Chapter 3 - The Broken Sanctuary
Glass and shattered red bricks rained down across the checkered tile floor. Noah was thrown violently backward by the immense concussive force of the impact. Thick dust choked the air as the massive diesel engine of the armored truck roared. The lone surviving biker turned and sprinted out the back kitchen door in sheer panic. Noah coughed heavily, struggling to push a fallen barstool off his aching chest. The heavy steel doors of the imposing truck swung open with a metallic screech. Four towering men in dark tactical gear stepped out, holding advanced assault rifles. They were clearly elite professional mercenaries, not just common street thugs. Noah watched in absolute horror as they aimed their laser sights at the old man. "Elias Vance, your time is finally up," the lead mercenary announced with a cold grin. The old man, now known as Elias, stood up slowly and dusted off his soaked coat. He looked at the heavily armed mercenaries with an expression of pure, unfiltered boredom. Noah realized this seemingly frail stranger was someone incredibly dangerous. "You brought a whole tactical squad for just one old man?" Elias chuckled softly. The mercenary leader cocked his powerful rifle and aimed directly at Elias's head. "We brought an army to make sure there are no witnesses left behind," the leader stated. He mercilessly turned the barrel of his smoking gun directly toward Noah. Noah froze completely, staring down the dark, deadly barrel of the assault rifle. He closed his eyes tightly, bracing himself for the painful and inevitable gunshot. A deafening bang echoed through the ruined diner, but Noah felt absolutely no pain. He slowly opened his eyes to see the mercenary leader collapsing backward onto the floor. A perfectly placed bullet hole was smoking in the center of the mercenary's tactical helmet.
