Chapter 5 - Blood on the Velvet"Vance! You hiding behind a stray mutt and a girl?" a mocking voice echoed through the ruined doorway.
Three heavily armed men wearing ski masks and tactical vests poured into the suite, automatic rifles raised. They were Syndicate hitmen, sent to finish what the alley ambush started.
Vance didn't panic. He moved with terrifying, preternatural speed. Two deafening thips echoed from his suppressed pistol, and the lead hitman dropped instantly, a clean red hole drilled dead center between his eyes.
The second gunman swung his rifle toward Josie.
"No!" Josie screamed.
Without thinking, Vance lunged forward, using his own body as a shield to shove Josie down behind the heavy mahogany desk just as a burst of automatic gunfire chewed up the velvet headboard and shattered the crystal chandelier.
Glass rained down like diamonds. Vance returned fire blindly around the corner of the desk, dropping the second assailant with a double tap to the chest. The third gunman panicked, turning to flee down the hallway, but before he could reach the stairs, a terrifying, guttural roar shook the entire mansion.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
A massive, black shadow bounded down the corridor. It was Nero. Despite his fresh stitches and bandaged flank, the giant Cane Corso launched himself through the air like a missile, tackling the fleeing hitman to the marble floor with bone-crushing force.
Silence descended upon the floor, broken only by the heavy panting of the wounded dog and the sharp click of Vance checking his magazine.
Vance slowly stood up, brushing plaster dust off his shoulders, and looked down at Josie, who was shaking uncontrollably under the desk, her hands covered in white drywall powder.
"Are you hit?" Vance asked, his voice uncharacteristically urgent as he offered her a hand.
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Josie took his hand, letting him pull her up. "I... I'm fine. But your dog... he’s going to rip his stitches open!"
Vance looked over at Nero, who was standing proudly over his subdued target, tail wagging ever so slightly as he looked at Vance for approval. Vance let out a low, rare chuckle, walking over to pat the dog’s massive neck. "Good boy, Nero. Rest. Leave the trash to me."
