Chapter 9 - The Final Stand
Marcus signaled to one of the masked men, who stepped toward the van holding a heavy plastic canister of industrial gasoline.
"No! Don't touch her!" Darra shrieked, kicking wildly, managing to catch one of her captors square in the shin. He cursed, slamming her head down against the metal hood of the van. A blinding flash of white pain exploded behind her eyes, and warm blood trickled down her forehead.
Through a haze of dizziness, she saw the man pour gasoline over the front tires of the van and toss a burning flare onto the gravel.
"Wait," a cold, iron voice echoed through the dark quarry.
Marcus froze. The masked men whipped around.
Standing at the entrance of the logging road, backlit by the headlights of a battered, bullet-riddled sedan, was Aiden Ashworth. His suit jacket was torn, his shirt was stained with soot and blood, and in his right hand, he held an assault rifle, pointed with absolute, terrifying precision straight at Marcus's chest.
"Aiden?" Marcus stammered, his color draining instantly. "How... how did you get out of the estate?"
"You forgot, Marcus," Aiden said, his voice dropping to a deadly, glacial hum as he stepped closer into the light. "I designed the estate's security network. Every hidden door, every escape route, every fail-safe... including the tracker embedded in your tactical comms."
Marcus’s hand dropped toward his holster, but he was too slow.
Bang.
Aiden’s rifle fired, shattering Marcus’s shoulder and spinning him around into the dirt with a sharp cry of agony. The two masked men instantly dropped their weapons, raising their hands in the air as red and blue police lights suddenly flooded the quarry from every direction, sirens wailing through the night. State troopers swarmed the area in seconds, pinning the mercenaries to the ground.
Aiden didn't look at Marcus. He dropped his weapon, sprinted past the police officers, and ripped open the side door of the van.
"Daddy!"
May you like
Chloe flew out of the vehicle straight into Aiden's arms. He buried his face in her hair, his massive frame shaking with a mix of adrenaline and overwhelming relief. He held her tight, as if letting go would make her disappear.
Then, his icy blue eyes locked onto Darra, who was sliding down the side of the van, bleeding and exhausted.
