Chapter 8 - Sam’s Counterattack and the Explosive Turn of the Tide
Before O'Leary’s finger could squeeze the trigger, the ceiling above the front entrance exploded in a shower of plasterboard and dust.
Bang! Bang-bang!
From the second-story loft overhead—an old storage space nobody had checked—Sam rained down suppressive fire with a tactical shotgun, sending O'Leary’s men scrambling for cover behind the brick pillars.
"Now, Nora!" Vincent shouted.
He didn't hesitate.
With one hand, he lunged into the wall compartment, snatched the heavy brass key by its red ribbon, and with the other, he scooped Nora off her feet, throwing her over his shoulder exactly the way he had done at the Velvet Room just twelve hours earlier.
"Put me down! I can run!" she screamed, pounding her fists against his back as he sprinted toward the rear emergency exit of the bakery.
"Not a chance!" Vincent roared, kicking open the rotting back door with the heel of his boot just as a submachine gun burst chewed up the drywall inches from his head.
They burst out into the narrow alleyway behind West Fourth Street just as Sam dropped down from the loft overhead, landing in a crouch while firing two smoke grenades into the bakery floor.
Thick, choking white smoke billowed out of the doorway, blinding O'Leary’s men and filling the alley with an acrid, blinding fog.
"To the car!" Sam barked, covering their retreat as bullets whined off the brick walls around them.
Vincent shoved Nora into the rear passenger seat of a second black SUV waiting in the alley, sliding in right behind her and slamming the heavy armored door shut.
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"Drive!" Vincent commanded.
The SUV lurched forward, tires spinning on the wet cobblestones as they rocketed out of the alley just as O'Leary staggered out into the open, coughing through the smoke and shaking his fist in impotent fury.
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