Chapter 10 - The Crossfire On The Grand Staircase And The Confrontation With Salvatore
“Now!”
Kai’s command cut through the smoke-filled air of the grand foyer like a gunshot.
We both rose from behind the carved wooden banister, leveling our pistols with cold, calculated precision.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The deafening roar of gunfire echoed off the high vaulted ceilings of the mansion, shaking the crystal chandelier overhead until its prisms chimed like broken glass.
The two lead tactical guards on the staircase spun backward under the impact, tumbling down the marble steps in a heap of black tactical gear and shattered weapons.
“Contact! Second-floor landing! Suppressing fire!” a panicked voice screamed from below.
The remaining three intruders dropped flat onto the steps, returning blind, furious fire that chewed up the mahogany banister wood right beside my shoulder in a flurry of flying splinters.
“Keep them pinned!” Kai shouted, leaning out just enough to squeeze off two more rapid shots that forced the attackers to duck behind the reinforced stone pillars of the foyer.
I shifted my aim, squeezed the trigger of the Sig Sauer, and caught the barrel of an attacker’s assault rifle, shattering his scope and sending him scrambling backward into the smoke.
“Maya, cover the left flank!” Kai barked, pivoting toward the corridor leading to the library.
Before I could answer, a loud, metallic clatter echoed from the western hallway.
Someone had bypassed the front stairs entirely, scaling the exterior drainpipe to smash through the second-floor stained-glass window near the library entrance.
Glass rained down across the Persian runner as a heavy-set man in a tailored gray suit stepped out of the smoke, brushing powdered glass off his shoulders with an arrogant, unhurried gesture.
He wasn't wearing a tactical ski mask.
He had a neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard, cold blue eyes, and a thin, cruel scar running from the corner of his left eye down to his jawline.
Salvatore Vance.
“Well, well,” Salvatore purred, his voice echoing smoothly through the smoke-filled corridor as he leveled a polished silver revolver directly at my chest. “Look what crawled out of the Boston ashes. Hello, little mouse.”
I froze, my finger tightening on the trigger of my Sig Sauer, but before I could swing the barrel toward his chest, a dark shadow erupted from the side alcove.
Kai.
He didn't fire his gun. He dropped it instantly, closed the distance between them with explosive, terrifying violence, and tackled Salvatore straight through the open doorway of the library.
The two men crashed into a towering mahogany bookshelf, sending hundreds of priceless leather-bound volumes spilling across the floor in a massive avalanche of paper and dust.
“Kai!” I screamed, sprinting down the hallway toward the library, my pistol raised.
Inside the vast, wood-paneled room, Kai and Salvatore were locked in a brutal, silent struggle on the floor, trading vicious punches and rolling over shattered glass.
Salvatore managed to wrench his silver revolver free, leveling the barrel toward Kai’s head.
I didn't hesitate.
I raised the Sig Sauer, aimed with absolute, cold focus, and squeezed the trigger.
Crack!
The bullet caught Salvatore’s right wrist, shattering bone and sending the silver revolver spinning uselessly across the Persian rug.
Salvatore screamed, clutching his mangled hand to his chest, rolling over in agony.
Kai stood up slowly, breathing heavily, blood dripping from a cut above his eye, his dark eyes burning with the cold fury of a man who had finally hunted down his demons.
He walked over, grabbed Salvatore by the collar of his ruined gray suit, and dragged him up until his feet barely touched the floor.
“It’s over, Salvatore,” Kai whispered, his voice like grinding stone.
May you like
Sirens began to wail in the distance outside the iron gates—federal task force units and state police responding to Arthur’s encrypted emergency beacon.
The war was won.
