Chapter 15 - Blood on the Snow
The revelation struck me harder than any bullet could have.
I walked over to Eleanor's leather bag, unzipped the main compartment, and pulled out the two thick, leather-bound books.
The ledgers.
The exact documents that detailed every illicit transaction, every cartel payoff, and every offshore money-laundering route my syndicate had utilized for the past seven years.
"Arthur didn't just want us dead," I realized, staring at the damning books. "He wanted us to hand-deliver the keys to his new kingdom."
Victor sat up on the medical table, ignoring the fresh bandages on his shoulder.
"If Arthur knows you brought the ledgers, he knows you won't throw them away," Victor said grimly. "He will track us. He will burn this mountain to the ground to get those books."
"How can he track us?" I demanded. "We dumped his cars. We left our phones."
Eleanor let out a sharp gasp, suddenly clutching her stomach. She doubled over, gripping the edge of the steel counter as a wave of intense pain washed over her.
"Eleanor!" I dropped the ledgers and caught her before she hit the floor.
Her face was pale, glistening with cold sweat.
"The baby," Eleanor gasped, breathing heavily. "The stress... it's happening too early, Lucian. I'm going into labor."
Panic, pure and absolute, finally broke through my hardened exterior.
I lifted her into my arms and carried her to a pristine hospital bed in the adjacent room.
"I need painkillers, sterile towels, and hot water," I ordered Victor, my voice frantic.
Victor nodded, pushing himself off the table despite his injury. He began gathering the medical supplies, moving with the cold efficiency of a soldier.
As I laid Eleanor down, trying to calm her rapid breathing, the distinct sound of heavy helicopter rotors echoed through the valley.
I froze, looking out the reinforced window.
Two black, unmarked tactical helicopters were cutting through the blizzard, descending rapidly toward the clinic's private helipad.
"Arthur found us," Victor announced, tossing me a loaded assault rifle from the clinic's emergency armory.
I looked at my wife, who was writhing in agony on the bed, entirely helpless.
Arthur Vance hadn't just tracked us; he had cornered us at our most vulnerable moment.
"Barricade the doors," I commanded Victor, racking the bolt of my rifle. "Nobody gets into this room."
Victor dragged heavy medical cabinets in front of the primary entrances, locking down the trauma wing.
"Lucian," Eleanor cried out, gripping my hand with terrifying strength. "You have to protect him. Do whatever it takes."
I kissed her forehead, my heart breaking at the fear in her eyes.
"I will kill every single man on that mountain before I let them touch you," I promised her.
I walked away from the bed and took a defensive position behind a reinforced concrete pillar facing the hallway doors.
Victor took position on the opposite side, aiming his weapon flawlessly despite his wounded shoulder.
"Just like the old days, boss," Victor said, a dark smile playing on his lips.
"Just like the old days," I agreed.
The heavy steel doors at the end of the corridor suddenly exploded inward, blown off their hinges by a massive shaped charge.
Smoke and concrete dust flooded the hallway.
Through the haze, a dozen heavily armed cartel mercenaries poured into the clinic, wearing snow gear and night-vision goggles.
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They were here to slaughter my family.
I didn't wait for them to find us. I opened fire, letting the absolute rage in my soul guide every bullet.
