Chapter 2 - The Midnight Intruder
I did not waste a single second trying to negotiate with the armed killer.
I violently threw a heavy bronze statue directly at the assassin's head.
The suppressed pistol fired with a quiet thud, shattering a crystal vase just inches from my shoulder.
I tackled the man aggressively to the hardwood floor before he could aim again.
We fought brutally in the dark, smashing through expensive antique furniture.
I managed to grab a heavy fireplace poker and struck him viciously across the temple.
The assassin collapsed instantly, completely unconscious on the ruined carpet.
I heavily leaned against the wall, gasping for air as adrenaline pumped rapidly through my veins.
I quickly searched the unconscious man's dark tactical jacket for any form of identification.
I found a silver badge proving he was a detective for the local city police department.
Marcus had clearly purchased the absolute loyalty of the authorities to protect his massive criminal empire.
I ran frantically into the kitchen, scooped Ethan into my arms, and rushed out into the heavy snowstorm.
We climbed into my old, reliable truck and sped aggressively down the icy highway.
I knew we could not trust the police, so I drove toward a small gas station to use an untraceable payphone.
I urgently dialed the number of my oldest friend, Thomas, a retired private investigator who owed me his life.
Thomas arrived twenty minutes later in a battered gray sedan, looking completely exhausted.
He stepped out of his car and stared at my six-year-old grandson in pure, unadulterated terror.
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"Arthur, this is absolutely impossible," Thomas stammered, his hands shaking wildly.
"I personally watched this exact child flatline in the intensive care unit three years ago."
