Chapter 7 - THE RIDGEWAY AMBUSHThe freezing rain started up again, turning the steep incline of the Blackwood ridge into a slick, treacherous slip-and-slide. Liam whimpered against Dante’s shoulder, his small arms wrapped tightly around the mob boss’s neck. Despite his severe abdominal injury and blood loss, Dante moved with astonishing speed and endurance, driven by pure adrenaline and an unyielding iron will.
“Keep moving! Don't look back!” Dante urged, shielding Liam with his own body as they scrambled behind a massive granite boulder.
Footsteps crunched on the wet leaves behind them. A harsh whisper cut through the mist.
“Over here! I see tracks! They went toward the old logging road!”
Natalie spun around, raising the Glock. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. Out of the fog emerged two of Viktor’s mercenaries, assault rifles raised, scanning the trees.
Before Natalie could pull the trigger, Goliath moved.
The hundred-and-sixty-pound mastiff didn't bark. He was a silent, terrifying avalanche of muscle and fury. He slammed directly into the lead mercenary, taking him to the ground with a sickening crunch of bone. The second mercenary panicked, raising his rifle to fire at the dog.
Natalie squeezed the trigger. Bang. Bang.
The recoil kicked hard against her wrist. The second mercenary dropped his weapon, clutching his shoulder as he tumbled backward down the muddy embankment.
“Goliath, here! Heel!” Natalie hissed, her voice sharp.
The mastiff instantly disengaged, trotting back to Natalie’s side, his chest heaving, his jaws dripping with mud and blood. He gave a sharp huff, looking up at her as if asking for a treat.
“Good boy,” Natalie breathed, her hands shaking uncontrollably now that the immediate danger had passed.
Dante checked the fallen men. “They’re out cold. But Viktor will know where we are within two minutes. The logging road is just past this ridge. My car—an armored bulletproof SUV—is parked near the old ranger station. We make it there, we win.”
They scrambled up the final stretch of the ridge, bursting out onto the overgrown gravel path of the old logging road. Parked in the shadows of towering pine trees sat a matte-black Escalade, unassuming to the casual eye, but heavily armored and modified.
Dante pulled a key fob from his pocket and clicked the doors unlocked. He bundled Liam into the back seat, strapping the boy in quickly, while Natalie slid into the passenger side, keeping the Glock aimed out the cracked window.
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Dante slid into the driver's seat, slamming the door shut. He jammed the key into the ignition and fired up the heavy V8 engine. The vehicle roared to life, its headlights slicing through the dense fog.
“Hold on,” Dante muttered, shifting the SUV into drive. “It’s going to get bumpy.”
