Chapter 5 - THE SIEGE OF OAK RIDGEMara’s hand shot out, dousing the kerosene lamp on the table. The cabin plunged into darkness, illuminated only by the dying orange embers of the fireplace.
"Get down," Viktor hissed, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper as he dragged his rocking chair behind the heavy oak kitchen island, clutching the pistol tightly in his right hand.
Bear didn't groww. He sank low to the floor, his muscles coiled like steel springs, his eyes fixed on the splintered front door.
Creeeeak.
The door slowly pushed inward, the remaining deadbolt giving way with a dry snap. Heavy, rhythmic footsteps echoed across the wooden floorboards. Two pairs of boots. Then three.
Flashlights cut through the darkness, their bright white beams slicing across the room, sweeping over the overturned chairs, the bloodstain near the threshold, and the table where the leather pouch of money still lay open.
"Boss is going to be furious," a gruff voice muttered from the shadows near the hallway. "Marcus and Vance didn't just vanish. They're here. Search every inch of this rat hole."
Mara held her breath, pressing her back against the pantry door. Her heart hammered so loudly she was certain they could hear it over the howling wind outside. She glanced toward Viktor. The mafia boss sat motionless, his face carved from ice, the barrel of his pistol leveled precisely at the entrance of the kitchen.
A beam of light swept closer, catching the edge of the kitchen island.
A pair of tactical boots stopped inches from where Viktor was hidden.
"Hey," the gunman whispered to his partner. "Check behind the counter."
The shadow of a man loomed over the island, the muzzle of a rifle dipping downward—
CRASH.
Bear didn't bark. He lunged from the shadows like a freight train.
The dog slammed into the gunman’s chest with staggering force, sending the man crashing backward over the dining table, shattering wood and glass in an explosion of noise.
"Contact! Kitchen!" the second gunman screamed, swinging his rifle around.
He never got to fire.
Viktor rose from behind the island, his upper body braced against the counter, and fired twice. Pop. Pop. The flashes illuminated the dark room in strobes of brilliant white. The gunman dropped instantly, his rifle clattering across the floor.
"Clear the house! Now!" Viktor barked, looking at Mara. "Grab the money bag and my coat! We're moving!"
"Move where? You can't walk!" Mara yelled, adrenaline overriding her terror as she grabbed the heavy pouch of cash and stuffed it into her backpack.
"I can drive," Viktor growled, pulling himself across the floor toward the back door with terrifying speed, dragging his paralyzed legs behind him like dead weight.
They burst through the back door into the blinding snowstorm. Parked behind the woodshed was a sleek, armored black SUV idling in the drifts—the backup vehicle Dante’s men had driven up the ridge.
Bear bounded ahead, leaping into the open driver's side door—which had been left unlocked—and planted his massive paws on the steering wheel, panting happily as if he owned the vehicle.
"Get in the back and pull me up!" Viktor ordered, gripping the edge of the passenger seat.
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Mara grabbed Viktor by the armpits, her muscles screaming as she hauled the heavy, dangerous crime lord into the back seat of the SUV just as a burst of automatic gunfire shattered the rear window of the cabin behind them.
"Hold on!" Viktor roared, slamming the vehicle into reverse and flooring the gas pedal as the SUV rocketed backward into the dark, snowy night.
