Chapter 8 - Collision in the Courtyard
The crash sounded like a freight train hitting a brick wall.
The Mercedes’ front end crumpled like tin foil, airbags deploying with a violent white pop that filled the cabin with the acrid smell of burning propellant.
Across the courtyard, the lead Explorer spun sideways on the wet cobblestones, slamming into the brick buttress of the church bell tower with enough force to shatter its rear window into a thousand sparkling diamonds.
The two men working the hydraulic spreader dropped their tools and scrambled backward, drawing pistols from their tactical drop-legs.
I didn't wait for them to find their balance.
I kicked the driver’s side door open against the crushed fender, unclipped my Sig Sauer, and stepped out into the freezing November rain.
The first man raised his Glock, but before his finger could squeeze the trigger, a suppressed shot cracked from the shadow of the coal chute.
He dropped to his knees, clutching his shoulder.
Nico stepped out from the darkness, his submachine gun smoking in the damp air.
“Boss! The back stairwell is clear! Sister Beatrice is waiting with the girl!”
“Cover the perimeter!” I shouted, returning fire toward the second Explorer as two more gunmen scrambled out of its side doors.
Glass shattered. Bullets chipped the old Victorian brickwork around my head, sending red dust flying into my eyes.
I fired twice—controlled, center mass—and the nearest gunman dropped his weapon, spinning against the side of the vehicle before collapsing into a pile of wet autumn leaves.
The remaining two men didn't wait for reinforcements. They dragged their wounded companion back into the surviving SUV, threw it into reverse, and tore out through the iron gates, shearing the hinges clean off the stone pillars.
Silence settled back over the courtyard, broken only by the steady hiss of steam rising from the radiator of my wrecked Mercedes.
“Boss, you hit?” Nico asked, jogging over.
May you like
“No.”
I wiped the rain and airbag powder from my face, shoved the pistol back into my shoulder holster, and sprinted toward the rear cellar door of the orphanage.
