Chapter 12 - Crossfire in the AlpsThe gunfire shattered the quiet Alpine morning before we even reached the terminal doors.
Bullets punched through the corrugated metal siding of hangar four, sending a shower of sparks raining down onto the tarmac. Mason returned fire with a calculated, rhythmic burst from his submachine gun, while Gabriel shoved me and the sleeping baby behind the reinforced steel engine housing of our private jet.
"Stay down!" Gabriel ordered, his body acting as an immovable wall between us and the incoming crossfire.
"I have Eli," I shouted over the deafening roar of automatic weapons. I clutched the baby tightly against my chest, my heart hammering furiously against my ribs. "Who are they, Gabriel?"
"Viktor Rostov," Gabriel growled, his face twisted into a mask of pure, lethal fury as he checked the magazine of his sidearm. "The Russian Bratva’s European chief. Vance didn't act alone five years ago—he was laundering money for Rostov's syndicate through our construction fronts."
Across the tarmac, three black SUVs slammed to a halt, disgorging a dozen heavily armed men wearing tactical gear marked with an unfamiliar emblem. They weren't just trying to rob us; they were trying to recover the master ledger I had locked away in our encrypted servers.
"They want the European asset keys," I realized aloud, my accountant's logic kicking in even as bullets ricocheted off the jet turbine inches away. "If they get those keys, they control every shipping lane and real estate holding from Chicago to Berlin."
Gabriel looked down at me, his gaze fierce, possessive, and entirely fearless. "They aren't getting a damn thing."
With fluid, terrifying precision, Gabriel surged out from behind the engine housing, firing three rapid shots that dropped the lead attacker before he could raise his rifle. Mason laid down suppressing fire from the flank, while two local security guards flanked the terminal entrance.
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"Claire!" Gabriel yelled back over his shoulder. "Run for the private terminal stairwell! Mason will cover your six!"
I didn't hesitate. Gripping Eli with one arm, I sprinted across the open concrete, diving headfirst through the heavy glass doors of the terminal just as a fresh wave of bullets shattered the windows behind us.
