Chapter 18 - THE AMBUSH"Down!" Julian roared, drawing his sidearm in a single, fluid motion before I could even blink.
He shoved Sloane off the sofa onto the floor and pulled me behind the heavy oak bookshelf just as a volley of suppressed gunfire chewed through the drywall above our heads. Wood splinters exploded into the air like confetti.
"Syndicate hit squad," Julian muttered, his eyes sharp and focused as he peered around the edge of the bookshelf and fired two quick, calculated shots toward the kitchen doorway.
A heavy thud echoed from the back hallway, followed by a muffled groan and the clatter of a dropped weapon.
"Mason!" Julian shouted over the sound of shouting voices and heavy boots storming up the back stairwell. "Secure the ring! We have less than sixty seconds before backup arrives!"
Mason didn't hesitate. He vaulted over the kitchen counter, ignored the broken glass, and lunged toward a terrified, screaming Sloane who was curled in a fetal position beneath the kitchen table.
"Give me your hand, Sloane!" Mason ordered, grabbing her right wrist with iron strength.
"No! It's mine! You can't have it!" she shrieked hysterically.
"If you don't take it off right now, you won't have a hand left to wear it on!" Mason snapped, ripping her fingers open and wrenching the platinum band off her knuckle with a sharp, brutal tug.
Another window shattered in the living room as a smoke grenade bounced across the linoleum, hissing violently and filling the room with thick, acrid grey smoke.
"Clear out!" Julian yelled, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward the front door. "We're compromised!"
We burst out of Apartment 204 just as a second wave of armed operatives rounded the corner from the stairwell. Julian fired three precise shots, dropping the lead assailant before kicking open the front building exit.
We sprinted through the freezing Ohio drizzle straight toward the idling SUV, bullets pinging harmlessly against the armored side panels of the vehicle as we piled inside.
May you like
"Drive!" Julian commanded the driver.
The SUV peeled out of the apartment complex parking lot, tires screaming against the asphalt, leaving the smoke, the smoke grenades, and the syndicate hit squad far behind in the rearview mirror.
Related Stories
