Chapter 9 - Blood and Broken Porcelain
Adrenaline flooded Tessa’s veins, washing away her fear and replacing it with a cold, desperate clarity. The two masked intruders were moving methodically, their boots clicking against the marble as they closed in on Room 104. Tessa looked around frantically for a weapon, her eyes landing on a heavy, antique porcelain vase resting atop a carved mahogany pedestal nearby. It weighed at least thirty pounds and was filled with decorative river stones. Grabbing the ceramic rim with both hands, she strained every muscle in her frame, dragging the heavy pedestal forward until it tilted precariously over the edge of the hallway intersection just above the path the intruders were taking.
The first tactical operative reached the doorway of Room 104, raising the barrel of his assault rifle toward the handle. "Clear," he muttered into his shoulder mic.
"Now," Tessa whispered fiercely to herself. With a powerful shove, she tipped the heavy porcelain vase over the edge. It plummeted downward like a falling meteor, smashing directly onto the helmeted head of the second intruder with a deafening, explosive crash of shattering ceramic and flying river stones. The man dropped instantly to the marble floor like a slaughtered ox, unconscious and bleeding profusely from a split tactical helmet.
The lead operative spun around in absolute shock, his weapon pivoting toward the sudden noise. Before he could squeeze the trigger of his assault rifle, a dark shadow materialized from the opposite end of the corridor. Damian descended upon the intruder like an avenging angel, lunging across the hallway and slamming his heavy combat boot directly into the man's chest. The operative flew backward, crashing hard against the reinforced drywall and losing his grip on his weapon. Damian was on top of him in a fraction of a second, the barrel of his Glock pressed firmly against the man's throat, his eyes blazing with murderous intent.
May you like
"Who sent you?" Damian snarled, his voice a lethal whisper that rattled the windows.
Before the bleeding operative could choke out a response, a heavy leather shoe stepped down firmly on his wrist, cracking bone. It was Paul, arriving with three armed guards who quickly secured the perimeter and zip-tied the downed men. Damian slowly lowered his weapon, rising to his feet as his chest heaved with heavy breaths. He turned his head slowly down the corridor, his piercing gaze locking onto Tessa, who was standing trembling against the stone pillar, her hands covered in white ceramic dust. The fury in Damian’s eyes vanished instantly, replaced by a dark, simmering panic as he realized how close she had come to being caught in the crossfire.
