Chapter 8 - Fire and Blood
The blast from the bank lobby shook the ceiling of the vault, raining concrete dust down on the steel safety boxes.
""Thomas, is there another way out?"" Daniel shouted over the screaming alarm, instantly shoving the documents and the encrypted flash drive into the inside pocket of his jacket.
""The old coal chute,"" Thomas yelled, coughing against the rising dust. ""Behind the boiler room in the basement! It leads to the drainage alley behind Bay Street!""
""Take Janelle and the baby,"" Daniel commanded, drawing his gun and racking the slide. ""Go now!""
""Daniel, no!"" Janelle grabbed his arm with desperate strength. ""You can't stay down here alone! They came here to kill you!""
""They came here to destroy this evidence and kill Elijah,"" Daniel said, turning to look at her. In the flashing red strobe light, his face was carved from granite, but his eyes held an intensity that took her breath away. He reached out and touched Elijah’s cheek, his thumb brushing the baby’s single dimple. ""I promised Dani I would protect him. I already failed Min-jae. I will die before I let anything happen to this boy. Now run!""
Janelle swallowed the knot of terror in her throat. She knew arguing was death. She strapped Elijah tightly against her chest, zipped her coat around him, and followed Thomas Choi through a narrow iron security gate that led into the dark, damp brick tunnels of the basement.
Heavy footsteps and the crunch of broken glass echoed down the concrete stairs leading into the vault.
Three men wearing ballistic vests and carrying suppressed submachine guns fanned out across the threshold of the safety-deposit room. Behind them stepped Robert Song, leaning on his cane, his eyes wild and maniacal.
""Daniel!"" Robert called out, his voice echoing off the brass boxes like a demonic whisper. ""Give me the box, nephew. Give it to me, and I might let you take a yacht to South America. You can live in exile like a king. Just let this family business survive!""
From behind a row of steel lockers, Daniel fired twice.
The first shot shattered the knee of the lead gunman; the second tore through the shoulder of the second operative, dropping them both instantly to the concrete floor.
The third gunman unleashed a deafening burst of automatic fire, shredding the metal lockers into jagged ribbons of steel. Sparks showered across the floor, igniting oil rags left by maintenance crews. A wall of thick black smoke erupted instantly inside the enclosed room.
Daniel rolled across the floor, firing three rapid shots through the smoke. The third gunman collapsed with a heavy thud.
Robert stood frozen in the center of the doorway, his cane clutched in trembling hands, his face illuminated by the rising fire.
Daniel stepped through the smoke, blood running down the side of his temple where a shard of ricocheting concrete had grazed his skin. His gun was leveled directly between Robert’s eyes.
""You killed my father,"" Daniel whispered through the roar of the flames. ""You killed my brother.""
Robert’s mouth twisted into a grotesque, venomous sneer. ""Your father was weak! Min-jae was weak! They wanted to give away our fortune to truck drivers and warehouse clerks! I built this empire, Daniel! Everything you wear, everything you own, came from my will!""
""No,"" Daniel said. ""It came from their blood.""
Behind them, the wail of dozens of police sirens echoed from the streets above. The Savannah Police Department, alerted by Daniel’s federal contact, had sealed off the entire block.
Robert lunged forward, swinging his heavy brass cane at Daniel’s head.
Daniel dodged easily, catching the cane with his left hand, wrenching it from Robert’s grip, and driving his right fist directly into Robert’s jaw. The older man crumpled to the floor, coughing blood onto the soot-stained tile.
Daniel stood over him, breathing heavily, the gun still pointed at his uncle's chest. For three long seconds, every instinct screamed at Daniel to pull the trigger.
Then, through the concrete ceiling, he heard the faint, distant sound of a baby’s cry echoing from the alleyway.
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Elijah was alive.
Daniel lowered the weapon. ""Death is too clean for you, Robert. You're going to spend the rest of your miserable life in a maximum-security federal cell, watching Min-jae’s son inherit every single dime you ever stole.""
