Chapter 8 - The Price of Sins
The air inside the ancient monastery crypt smelled of dry lime, centuries-old stone, and old communion wine. Weak daylight filtered down through narrow, iron-barred ground-level grates near the ceiling. Anna knelt on the stone floor beside me, her hands trembling as she tore open my white dress shirt. Elena was already by her side, carrying a surgical trauma kit she had grabbed from the monastery’s medical station.
""Exit wound is clean,"" Elena announced with calm, professional detachment, snapping on sterile latex gloves and pressing gauze deep into the furrow carved by the high-caliber round across my shoulder. ""It took out muscle tissue, but missed the subclavian artery and the collarbone. He’s going to live, Anna. Mobsters are notoriously hard to kill.""
I winced, hissing through clenched teeth as Elena applied antiseptic foam and cinched a tight pressure dressing across my chest. ""How many shooters outside?"" I asked, looking up at Julian, who had slipped into the crypt through the rear access tunnel, his face covered in soot and sweat.
""At least twelve,"" Julian said grimly, racking the slide on a combat shotgun he had taken from the monastery guard’s locker. ""Lorenzo Falcone is here in person. I saw his red Ferrari parked by the lower bridge alongside three black tactical vans. He’s brought his heavy hitters, Nicholas. They’ve cut the telephone lines, jammed local cellular towers, and blocked the only road out of the valley. They’re encircling the chapel right now. They know you’re wounded, and they know you don't have your army.""
Anna sat back against the cold stone wall, her face pale, staring at the bloody gauze discarded on the floor. ""He’s doing this because of me. If I hadn't come here, this sanctuary wouldn't be under siege. The sisters... the elderly patients in the hospice...""
""No, Anna,"" I said firmly, reaching out with my uninjured hand and gently grasping her cold fingers. ""He’s doing this because of me. Because of twenty years of greed, pride, and violence. Lorenzo wants to wipe out the Walker line so he can take total control of the Eastern Seaboard. You are innocent in this. You have always been innocent.""
I looked up at Julian. ""How much ammunition do we have?""
""Four boxes of twelve-gauge buckshot, two spare magazines for my Glock, and Elena’s hunting shotgun,"" Julian answered flatly. ""Against a dozen men armed with automatic carbines, we can hold this crypt entrance for twenty minutes. Maybe thirty if they don't have breaching charges.""
""They have breaching charges,"" I said coldly. ""Lorenzo doesn't do anything quietly. He wants to drag my corpse out into the orchard and broadcast it to the five families.""
I struggled to my feet, using the rough stone wall for support. Elena tried to push me back down, but I shook my head with an intensity that brooked no argument. ""Elena, is there an exit from these crypts that leads behind the tree line?""
Elena hesitated, glancing at Anna before answering. ""There’s an old coal chute built during the Depression. It opens into the dense laurel thicket on the northern ridge, two hundred yards uphill from the chapel roof. It’s narrow, steep, and completely overgrown.""
""Good,"" I said. I turned to Julian. ""You take Anna and Elena up the coal chute. Get them into the thicket, cross the ridge, and head down toward the state highway. The local precinct is five miles west. Lorenzo’s men won't be watching the northern cliff face; they’re focused on the courtyard.""
""Nicholas, no!"" Anna gasped, standing up and grabbing my good arm, her eyes blazing with sudden, fierce resistance. ""You can't stay here alone! You can barely stand!""
""I’m not staying here to die, Anna,"" I whispered, lifting my hand to gently caress her hair, tracing the curve of her jaw with a tenderness I hadn't shown in years. ""I’m staying here to do what I should have done fourteen years ago. I’m going to protect you. Not with walls, not with bodyguards, but by finishing this myself.""
""You promised!"" she cried out, tears spilling down her cheeks, pooling in the hollows of her neck. ""In that letter... you promised you would open the door for me! You can't open the door if you’re dead, Nicholas! You can't leave me with this guilt!""
""I am opening the door, my love,"" I murmured, leaning down and pressing my lips gently to her forehead, tasting the salt of her tears. ""I’m closing the door on my world so you can finally walk into yours.""
A heavy explosion shook the foundations of the crypt. Dust rained down from the vaulted stone ceiling as the upper wooden doors of the chapel blew apart under the force of a C4 breaching charge. The shouts of Falcone’s mercenaries echoed down the stone stairwell, accompanied by the distinct clatter of boots on marble.
""Julian! Take them! Now!"" I commanded, my voice booming with the authority of a general facing his final stand.
Julian hesitated for only a fraction of a second, his loyalty warring with his survival instincts, before he grabbed Elena’s arm and forced Anna toward the dark opening of the coal chute.
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""Nicholas! Nicholas, please!"" Anna screamed, struggling against Julian’s iron grip, her eyes locked on mine until the darkness of the tunnel swallowed her.
I picked up the twelve-gauge combat shotgun from the bench, racked a heavy shell into the chamber with a crisp, brutal sound, and walked toward the stone staircase leading up into the chapel."
