Chapter 6 - The Confession in the SmokeThe smoke cleared in thick, choking billows as the last of the mercenaries retreated into the labyrinth of shipping containers, dragging their wounded behind them.
Sirens wailed in the distance—real police this time, alerted by the automated silent alarms.
Dominic stood over a downed mercenary, pressing the toe of his boot against the man’s throat. A silver pendant hung from the mercenary’s tactical vest—a crest featuring a coiled viper biting its own tail.
The crest of the Iron Cross Syndicate.
"Who sent you?" Dominic demanded, pressing down harder.
The mercenary coughed up a mixture of blood and soot, a grotesque grin twisting his lips. "You... you're fighting ghosts, Vale. The girl... the nanny... she was only the messenger."
Evelyn stepped up beside Dominic, looking down at the dying man. She didn't flinch at the blood. Instead, her eyes narrowed as she stared at a tattoo on the mercenary’s forearm—a string of numerical coordinates.
"That's not a syndicate tattoo," Evelyn murmured, kneeling down despite the danger. She grabbed the man's wrist, reading the numbers. "Those are GPS coordinates. To a private estate in the Swiss Alps."
The mercenary let out a wet, rattling laugh. "Too late... the package is already moving."
His head slumped sideways. Dead.
Dominic stood up slowly, his jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek. He looked down at Evelyn, who was wiping a smudge of soot from her cheek with the back of her gloved hand.
"What package?" Dominic asked.
Evelyn rose to her feet, her expression grim. "Noah. Mara didn't just try to poison him tonight. She was stalling us. While we were distracted by the attempt on his life in the nursery, a secondary extraction team was scheduled to hit the main estate."
Dominic froze.
The main estate. Where his deaf, loyal elderly housekeeper and two junior guards were currently stationed.
"My phone," Dominic cursed, pulling it out. No signal. They were jamming the local frequencies.
"We need to move," Evelyn said, her voice dropping into a register of pure command. She didn't wait for his permission. She turned, hopped into the driver's seat of Dominic’s bullet-riddled SUV, and hot-wired the ignition panel with two snapped dashboard wires in less than four seconds.
Dominic stared at her through the shattered driver's window, stunned.
"Are you coming, Mr. Vale?" Evelyn looked up, a dangerous, beautiful spark dancing in her grey eyes. "Or do you intend to stand there looking at scenery while your nephew is kidnapped?"
May you like
Dominic didn't hesitate. He vaulted into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut.
"Drive," he ordered.
