Chapter 19 - The Trap Springs
Instinct honed by decades of urban warfare took over in a fraction of a second. Josiah dropped flat onto the gravel just as a high-powered sniper rifle round punched clean through the brick wall where his head had been a heartbeat before.
Bang!
Glass shattered as Yuri’s trench coat fluttered from the concussive force. But Yuri wasn't the target—he was just the bait. Across the yard, three armed mercenaries in tactical gear emerged from the shadows of the shipping containers, automatic weapons raised, laying down a fierce, sweeping barrage of suppressive fire.
Josiah rolled behind the reinforced engine block of his SUV, returning fire with lethal, pin-point accuracy. Two shots, two drops. The tactical mercenaries hit the concrete hard. But Yuri was already sprinting toward a waiting speedboat docked in the murky river slip behind the warehouse.
"You can't run from the ledger, Mercer!" Yuri shouted over the roar of the boat's engine as it surged into the dark water.
Josiah didn't chase him. Instead, he pulled his secure satellite phone from his jacket, pressing the emergency override key. "Alpha Team, this is Mercer. Code Black at Sector Seven warehouse district. Lock down the perimeter. Nothing leaves by land, air, or water."
Within minutes, the distant roar of helicopter rotors chopped through the night sky above the Chicago river. Two tactical extraction choppers bearing the Mercer Foundation insignia flooded the dark water with blinding searchlights, pinning Yuri’s fleeing speedboat against the concrete pier. Trapped with nowhere to go, Yuri threw his hands up in surrender as elite guards swarmed the docks.
Josiah stood tall amidst the smoke and noise, holstering his weapon. His face was carved from granite, but inside, a cold fury burned. They thought they could test him. They thought they could threaten his family. They were dead wrong.
When Josiah finally drove back through the iron gates of the estate just before dawn, he expected the house to be dark and quiet. Instead, the main foyer lights were blazing.
Standing right by the grand staircase, arms crossed over her chest, wearing her old black apron over a simple sweater, was Willow. Her blue eyes were blazing with an unyielding fire that instantly melted all of Josiah’s cold armor.
"You thought you could sneak out and handle a syndicate remnant all by yourself without telling me?" Willow demanded, her voice dangerously calm.
Josiah stopped at the foot of the stairs, looking up at her like a guilty schoolboy caught by the headmistress. "How... how did you know?"
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"You forgot to turn off your tracking app, Josiah," Willow said, walking down the steps until she stood right in front of him, her gaze piercing straight through him. "We are partners. For better, for worse, through mafia wars and midnight stakeouts. Don't you ever shut me out again."
Josiah let out a soft, defeated breath, reaching out to pull her into his arms, burying his face in her hair. "Never again, my love. I swear it."
