Chapter 7 - The Lion in Winter
Time seemed to slow to an agonizing crawl inside the ruined bedroom.
Lila dropped her cloth rabbit, her hands flying to her ears as the shockwave overwhelmed her hearing aid with high-pitched feedback.
The lead mercenary stepped forward, his finger tightening on the trigger of his submachine gun.
Before the muzzle could flash, Damian surged from behind the stone pillar with terrifying ferocity.
He didn't fire his weapon; he closed the distance with a brutal combat strike, driving the barrel of his rifle under the mercenary’s chin.
The sickening crunch of bone echoed through the smoke.
The second gunman swung his rifle around, but Damian grabbed the falling mercenary’s body, using it as a human shield.
A spray of bullets tore through the dead guard’s tactical vest.
Damian fired three clean rounds through the corpse's shoulder, dropping the second attacker instantly with shots to the chest.
Damian collapsed against the wall, clutching his chest as a violent spasm wracked his poisoned body.
Blood bubbled at the corner of his mouth, staining his white collar deep crimson.
"Mr. Volkov!" Mara screamed, rushing forward to support his heavy frame.
"Get into the tunnel," Damian wheezed, his vision swimming with dark spots.
"My heart... it's giving out."
Lila broke away from her mother’s grip and ran toward him.
She didn't look at the dead men on the floor or the pools of blood soaking into the ruined hardwood.
She dropped to her knees beside Damian, grabbed his trembling, blood-soaked hand, and pressed it directly against his chest.
Then, she laid her own ear against the fabric of his shirt.
She began to hum.
It was a strange, rhythmic, low-frequency hum, vibrating from the depths of her small throat.
She tapped her little fist against his sternum in a steady, deliberate cadence.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
It was the steady rhythm of a mother's lullaby, perfectly mimicking a healthy, resting heartbeat.
Damian gasped, his lungs expanding as if an invisible vice had suddenly released its grip on his arteries.
The chaotic arrhythmia fluttering in his chest slowly synchronized with the little girl's steady tapping.
His eyes snapped wide open, blazing with renewed, terrifying life.
He looked at Lila, whose small face was damp with sweat and tears, her brave eyes staring right through his soul.
"Good girl," Damian whispered, his voice gaining strength with every beat.
Suddenly, a heavy steel door slammed shut inside the walk-in wardrobe.
The hydraulic locks of the secret escape tunnel engaged with a resounding, metallic thud.
From the hallway behind them, slow, mocking applause echoed through the smoke.
Viktor Vance stepped into the doorway, holding a high-caliber revolver and a heavy iron crowbar.
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"Touching family portrait," Viktor sneered, pointing the barrel directly at Lila’s forehead.
"Too bad the exit is sealed from the outside."
