Chapter 4 - The Hunted
The blinking red light of the tracker cast an eerie glow inside the dark cabin of the SUV.
Dominic stared at it in the rearview mirror, his jaw clenching so tight his teeth ground together.
Caldwell hadn’t just lost his sister; he had deliberately let Dominic take her.
It was a Trojan horse strategy designed to lead Caldwell's hit squads directly to the heart of the Ashford syndicate.
"Throw it out the window," Marco growled, rolling down his window to let the freezing rain whip inside.
"No," Dominic said sharply.
He snatched the small device from Evangeline's trembling hand.
"If we toss it, they'll know we found it. They'll just track her phone or the car."
"I don't have a phone," Evangeline said quietly. "Vincent took everything."
Dominic turned the steering wheel sharply, pulling the heavy SUV off the main highway and onto a deserted, unlit back road.
He tossed the tracker into the cup holder, his mind rapidly constructing a new plan.
"We use it," Dominic stated, accelerating down the wet asphalt.
"We lead them exactly where we want them."
He drove for another thirty minutes in absolute silence, the tension in the car thick enough to choke on.
They arrived at an abandoned, rusting steel mill on the edge of the city limits.
It was a property Dominic had acquired years ago, specifically designed to be a heavily fortified kill box.
"We make our stand here," Dominic ordered, pulling the SUV deep into the cavernous, empty warehouse.
He left the tracker blinking brightly on the dashboard of the vehicle.
He grabbed a heavy tactical bag from the trunk, tossing a loaded pistol directly to Evangeline.
She caught it clumsily, staring at the cold metal as if it were a venomous snake.
"I can't shoot," she admitted, her voice hollow.
"Then hide," Dominic commanded, pointing toward a reinforced concrete office suspended above the factory floor.
He and Marco quickly moved through the dark building, setting explosive charges at every primary entrance.
They took up elevated sniper positions on the rusted catwalks, plunging the warehouse into total darkness.
Ten minutes later, the screech of tires echoed from the muddy yard outside.
Headlights pierced the gloom as three heavily armored trucks smashed through the chain-link gates.
Over twenty men poured out, armed with assault rifles and tactical gear.
Vincent Caldwell stepped out of the lead vehicle, wearing a tailored suit and holding a silver cane.
"Dominic Ashford!" Caldwell shouted, his voice echoing off the corrugated metal walls.
"Send my sister out, and I promise to make your death quick."
Dominic remained completely silent, resting the crosshairs of his rifle directly on Caldwell's chest.
He slowly exhaled, his finger tightening perfectly on the trigger.
But before he could fire the shot that would end the war, his phone buzzed.
May you like
He glanced at the screen, freezing instantly.
It was a live video feed showing Marco's wife and two young children, tied to chairs in their own living room, with guns pointed at their heads.
