Chapter 9 - The Trial by Fire
Though the Commission had sided with Lucas, the death throes of the Vance faction were far from over. Julian had been captured, but his rogue mercenaries, cut off from their funding and facing certain death, launched a desperate, suicidal final strike.
It happened two nights after the conclave. We were returning to the estate after visiting a small, private botanical garden that Matteo had begged to see. The convoy of three armored SUVs was navigating the narrow, winding tree-lined roads of northern Westchester under a heavy autumn fog.
Without warning, a massive logging truck backed out of a concealed access road, blocking both lanes.
""Ambush!"" the lead driver yelled over the tactical radio.
Before our driver could slam into reverse, a rocket-propelled grenade struck the lead SUV, engulfing it in a deafening fireball that lit up the misty forest. Automatic rifle fire ripped through the trees, rounds sparking furiously off the armored glass of our vehicle.
""Down! Both of you, on the floor!"" Lucas roared, throwing his massive frame over Matteo and me in the back seat.
The vehicle rocked violently as our driver attempted to ram through the ditch, but a second explosion tore off our rear axle, sending the heavy SUV skidding sideways into a massive oak tree. The engine hissed with escaping steam, and the smell of burning gasoline filled the cabin.
""Driver is down!"" Marco shouted from the passenger seat, his arm shattered and bleeding heavily.
Lucas didn't panic. His training took over with cold, surgical precision. He kicked the crushed rear passenger door with all his might, bending the warped steel frame until the latch gave way with a loud groan.
""Hannah, listen to me,"" Lucas said, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that brooked no argument. ""The woods to the east lead to a private equestrian trail. Half a mile down is a ranger station with a secure landline. Take Matteo and run.""
""No!"" I cried, grabbing his lapel. ""We stay together!""
""They have heavy weapons, Hannah! They want me! If you stay by this car, you die!"" Lucas gripped my face in both of his hands, pressing a fierce, desperate kiss to my lips. ""You promised to protect him. I trust you with his life. Now run!""
He thrust a compact semi-automatic pistol into my hands. ""Point and pull the trigger if anyone gets close. Don't look back.""
He kicked the door completely open and lunged out into the crossfire, firing his twin handguns with lethal accuracy, immediately drawing the heavy gunfire toward himself and away from our side of the vehicle.
""Come on, Matteo!"" I screamed, pulling the terrified boy from the wreckage.
I scooped Matteo into my arms and plunged into the dense, dark woods, my boots slipping on wet autumn leaves and muddy roots. Behind us, the sounds of battle were deafening—grenades detonating, automatic rifles barking in the mist, and Lucas's deep, commanding voice barking orders to his surviving men.
Branches whipped across my face, tearing at my skin and clothes, but I didn't slow down. Matteo held onto my neck with a death grip, his small face buried in my shoulder, whispering, ""Mommy, Mommy, don't let them get us...""
Mommy.
The word ignited a fierce, primal fire in my chest. I was no longer a timid schoolteacher who apologized for existing. I was a mother defending her child.
Suddenly, footsteps crashed through the brush behind us. A flashlight beam sliced through the fog.
""Hey! Over here! I found the kid and the woman!"" a rough voice shouted in the darkness.
A burly mercenary in dark tactical gear broke through the tree line twenty yards away, raising his rifle.
Adrenaline surged through my veins. I didn't hesitate. I didn't close my eyes. I shoved Matteo behind a massive oak trunk, raised Lucas's pistol with both hands exactly as he had shown me, and pulled the trigger.
The gunshot kicked hard against my wrists, roaring through the trees. The round struck the dirt right at the man's feet. He cursed, scrambling backward to take cover.
I fired twice more, keeping him pinned behind a boulder. ""Matteo, run to the cabin! Go!"" I screamed.
We burst through the final line of trees into the clearing of the ranger station. But just as we reached the wooden porch, the mercenary caught up, lunging from the brush and tackling me to the ground.
The gun flew from my hand, skidding across the wooden planks. The man pinned my shoulders, his face twisted in a cruel, sadistic sneer as he reached for a combat knife at his belt.
""Lucas Ravalini will pay twenty million for your corpses,"" the man snarled.
""Hannah!"" Matteo screamed, picking up a heavy iron fire poker from beside the woodpile and swinging it with all his five-year-old might against the man's shin.
The mercenary yelled in surprise, swatting the boy backward. That split-second distraction was all I needed. I drove my knee upward into the man's groin with everything I had.
He doubled over, gasping for air. I scrambled across the porch, grabbed the fallen pistol, turned onto my back, and leveled the barrel straight at his chest.
""Step away from my son,"" I whispered.
Before he could move, a single, thunderous gunshot cracked from the edge of the forest. The mercenary collapsed instantly.
Stumbling out of the trees, covered in soot, mud, and blood that wasn't his own, came Lucas. His tactical vest was shredded, his face bruised, but he was standing.
May you like
He saw us on the porch—alive, unbroken, holding the line.
Lucas dropped his weapon, fell to his knees in the grass, and for the first time in his ruthless life, the king of New York bowed his head and wept with relief.
