Chapter 2 - The Ambush
The cold night air hit my face as Viktor dragged me into the dark alley behind Sterling House.
A massive, armored black SUV was idling near the dumpsters.
A heavily scarred man in a trench coat opened the rear door for us.
"Get in," Viktor ordered, shoving me into the leather backseat.
He climbed in right behind me and slammed the heavy door shut.
"Drive to the federal customs warehouse," Viktor barked at the driver in Hungarian.
"And call Anton to prepare the cleanup crew."
The driver nodded and hit the gas, sending the massive vehicle tearing through the narrow alley.
I pressed my back against the door, trying to put as much distance between Viktor and myself as possible.
"Why do you need me?" I asked, my voice trembling.
"You are my insurance policy," Viktor replied without looking at me.
"The man on the phone who betrayed me was Anton, my chief of security."
My breath caught in my throat.
"You just told the driver to call the man who betrayed you?"
Viktor finally turned to look at me, a cruel smirk playing on his lips.
"I need to know how deep the rot goes."
He pulled a sleek tablet from the seat pocket and opened a map of the city's ports.
"The document they intercepted is a transfer of power signed by my dying father," Viktor explained.
"Without it, Pierce takes control of the entire eastern seaboard in thirty-two minutes."
"I am just a waitress," I pleaded.
"I don't know anything about cartels or documents."
"You know Hungarian," Viktor countered smoothly.
"And the men guarding that customs warehouse only speak Hungarian."
I realized with a sinking dread that he was going to use me as a translator for an interrogation.
Suddenly, the driver slammed on the brakes with bone-crushing force.
I was thrown forward, my shoulder smashing into the leather partition.
Tires screeched loudly as a heavy garbage truck blocked the intersection ahead of us.
"Ambush!" the driver screamed in English, reaching for his weapon.
Before he could draw it, a hail of high-caliber bullets shattered the reinforced windshield.
The driver’s head jerked back, and a spray of crimson coated the dashboard.
Viktor grabbed the back of my neck and shoved me down onto the floorboards.
"Stay down!" he roared over the deafening sound of gunfire.
The heavy SUV rocked violently as bullets tore through the armored plating.
"They brought armor-piercing rounds," Viktor cursed, pulling a military-grade rifle from beneath the seat.
He kicked the rear door open and fired blindly into the night.
"Mara, we have to move now!" he yelled.
I crawled over the shattered glass toward the open door.
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Just as my hands touched the cold pavement, a man in a black mask stepped out of the shadows.
He aimed a shotgun directly at my face and racked the slide.
