Chapter 7 - Crossfire"Get down!"
Maya screamed the warning from the shadows of the doorway, her voice piercing the stormy air just as the first gunshot shattered the overhead floodlights. Glass rained down in a glittering cascade of shrapnel.
Chaos erupted in a fraction of a second. Vincent didn't hesitate; he lunged forward, tackling Isabella out of the chair just as a high-powered bullet slammed into the wooden backrest where she had been sitting a second before, splintering it into kindling.
"Sniper on the catwalks! Sector four!" a guard shouted, returning fire with a rapid burst from his submachine gun.
Duke didn't wait for a command. The 150-pound Cane Corso charged straight up the rusted metal exterior stairs of the warehouse like a missile, his low, savage roar echoing over the crack of gunfire.
Maya pressed her back against the corrugated metal wall of the warehouse, her heart pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird. She watched in horror as more armed figures emerged from the shadows between the shipping containers—Moretti’s hitmen, moving in to finish the job.
Vincent pushed Isabella behind a concrete barrier, handing her to a trusted guard. “Get her to the armored car, now!” he barked, before drawing his 9mm pistol and rolling behind a steel drum just as a hail of bullets chewed up the ground where he had been standing.
He was pinned. Two men in black tactical gear were advancing on his position from the left flank, their weapons raised. Vincent fired twice, dropping the first man, but his slide locked back with a dry click—he was out of ammo.
From her vantage point near the doorway, Maya spotted something else. On the ground near her feet lay an abandoned assault rifle dropped by a wounded guard.
She didn't think. Training, fear, and logic vanished. She dropped to her knees, grabbed the heavy metal weapon, and scrambled forward.
"Vincent!" she yelled over the deafening roar of gunfire.
He looked up, his dark eyes widening in shock as he saw her charging right into the line of fire.
"Maya, get back!" he shouted.
Instead of running, Maya planted her feet, closed her eyes for a split second, remembered the recoil drills she had watched the guards practice through the laundry room window, and pulled the trigger.
Rat-tat-tat-tat!
The heavy spray of bullets ripped across the concrete floor just inches in front of the advancing hitman, shattering a metal crate and sending him diving headfirst behind cover.
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Vincent didn't waste a second. He lunged forward, tackling the pinned assailant and subduing him with a brutal, lightning-fast strike to the temple.
Silence fell over the warehouse courtyard as quickly as the violence had begun, broken only by the heavy panting of the guards and the sharp, angry barks of Duke high up on the catwalks, where the last sniper was currently pinned against the railing.
