Chapter 8 - Trial by Fire
The voice echoing from the megaphone commanded absolute authority.
The Queen ordered Richard to send her daughter out, promising him a quick death if he complied.
Richard looked at Claire, his eyes filled with a desperate, protective fury.
He promised her that he would never let that monster touch her.
He pulled two smoke grenades from his tactical vest and pulled the pins.
He tossed them through the shattered windows into the parking lot.
Thick white smoke instantly billowed across the asphalt, obscuring the tactical spotlights.
Richard kicked the back door open and dragged Claire into the freezing night air.
Gunfire immediately erupted from the perimeter, blindly tearing through the smoke.
Bullets ripped into the wooden walls of the diner, turning the building into splinters.
Richard returned fire, his shots precise and deadly despite the lack of visibility.
He dropped two approaching soldiers, clearing a narrow path toward the rear alley.
Claire stayed low, her heart pounding against her ribs like a hammer.
They scrambled behind a row of industrial dumpsters just as the diner exploded.
The shockwave threw them to the ground, showering them in debris and sparks.
The Queen's soldiers had fired a rocket directly into the kitchen.
Richard groaned, struggling to push a heavy piece of metal off his leg.
Claire grabbed his arm, pulling him up with an adrenaline-fueled strength.
She told him they needed to reach Marcus's armored truck parked behind the gas pumps.
They sprinted across the open ground, bullets zipping past their heads like angry hornets.
Richard provided cover fire while Claire yanked the heavy driver's side door open.
She climbed into the driver's seat and frantically searched for the keys.
There were no keys, only a biometric thumb scanner on the dashboard.
She slammed her hand against the steering wheel in total frustration.
Richard climbed into the passenger seat, bleeding heavily from a new wound on his side.
He told Claire to place her thumb on the scanner.
She argued that it was Marcus's truck, so it wouldn't work for her.
Richard yelled that the truck was built by the royal armory.
He said it was programmed to recognize royal DNA.
Claire pressed her trembling thumb against the glowing green glass.
The scanner beeped, and the massive engine roared to life instantly.
But before she could shift into gear, a man stepped out of the smoke directly in front of the truck.
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He held a massive anti-armor weapon aimed right at the windshield.
It was Daniel Prescott, smiling beneath the glowing neon lights.
