Chapter 6 - The Iron WallThe twin headlights of the Bentley flared blindingly bright as the luxury vehicle surged backward, aiming straight for my chest.
I didn't flinch. I didn't jump aside.
Years ago, on a sinking ship engulfed in superheated steam and collapsing steel, I had stared down a crushing bulkhead and found a way through. A luxury car driven by a terrified, out-of-shape billionaire was nothing.
As the car closed the distance, I dropped into a low combat stance, planted my boots firmly into a oil-stained crack in the concrete, and waited until the exact microsecond of impact.
When the rear bumper was three feet away, I lunged forward, grabbing the heavy chrome exhaust tip with both hands, using my upper body strength and core leverage to anchor myself against a concrete support pillar.
CRASH!
The Bentley slammed hard into the pillar, the rear fender crumpling like aluminum foil as the kinetic energy transferred directly into the reinforced concrete. The engine stalled instantly with a mechanical wheeze, smoke billowing from under the hood.
I stepped away from the wreckage, wiping a smear of soot off my sleeve, and walked up to the driver's side window.
The glass was cracked in a spiderweb pattern right where Arthur’s forehead had hit the steering wheel. He was groaning, dazed, blood trickling from a small cut above his eyebrow.
I reached out, hooked my fingers through the cracked window frame, and easily snapped the tempered glass away. Reaching inside, I unlocked the door and pulled it open.
"Get out," I said quietly.
Arthur looked up at me, his billionaire arrogance completely shattered, replaced by the pathetic whimpering of a cornered coward.
"Please, Clarissa..." he choked out, blood dripping onto his silk shirt. "I'm... I'm your father. Family... family takes care of its own."
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"You lost the right to that word the day you signed off on those structural waivers," I replied, grabbing him by the collar of his tuxedo and hauling him out of the car onto the cold concrete.
Just then, the screech of sirens echoed down the ramp as three NCIS cruisers and two squad cars from the Metropolitan Police Department swarmed into the basement, their red and blue emergency lights painting the concrete in flashing neon streaks.
