"When the ruthless Mafia boss unboxed his birthday gifts, he never expected to find his own starving, barefoot grandson freezing in the snow—and the bloody revenge that followed." / Chapter 26 / 60

Chapter 26 - Iron and ash

The snowplow slammed directly into two Rossi consortium armored SUVs parked inside the bay, crushing them like empty soda cans against the support pillars. The impact sent a shockwave of dust, diesel smoke, and shattered glass across the foundry.

"Ambush!" Elena screamed, dropping to one knee and opening fire on the driver's cab with an armor-piercing magazine.

Three other mercenaries positioned on the catwalks immediately laid down a crisscrossing web of gunfire, turning the truck's windshield into spiderwebs of reinforced safety glass. But the driver's seat was completely empty. The accelerator had been tied down with a heavy leather belt.

From the dark, shadowed rafters thirty feet above their heads, the reckoning descended.

Richard had scaled the exterior crane ten minutes prior. He dropped through the skylight, landing with thunderous precision on the high catwalk directly behind the two elevated snipers.

Before the first shooter could turn his rifle, Richard drove the heavy steel barrel of his combat shotgun into the base of the man's skull, sending him over the railing to break his spine on the concrete floor below. The second sniper swung his weapon around, but Richard fired from the hip at zero range. The heavy buckshot round tore through the man's chest rig, vaporizing him backward into the darkness of the rafters.

Down on the ground floor, Arthur grabbed Noah by the hair, hauling the screaming boy out of the chair as he pulled his gold-plated revolver. "Elena! Cover the retreat to the submarine! Kill him!"

Elena didn't hesitate. She sprinted toward the metal stairs leading up to the catwalk, firing short, controlled bursts as she climbed. "Richard! You should have stayed in the fire with your daughter!"

Richard didn't answer with words. He racked another shell into the chamber and jumped from the catwalk, landing heavily on the roof of a blue shipping container fifteen feet below, his damaged knee buckling with searing pain. He ignored it, rolling forward onto his feet and dropping down onto the concrete directly in front of the technician's medical cart.

The technician raised his hands in terror, falling to his knees. "Don't shoot! I'm just a doctor! I don't work for them!"

Richard swung the heavy steel receiver of the shotgun across the man's jaw, knocking him instantly unconscious into the puddle of oil beneath the cart. He turned his gaze toward the open bay doors leading out to the docks.

Through the rain and fog, he saw Arthur dragging Noah toward the gangway of the black submarine.

"Arthur!" Richard’s voice cut through the howling gale of the Atlantic storm like thunder.

Arthur stopped at the edge of the pier, fifty feet out in the open rain. He pulled Noah up against his chest, wrapping his left arm around the child's neck, using the boy as a complete human shield. The barrel of the gold revolver was pressed hard against Noah's right temple.