Chapter 5 - The Siege
The concussive blast threw me backward over the wooden table.
Smoke and drywall dust instantly filled the small apartment, blinding my vision.
Emma screamed as chunks of plaster rained down from the ceiling.
I scrambled to my feet, grabbing my sidearm from the go-bag on the floor.
Three men dressed in tactical gear stepped through the smoking doorway, aiming assault rifles with laser sights.
"Get down!" I yelled at Emma, tackling her behind the heavy steel kitchen island.
Gunfire erupted, shredding the cabinets above our heads and sending ceramic plates shattering into dust.
"Who are they?" Emma shrieked, covering her ears.
"Cartel cleanup crew," I grunted, checking my magazine.
"They aren't here to collect a debt anymore."
"They're here to erase the loose ends."
I popped up from cover and fired two precise shots.
The first hit the lead gunman in the shoulder, spinning him around.
The second struck the hall light fixture, plunging the entryway into total darkness.
The men cursed and activated the flashlights on their rifles.
"Stay exactly where you are," I whispered to Emma.
I crawled along the floorboards, flanking the gunmen as they moved slowly into the living room.
Using the shadows to my advantage, I lunged from behind a sofa and swept the legs out from under the second man.
As he fell, I snatched his rifle and slammed the stock into his jaw, knocking him out cold.
The third man turned toward the noise and fired blindly.
A bullet grazed my upper arm, burning like a hot poker.
I ignored the pain and fired my stolen rifle, hitting him squarely in his tactical vest.
He gasped for air and collapsed against the wall, incapacitated.
The apartment fell dead silent, save for the ringing in my ears.
I flicked on the kitchen light and checked my bleeding arm.
Emma crawled out from behind the counter, staring at the unconscious men on the floor.
"How do you know how to do that?" she asked, her eyes wide with shock.
"You sell real estate."
"I sell real estate now," I corrected her, tearing a piece of cloth to bandage my arm.
"Before you were born, I did things that required a very different skill set."
I walked over to the man I had shot in the vest and pulled him up by his collar.
He groaned in pain as I pressed the barrel of my pistol to his forehead.
"Who sent you?" I demanded.
"Go to hell," the mercenary spat.
I cocked the hammer.
"Talk, or you won't leave this room," I threatened.
The man swallowed hard.
"Vale," he choked out.
"Richard Vale?" I asked.
"No," the man wheezed, coughing violently.
"Blake Vale."
"He told us to kill the girl and make it look like a cartel hit."
I dropped the man and turned to my daughter.
"Why would Blake want me dead?" Emma whispered, trembling again.
I reached into the mercenary's pocket and pulled out a folded document.
I tossed it onto the kitchen counter.
May you like
"Because he didn't just give you his debt," I said grimly.
"He took out a twenty-million-dollar life insurance policy on you yesterday."
