked through the wooden frame, and a tall man clad in black tactical gear dropped onto the floorboards. Rain lashed into the room behind him.
Nora screamed.
The man stood up, wiping rainwater from his night-vision goggles. He saw Grace standing beside the bed, holding the iron poker.
"Don't make this difficult, lady," the mercenary sneered, stepping over the broken glass. "Hand over the kid and nobody gets hurt."
He reached out his gloved hand to grab Nora.
Grace didn't hesitate. Fueled by a mother's instinct, she swung the heavy iron poker with all the strength in her body!
THWACK!
The heavy iron hit the man squarely across the side of his tactical helmet. The force of the blow cracked the visor, sending him stumbling backward against the wall.
He roared in anger, shaking off the blow, and lunged forward, grabbing Grace by the throat and slamming her back against the wall. The poker clattered to the floor.
"You little bitch—" he growled, raising a gloved fist.
BANG!
The bedroom door flew off its hinges as Adrian kicked it open.
Without hesitation, Adrian fired a single shot. The mercenary froze, collapsed sideways, and hit the wooden floorboards with a heavy thud.
Adrian rushed forward, catching Grace as her knees buckled.
"Are you okay?" Adrian asked frantically, checking her neck for injuries. "Did he touch Nora?"
"We're... we're okay," Grace gasped, clutching her throat, her eyes wide with shock.
Marcus appeared in the doorway, his arm bleeding from a flesh wound, but his face triumphant. "The rest of them are retreating, sir! They didn't expect heavy resistance. But we have five minutes before they regroup with reinforcements!"
May you like
Adrian grabbed the small velvet box from the nightstand, shoved it into his pocket, and picked Nora up in his arms.
"We take the snowmobiles through the north trail," Adrian commanded. "There's an old airstrip six miles down the mountain. My private jet is waiting."
