Chapter 7 - Blood on the Granite
""Stay down!"" Damian roared, throwing his body over the center console to shield Hannah as heavy rifle rounds slammed into the armored doors of the SUV. The sound was like being trapped inside an iron drum beaten with sledgehammers.
Grant threw the transmission into reverse, but behind them, a second black van had already slammed into their rear bumper, boxing them into the kill zone.
""Flankers on the driver's side!"" Grant shouted, drawing his sidearm through the gun port in the armored door and returning fire.
Damian didn't hesitate. He kicked his door open into the storm of lead, using the heavy bulletproof door as a rolling shield. He fired three precise bursts from his rifle toward the overpass, dropping two gunmen instantly. The air was thick with the acrid stench of cordite, burning rubber, and sulfur.
""Hannah! Crawl to the floorboards!"" Damian shouted over his shoulder.
Through the shattered side mirror, Hannah saw three men in tactical gear advancing from the shadows beneath the bridge. One of them raised a heavy shotgun, aiming directly through the SUV’s compromised rear window where Hannah was huddled.
""Damian, behind you!"" she screamed.
Damian spun. Without a second thought for his own cover, he threw himself across the back seat, placing his own body between Hannah and the shooter.
Boom.
The heavy blast tore through the edge of the doorframe. Damian grunted, a sharp, choked gasp escaping his lips as three heavy buckshot pellets ripped through the side of his ribs beneath his vest. He collapsed sideways, blood instantly soaking through his dark sweater, but he brought his weapon up with his remaining good arm and fired a single, deadly round through the attacker’s chest.
""Damian!"" Hannah screamed, catching him as he slumped against her. Warm, sticky blood flooded over her hands, smelling strongly of iron.
""I'm fine,"" he gasped, his teeth clenched, sweat instantly beading across his pale forehead. ""Grant! Clear the rear!""
A sudden screech of heavy tires tore through the darkness as four additional black SUVs from Morelli's rapid-response team finally breached the highway perimeter, cutting down the remaining Vitucci mercenaries in a merciless crossfire that ended the engagement in twenty brutal seconds.
Silence fell over the highway underpass, broken only by the hiss of punctured radiators and Damian’s ragged, shallow breathing.
Grant ripped the rear door open, his face pale with shock. ""Boss! You’re hit!""
""Get us to the estate clinic,"" Damian commanded through gritted teeth, his eyes never leaving Hannah’s terrified face. ""The hospital was a diversion. Vitucci knew I would leave the compound.""
Hannah pressed both hands against the wound on his flank, desperately trying to stem the dark flow. ""Hold on, Damian! Look at me! You stay awake! Noah is waiting for you at home, you hear me? You stay awake!""
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Damian reached up with trembling, blood-slicked fingers, weakly cupping her cheek just as he had done with his son two weeks earlier.
""You're crying for me, Hannah,"" he whispered with a faint, bittersweet smile as his vision began to blur into blackness. ""I told you... I wasn't worth it.""
