Chapter 6 - The Steel Blade
The red laser dots danced lightly across Nora’s stained waitress uniform.
The construction site was eerily silent, save for the distant wail of police sirens.
Five men stepped out from behind the concrete pillars.
They were dressed entirely in black tactical gear, carrying suppressed rifles.
They were not police.
"Drop the weapon, Tommy," the lead man commanded in a thick Russian accent.
Tommy slowly lowered his hand cannon to the dirt.
Roman leaned heavily against a stack of cinder blocks, his breathing shallow and ragged.
"Victor," Roman sneered, recognizing the leader.
"I did not realize the Chicago boys were outsourcing to the Bratva."
Victor chuckled, stepping closer.
"Your brother-in-law pays exceptionally well, Roman."
"He specifically requested we bring the girl back breathing."
"You, however, are severely past your expiration date."
Victor raised his pistol, aiming it squarely at Roman’s head.
Nora did not think.
She reacted entirely on the survival instincts she had honed over three terrifying years.
She reached down to the tray she had instinctively kept tucked under her arm during the crash.
She grabbed the broken neck of the reserve Cabernet bottle she had picked up at the restaurant.
She lunged forward with explosive speed.
She drove the jagged glass edge directly into Victor’s neck, severing his artery.
Victor’s eyes widened in absolute shock.
He dropped his gun, clutching his throat as a fountain of dark blood erupted between his fingers.
He collapsed to his knees, gurgling violently.
The four remaining mercenaries froze for a fraction of a second in pure disbelief.
That fraction of a second was all Tommy needed.
He scooped his hand cannon from the dirt and fired three deafening shots.
Three mercenaries dropped dead before they could even pull their triggers.
The final mercenary panicked and fired wildly into the dark.
A bullet grazed Tommy’s shoulder, spinning the massive enforcer around.
Roman pushed off the cinder blocks.
He tackled the last shooter to the ground, driving his own combat knife deep into the man’s chest.
Silence slammed violently back into the construction site.
Nora stood trembling violently, staring at her blood-soaked hands.
She had just killed a man.
Roman slowly stood up, wiping his knife on the dead man’s jacket.
He walked over to Nora.
He gently pried the bloody glass bottle from her rigid fingers.
"Look at me," Roman commanded softly.
She could not tear her eyes away from Victor’s lifeless body on the dirt.
Roman grabbed her chin and forced her to meet his intense gaze.
"You survived," he told her fiercely.
"Never apologize for surviving."
Tommy groaned, clutching his bleeding shoulder.
"Boss, we cannot stay here."
"The cops are going to swarm this block in two minutes."
"The subway," Roman ordered.
"There is an old maintenance hatch two streets down."
They left the bodies in the dirt and limped rapidly through the shadows.
Nora felt entirely detached from her own body.
She was moving on pure adrenaline.
They reached a rusted iron grate hidden behind a dumpster in a narrow alley.
Tommy hauled the heavy grate open with his good arm.
They climbed down into the pitch-black darkness of the abandoned subway tunnels.
As Roman pulled the grate shut above them, Nora’s burner phone suddenly buzzed in her pocket.
She pulled it out and looked at the glowing screen.
May you like
The text message was from her brother Leo.
It read: "You should have let them take him. Now I have to kill you both."
