Chapter 7 - Blood on the Assembly LineThe interior of the abandoned fish cannery was a cavernous labyrinth of rusted conveyor belts, peeling paint, and frozen brine tanks. The freezing wind whistled through broken skylights, casting long, skeletal shadows across the concrete floor.
Roland and Clara moved silently through the gloom, Goliath padding softly behind them like a silent ghost.
"They're inside," Roland muttered, hearing the crunch of heavy boots on shattered glass near the main entrance. "Vince brought a full squad. They're going to sweep and clear every room until they flush us out."
"We need to trap them," Clara said, her eyes scanning the industrial machinery overhead. "This place hasn't been used in a decade, but the old ammonia refrigeration lines still run through the ceiling panels. If we rupture a valve near the loading bay, the vapor will blind them instantly."
Roland looked at her in astonishment. "You know this building?"
"My father worked here before it shut down," Clara said softly, a shadow of pain crossing her face. "He taught me every inch of it before the harbor syndicate squeezed his shop out of business."
A wave of dark realization washed over Roland. The very syndicate he had built, the ruthless machine he commanded, had crushed countless innocent lives—including the father of the woman now saving his life. A rare pang of deep remorse pierced his hardened soul, but there was no time for regrets. Redemption would have to wait until after the war.
"Lead the way," Roland said, his voice steady and resolute.
Minutes later, heavy footsteps echoed down the central assembly aisle. Vince and four heavily armed mercenaries crept forward, flashlights cutting through the gloom.
"Spread out! He's bleeding, he can't have gone far!" Vince barked, wiping snow from his scarred cheek.
As Vince passed beneath a massive overhead iron valve, Clara whispered, "Now!"
Roland threw his full weight against the rusted wheel valve, snapping the locking pin. Instantly, a massive hiss of pressurized, freezing ammonia gas erupted from the overhead pipes, enveloping Vince and his front guards in a blinding white cloud.
"Agh! I can't see! Gas! Gas!" a mercenary screamed, dropping his weapon as he clawed at his eyes.
Before Vince could recover, Goliath lunged from the shadows like a gray avalanche, slamming his massive jaws onto Vince’s forearm and pinning the enforcer to the concrete floor with bone-crushing force.
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Roland stepped out of the mist, towering over Vince like an executioner. He grabbed Vince by the collar of his tactical vest, hoisting him off the ground with terrifying strength.
"Tell Curtis," Roland whispered, his voice dripping with venom, "that the boss is coming home."
