Chapter 7 - The Crimson Cathedral
The peaceful quiet of Saint Jude’s Cathedral exploded into violent chaos as heavy gunfire erupted across the nave.
Muzzle flashes illuminated the ancient stained-glass windows,
casting jagged crimson and gold lights against the stone pillars.
Don Antonio and Madam Chen ducked behind the heavy oak pews,
their personal security detail instantly returning fire to protect their leaders.
Gideon used Viktor as a human shield,
hauling the screaming syndicate leader backward into the shadows of the side altar.
"Shoot him!"
Viktor shrieked at his remaining men,
clutching his broken wrist while blood dripped from his torn fingers onto the marble floor.
"Kill Gideon! Kill him now!"
Lucas stepped into the central aisle,
firing his silenced rifle with deadly,
robotic precision.
Two of Viktor’s mercenaries crumpled to the floor,
their tactical armor pierced by high-velocity armor-piercing rounds.
Sparks flew off the iron candelabras as bullets ripped through the air,
shattering porcelain statues of saints into clouds of white dust.
Damian Vane,
who had been waiting near the cathedral entrance,
flanked around the baptismal font with an automatic shotgun in his hands.
"Gideon!"
Damian yelled over the deafening roar of gunfire.
"You won't leave this holy house alive!"
Damian fired two heavy 12-gauge rounds,
blasting apart the thick oak pew Gideon had been using for cover moments earlier.
Wood splinters rained down like shrapnel through the dark aisle.
Gideon released his grip on Viktor,
allowing the treacherous leader to scramble backward toward the emergency exit behind the choir loft.
"Lucas! Cover the left aisle!"
Gideon commanded,
rolling across the altar steps as bullets chipped away the stone beneath his boots.
Gideon raised his custom handgun,
aiming through the smoke and dust at Damian Vane.
He pulled the trigger twice.
The first round struck Damian’s shoulder,
knocking him backward against a massive stone pillar.
The second round struck Damian’s shotgun,
shattering the wooden stock and rendering the weapon completely useless.
Damian cursed violently,
clutching his bleeding arm as he backed through the shattered stained-glass window leading into the rear courtyard.
"Gideon!"
Elena’s voice crackled through Gideon's radio headset over the noise of battle.
"Gideon,
do you copy?"
"I copy,
Elena!"
Gideon answered,
reloading his handgun with a swift,
practiced motion.
"Viktor is fleeing through the east wing toward his armored convoy!"
Elena reported urgently.
"He left half his men behind to pin you down inside the cathedral!"
"He won't make it to his cars,"
Gideon declared,
stepping out from behind the marble altar.
He looked toward Don Antonio,
who was being escorted out by his guards.
"Antonio!"
Gideon called out over the dying gunfire.
"Are you standing with me or with the murderer of children?"
Don Antonio wiped gunsmoke from his mustache,
looking down at the fallen mercenaries wearing Vance family crests.
"The Council stands with you,
Crosswell,"
Antonio declared solemnly.
"Viktor Vance is hereby stripped of his rank,
his territory,
and his life."
"Every family in Chicago will hunt him down."
Gideon nodded once,
a grim,
unforgiving expression settling onto his face.
"Tell your families to fall back,"
Gideon said.
"This head belongs to me."
Gideon sprinted through the long,
dark hallway leading behind the choir loft.
The smell of cordite and copper filled the air,
mixing with the faint scent of frankincense.
He kicked open the heavy iron exit door,
bursting out into the icy rain of the rear courtyard.
Fifty yards away,
Viktor Vance was being dragged toward a black armored limousine by three surviving guards.
The driver slammed the limousine into gear,
its heavy tires spinning furiously against the wet cobblestones as it accelerated toward the stone gateway.
"Gideon!"
Lucas called out,
bursting through the door behind him with three of their own tactical soldiers.
"He's getting away toward the river district!"
"He thinks he's getting away,"
Gideon corrected,
running toward his own armored sedan waiting at the edge of the courtyard.
He jumped into the driver's seat,
slammed the door shut,
and engaged the high-performance twin-turbo engine.
The vehicle roared to life with a deep,
guttural growl that echoed off the cathedral walls.
Gideon threw the gear shift into drive and smashed through the iron gates,
May you like
pursuing Viktor Vance’s fleeing limousine into the dark,
rain-slicked streets of Chicago.
