Chapter 7 - The Clock Runs Out
The abandoned shipping container smelled heavily of rust, saltwater, and dried blood.
Maren woke up tied tightly to a cold metal chair, her arms aching and her head throbbing violently.
Her newborn baby was crying softly in a small wooden crate on the other side of the dark, damp room.
Vincent Hale stood over her, casually wiping a sharp hunting knife with a dirty, oil-stained cloth.
"Damien always was a massive fool for a pretty face," Vincent mocked, stepping slowly closer to the wooden crate.
Maren pulled frantically against her thick zip-ties, her wrists bleeding profusely from the intense friction.
"Don't you dare touch her!" Maren screamed, her fierce maternal instincts completely overriding her fear.
Vincent laughed loudly, deeply enjoying the absolute power he held over his former boss's innocent family.
He explained that killing Damien's only heir was the final, necessary step to securing his total control over the Chicago syndicate.
Maren knew Damien was coming for her, but she also knew he might arrive entirely too late.
She subtly twisted her bloody, lubricated wrist, finally feeling the plastic zip-tie snap under the extreme pressure.
She did not immediately jump up, waiting patiently for the absolute perfect moment to strike.
Vincent turned his broad back to her, reaching down into the wooden crate to grab the crying infant.
Maren lunged from the metal chair with a primal scream, tackling the massive man to the rusty floor.
She grabbed a heavy iron wrench dropped near the doorway and swung it wildly at his head.
Vincent easily blocked her weak, exhausted attack and backhanded her brutally across the face.
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Maren collapsed heavily, spitting warm blood onto the floor as Vincent aimed a heavy pistol directly at her chest.
"Say goodbye to your miserable life," Vincent sneered, placing his finger firmly on the trigger.
