Chapter 7 - The Final Stand
The heavy report of the revolver echoed across the quiet valley like thunder, startling flocks of crows from the skeletal apple trees.
The SUV’s front tire exploded with a loud hiss, sending the vehicle leaning heavily to the left. Marcus cursed loudly, stumbled back a step, and instinctively fired his own weapon.
Crack!
A bullet chipped the brick pillar of the farmhouse porch inches above where Ethan had been standing a second earlier.
Before Marcus could realign his sights, Ethan sprang forward from his crouch, closing the distance between them with the explosive agility of a trained fighter. He slammed his left shoulder directly into Marcus’s chest, driving the security enforcer hard against the side of the crippled SUV.
Marcus’s pistol flew from his hand, clattering away across the gravel.
Ethan didn't hesitate. He landed a vicious right hook squarely across Marcus’s jaw, followed by a knee to the stomach that folded the larger man in half before he slumped unconscious onto the dirt.
Ethan stood over him for a second, breathing heavily, his chest heaving, his knuckles bruised and bleeding.
He didn't waste another second. He grabbed Marcus’s keys from the ignition of the SUV, threw them far out into the overgrown brush of the orchard so no one could follow them, and sprinted back to the Aston Martin.
He yanked the driver’s side door open, threw himself behind the wheel, and hit the ignition button.
The engine roared to life.
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“Hang on, Nora,” Ethan called out, his voice cracking with emotion as he checked the rear-view mirror. Nora was curled across the back seat, clutching her stomach, her face white as a sheet. “We’re going. We’re going right now.”
He threw the car into reverse, spun a tight donut in the gravel drive, and tore down the lane toward the main highway, leaving the ruined SUV and the unconscious security guard behind in a cloud of dust and exhaust.
