Chapter 2 - The Ambush
Claire screamed in absolute terror and dropped to the floor.
Bullets shredded the expensive espresso machines above her head.
Hot water and roasted coffee beans exploded violently across the tile.
Dorian moved with a speed that defied logic.
He tackled Claire behind the solid oak counter, completely shielding her body with his own.
"Get down!" Petra yelled from the kitchen area.
The fifteen bodyguards did not panic or hesitate for a single second.
They drew heavy weapons from inside their tailored suits and returned fire with absolute precision.
The small cafe filled with the deafening roar of gunfire and the bitter smell of sulfur.
"Maddie!" Claire shrieked, struggling frantically to push Dorian off of her.
"My daughter is in the back room!"
Dorian's eyes widened in sheer horror.
"Bull!" Dorian roared over the chaotic gunfire.
"Secure the back room right now!"
The giant bald man immediately abandoned his tactical position by the broken window.
He charged through the kitchen doors like a runaway freight train.
Claire tried to crawl after him, but Dorian grabbed her arm and pinned her to the floor.
"You will die if you stand up," Dorian warned fiercely.
"Let me go!" Claire sobbed, fighting his iron grip with all her strength.
"I have to get to her!"
Dorian looked at the unyielding, desperate terror in the mother's eyes.
He finally let go of her arm and drew his own heavy pistol.
"Stay right behind me," Dorian ordered.
They crawled on their hands and knees through the shattered glass and spilled chicken soup.
Bullets tore through the plaster walls just inches above their heads.
They finally reached the swinging wooden doors of the back storage room.
Bull was standing in the center of the small space.
He was holding a terrified, crying seven-year-old girl safely against his massive chest.
Claire lunged forward and pulled Maddie into her arms, weeping with profound relief.
The gunfire outside the cafe suddenly stopped.
An eerie, heavy silence fell over the ruined building.
"Did they retreat?" Toby called out nervously from the front counter.
Dorian sniffed the air and felt his blood turn completely to ice.
"No," Dorian whispered.
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"They threw Molotov cocktails."
Bright orange flames rapidly began creeping under the front door of the cafe.
