Chapter 2 - The Siege
Gunfire erupted instantly, the deafening cracks echoing through the sterile halls of the underground clinic.
Dominic drew his weapon, his mind racing through tactical possibilities as the alarm sirens wailed.
Caldwell hadn’t just tracked her.
He had launched a full-scale assault on an Ashford stronghold within an hour of her extraction.
This meant they had a mole.
"Stay down and do not make a sound," Dominic ordered Evangeline, his voice leaving absolutely no room for debate.
She didn't argue.
She slid awkwardly off the hospital bed, her face contorted in pain, and wedged herself beneath the heavy metal frame.
Dominic stepped out into the hallway just as two heavily armed men rounded the corner.
He fired twice, precise and lethal, dropping them both before they could even aim their rifles.
Marco appeared at the end of the corridor, his face smeared with blood from a shallow cut on his forehead.
"They brought a small army, Dom," Marco yelled over the noise. "We're completely cut off from the main exit."
"The freight elevator," Dominic commanded, moving quickly past the bodies.
He grabbed Evangeline by the arm, hauling her roughly but securely to her feet.
She gasped in pain but kept her mouth shut, matching his hurried pace as best as her battered body allowed.
They reached the heavy steel doors of the service elevator just as a grenade detonated in the lobby above them.
The entire building shook violently, dust and debris raining down from the ceiling tiles.
Dominic slammed his fist against the call button, his gun trained on the smoking corridor behind them.
"Why is he trying to kill you?" Dominic demanded, glancing at Evangeline. "You're his sister."
She let out a bitter, humorless laugh that ended in a painful cough.
"Vincent doesn't have family," she gasped. "He only has assets."
The elevator doors chimed and slid open.
Dominic shoved her inside, Marco right on their heels.
"He found out I was the one leaking his shipment schedules to the feds," she confessed as the doors closed.
Dominic stared at her, the pieces violently clicking into place.
Evangeline Caldwell was the anonymous informant who had been crippling her brother's empire for six months.
She wasn't just a hostage; she was the most valuable intelligence asset in the city.
The elevator lurched downward toward the parking garage.
But instead of reaching the ground floor, the car suddenly slammed to a violent, jarring halt between floors.
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The emergency lights flickered and died, plunging the small box into absolute darkness.
And then, the sound of a heavy blowtorch hissed against the steel roof directly above their heads.
