Chapter 3 - Fire and FangThe hiss turned into a blinding white roar as the incendiary flare ignited the dry cedar shingles of the porch overhang. Acrid black smoke began to curl through the upper eaves, leaking into the cabin's rafters with suffocating speed.
"They're smoking us out," Orion growled, shoving past Ren with calculated fury. He couldn't wait any longer. If the roof caught fire, they would be silhouetted targets against the flames.
"Wait!" Ren grabbed a heavy wool blanket from a nearby cot, soaked it completely in a bucket of emergency saline, and tossed it over Aldrich’s body on the table. "Protect his face! If the smoke gets into his lungs while he's unconscious, he's dead!"
Orion nodded once—a silent acknowledgment of her competence—before pivoting toward the door.
He didn't wait for Viktor to kick it in.
With a deafening crash, Orion fired three rapid rounds directly through the wooden panels of the door. The heavy timber splintered outward, accompanied by a sharp, agonized shriek from the porch.
"Gah! Son of a—!" Viktor’s voice shrieked in pain as a bullet clipped his shoulder.
"Clear the porch!" another voice bellowed in panic.
Orion kicked the shattered door wide open, stepping out into the blinding glare of the burning roof shingles and swirling snow. He raised his SIG Sauer, sweeping the barrel left and right.
Two masked operatives in tactical black gear were scrambling backward off the porch, firing blindly into the dark. Orion’s weapon spat fire twice, dropping the rear operative with a clean shot to the thigh.
But Viktor was already behind a thick pine tree, leveling an assault rifle straight at Orion’s chest.
"Die, Steel!" Viktor screamed, squeezing the trigger.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Orion twisted to dive behind the doorframe, but before the bullets could find their mark, a massive shadow launched itself from the side of the cabin like a furry, two-hundred-pound missile.
Caesar.
The giant mastiff hit Viktor square in the chest with bone-crushing force. The mercenary’s rifle flew into the snow as he slammed backward against the trunk of the pine tree, the wind completely knocked out of his lungs.
Caesar didn’t hesitate. He clamped his powerful jaws around Viktor’s forearm, the sound of tearing fabric and splintering bone echoing loudly over the wind.
Viktor shrieked in absolute terror, beating frantically at the dog's thick skull with his free hand, but the mastiff was an immovable wall of muscle and fury.
"Get it off me! Get this damn beast off me!" Viktor choked out, blood spraying onto the white snow.
Orion stepped forward, the barrel of his pistol pressing squarely against Viktor’s forehead. The red glow of the burning porch danced across Orion’s cold, unblinking eyes.
"You had one job, Viktor," Orion whispered, his voice colder than the winter air. "Keep my father safe. Instead, you sold us out for Vance's blood money."
"Wait... Orion... wait, we can—"
Bang.
The shot echoed through the silent mountains, swallowed instantly by the roaring wind.
Viktor went limp. Caesar released his grip, stepping back and shaking his massive head, a streak of dark blood staining his jowls. The mastiff turned his intelligent eyes toward Orion, waiting for the next command.
May you like
Orion lowered his smoking gun, his chest heaving. He turned back toward the cabin door, where Ren stood silhouetted against the dim lamplight inside, watching him with a look that wasn't fear—it was profound realization.
She had just taken in a wounded mob boss, and now her front yard was a crime scene.
