Chapter 5 - THE AMBUSH AT VANGUARD
The betrayal went deeper than anyone had anticipated. Julian hadn't just bought off Tomas; he had bought off a faction of Roman’s own personal guard, men who believed the old king was too weak to survive.
"We go now," Roman said, his voice cold as ice. He didn't call a massive convoy. He knew the more men he brought, the higher the chance of another traitor leaking their movements. He took only four of his absolute most loyal executioners—men who had bled with him in the trenches ten years ago.
And, despite his protests, Elena insisted on coming along.
"You're still recovering," she argued as they piled into an armored black SUV. "If your heart goes into arrhythmia from the adrenaline, you’ll drop dead before you even pull a trigger. I’m staying with you."
The Vanguard Research Facility was located in a secluded, heavily wooded area near Lake Michigan. When the SUV slammed through the security gates, the facility was completely dark, casting an ominous silhouette against the stormy night sky.
They moved through the glass-and-steel lobby in tight formation. The air smelled of ozone and chemical cleaning agents. The silence was deafening.
Suddenly, the overhead fluorescent lights flashed violently, and a voice echoed over the PA system. It was Julian’s voice, but it sounded frantic, unhinged, and laced with panic.
"You shouldn't have come here, big brother! This is where it ends! You're a relic of the past! The new world doesn't need guys who break kneecaps; it needs guys who control the medicine!"
"Julian!" Roman shouted into the empty corridors, his voice booming like thunder. "Show yourself! Die like a Bellandi, not like a rat hiding in a wall!"
A hail of gunfire answered them.
From the upper balconies, traitorous guards opened fire. Roman’s men immediately returned shots, the deafening roar of automatic weapons filling the enclosed space. Elena was thrown to the floor by Roman, his heavy body shielding her as bullets shattered the glass walls around them, showering them in glittering shards.
"Stay down!" Roman roared, firing his Beretta with deadly accuracy. A man fell from the balcony above, crashing heavily onto a lab table below.
Roman moved forward like a force of nature, systematically eliminating the threats with terrifying precision. He wasn't a dying man anymore; he was a god of war reclaiming his territory.
Elena crawled toward a broken security desk, trying to stay out of the crossfire. Through the smoke and flashing muzzle flares, she saw Julian running down a side corridor, clutching a silver briefcase.
"Roman! He's escaping through the back labs!" she screamed.
Roman heard her. He broke into a sprint, chasing his brother into the heart of the chemical facility. Elena followed, her heart hammering against her ribs, the scent of burning chemicals filling her lungs.
They trapped Julian in the main synthesis lab, surrounded by massive glass vats of bubbling liquids and intricate piping. Julian stood at the edge of a raised platform, a glass vial of pure, concentrated crimson liquid in his hand.
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"Stay back!" Julian shrieked, holding the vial over his head. "This is the pure strain! One drop in the air conditioning system, and everyone in this building dies in seconds!"
Roman stopped ten feet away, his gun raised, leveled directly at his brother’s heart. "It's over, Julian. Put it down."
