Chapter 6 - The Underboss
A sharp, metallic burst of static echoed through the warehouse as the television’s audio feed forcefully engaged.
A tall man wearing a perfectly tailored silver suit slowly stepped into the frame, standing directly behind my terrified brother.
Owen immediately pushed himself off the leather sofa, his dark eyes locking onto the man on the screen with pure, unadulterated rage.
"Vance," Owen growled, speaking the name of his treacherous underboss like it was a deadly curse.
Vance offered a sickeningly polite smile to the camera, gently resting his expensive hands on Leo’s trembling shoulders.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, boss."
The underboss spoke with a calm, mocking tone that sent a terrifying shiver cascading violently down my spine.
"I honestly have to commend the little maid for pulling off a miracle, but this annoying interference ends tonight."
Vance tapped the digital timer attached to my brother's chest, causing the bright red numbers to begin aggressively counting down from sixty minutes.
"You have exactly one hour to surrender yourself at the old Navy shipyard in Brooklyn, Owen."
Vance leaned directly into the camera lens, his eyes completely devoid of any human empathy.
"If you involve the police, or if you are even one minute late, the boy instantly turns into a red mist."
The live feed abruptly cut to static, plunging the massive warehouse back into a heavy, suffocating silence.
I fell to my knees on the cold concrete floor, letting out a shattered, agonizing sob that tore violently from my throat.
Owen walked over and knelt beside me, his large, rough hands gently gripping my shaking shoulders.
"Take the keys to the SUV, drive far away from the city, and never look back."
He was officially giving me a free pass to run away from this incredibly violent nightmare.
I aggressively wiped the hot tears from my face and stood up, meeting his intense gaze with fierce determination.
"He is my only family, Owen, and I am absolutely not leaving him to die alone."
Owen stared at me for a long moment, a profound sense of newfound respect slowly replacing the hardened anger in his eyes.
He walked over to a heavy mahogany bookshelf and pulled a specific, hidden lever concealed behind a thick encyclopedia.
The entire bookcase smoothly slid open, revealing a massive, heavily stocked armory filled with military-grade tactical weapons and bulletproof vests.
Owen began loading magazines with mechanical precision, tossing me a lightweight Kevlar vest tailored for mobility.
"If we are going into a warzone, you follow my exact orders without a single moment of hesitation."
I strapped the heavy vest tightly over my blue scrubs, fully accepting the deadly reality of what we were about to do.
Just as Owen handed me a compact handgun, a deafening explosion violently shattered the massive skylights directly above our heads.
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Dozens of silver tear gas canisters rained down onto the concrete floor, rapidly filling the room with blinding, suffocating white smoke.
The safe house had been completely compromised, and a heavily armed assault team was currently breaching the front doors.
