Chapter 6 - A Father’s Wrath
The rain poured harder, drumming against the metal hoods of the parked cars, the smell of ozone, wet concrete, and impending violence thick in the air.
Elena let out a stifled sob behind Michael. Leo was crying softly, his tiny hands clutching Michael’s collar so hard his knuckles were white.
""Michael..."" Elena whispered, her voice cracked with despair.
""Close your eyes, Elena,"" Michael said softly, without looking back. ""Leo, bury your head in my shoulder. Don't look up until I tell you. Understand?""
The little boy, sensing the absolute gravity in his father's voice, pressed his eyes tightly against the wet wool of Michael’s coat and squeezed his eyes shut.
Marcus sneered, cocking the hammer of his revolver. ""Still barking orders, Michael? You don't have the cards tonight. Hand over the boy, or I put a hole in the woman first.""
Marcus’s finger began to squeeze the trigger.
He never finished the movement.
From the dark roofline above the alley, a sudden, deafening CRACK split the night.
A high-caliber rifle round tore through the shoulder of the gunman standing to Marcus's right, spinning him around like a ragdoll before he collapsed into the puddles.
Before the echo could fade, Michael moved.
He didn't draw to threaten; he drew to execute. Michael pulled his Kimber .45 with blinding speed, using his broad chest to shield Leo completely. Double-tap. Two heavy rounds slammed directly into the chest of the gunman on Marcus's left, dropping him instantly onto the asphalt.
""Ambush!"" Marcus screamed, scrambling backward toward the protection of the SUV, firing wildly into the rain.
From the mouth of the alley, a dark sedan skidded around the corner, smashing directly into the two men who had approached from behind, crushing them against a dumpster. The driver’s door kicked open, and Ethan Cole emerged, a combat shotgun resting against his hip, pumping rounds into the chassis of Marcus's SUV, shattering the windows and forcing the remaining crew to the ground.
""Get them in the car!"" Ethan bellowed over the roar of gunfire.
Michael didn't hesitate. He grabbed Elena by the arm with his free hand, hauling her forward as bullets chipped away the brick mortar around their heads. He shoved her into the rear seat of Ethan’s car, threw Leo into her lap, and dove in after them, slamming the heavy reinforced door shut just as a burst of rounds spider-webbed the ballistic glass.
""Drive!"" Michael roared.
Ethan slammed the car into reverse, the tires screeching and smoking against the wet pavement, then whipped the wheel around, tearing down the access road and leaving the smoking, bullet-riddled alley behind them.
Inside the car, the silence was suffocating, broken only by the sound of Leo’s frantic sobbing and Elena’s ragged breaths.
Elena clutched Leo to her chest, rocking him violently back and forth, kissing the top of his head over and over. ""It's okay, baby. It's okay. Mommy's here. You're safe, you're safe.""
Michael sat breathing heavily, his gun still in his hand, his eyes scanning the side mirrors for pursuit.
In the front seat, Ethan caught Michael’s eye in the rearview mirror. His face was pale, a trickle of blood running down his temple from a flying glass shard.
""I tracked Vance's burner phones the second he moved,"" Ethan said quietly. ""I had a sniper on the roof. I told you I saved her life once, Michael. I wasn't going to let him end it tonight.""
Michael looked at his oldest friend. The rage that had consumed him back at the penthouse was gone, replaced by a grim, cold reality. Ethan had broken his trust three years ago, but tonight, Ethan had kept his family from being slaughtered.
""Vance is still breathing,"" Michael said, his voice deadly quiet. ""He escaped behind the SUV.""
""He won't stop,"" Elena whispered, looking up from her son, her face streaked with tears and rain. ""He knows Leo exists now. He knows what Leo means to you. He will hunt us to the ends of the earth.""
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Michael reached out. For the first time in three years, his hand touched hers. His fingers, calloused and scarred, gently closed over her trembling hand.
""He won't hunt anyone, Elena,"" Michael swore, his gray-blue eyes burning with an icy, absolute finality. ""Because by sunrise, there won't be enough left of Marcus Vance to bury.""
