Chapter 8 - The Decoy
The bright red numbers on the massive explosive device strapped to the steel pillar aggressively ticked down to exactly thirty seconds.
I stood completely paralyzed by the sheer terror of the brilliant, incredibly deadly trap we had just walked into.
Owen leaped gracefully off the lower catwalk, his heavy boots slamming loudly onto the concrete as he sprinted desperately toward me.
He did not waste a single second trying to defuse the highly complex, military-grade bomb.
He wrapped his massive arms securely around my waist and violently tackled me toward the massive, floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the freezing harbor.
"Take a deep breath and hold it!"
He roared the terrifying command just a split second before we violently shattered the thick, industrial glass.
We plummeted through the freezing night air just as the massive bomb detonated with a deafening, apocalyptic roar.
The explosive shockwave violently pushed us further out over the water, showering the dark harbor with thousands of flaming metal fragments.
We crashed brutally into the freezing, churning black water, the icy temperature instantly shocking the remaining breath from my lungs.
I kicked violently toward the surface, desperately gasping for sweet oxygen as the burning remnants of the warehouse collapsed into the sea behind us.
Owen pulled me securely onto a floating wooden dock, our bodies shaking uncontrollably from the extreme adrenaline and freezing water.
Before I could even process the fact that we had somehow survived, blinding tactical floodlights suddenly illuminated the small dock.
Dozens of heavily armed mercenaries stepped out from behind stacks of shipping containers, their laser sights painting our soaking wet chests completely red.
The crowd of killers slowly parted, allowing Vance to step confidently forward onto the wooden planks.
The treacherous underboss was holding my real brother securely by the collar, pressing a heavy silver revolver directly against Leo's temple.
Leo was sobbing uncontrollably, his small hands bound tightly with thick plastic zip-ties.
"You always were incredibly hard to kill, Owen, but this time, the game is officially over."
Vance sneered triumphantly, forcefully kicking the back of Owen’s knees to drop the powerful crime boss down to the wet wood.
Owen stared defiantly up at his traitorous second-in-command, entirely refusing to show even a single ounce of fear.
"If you let the girl and the boy walk away, I will sign over every offshore account completely to you."
Vance laughed wickedly, cocking the heavy hammer of the silver revolver with a loud, terrifying click.
"I am going to take your accounts anyway, right after I blow your brains out."
Vance confidently aimed the heavy weapon directly at the center of Owen's forehead, his finger tightening slowly on the trigger.
Suddenly, the distinct, highly terrifying crack of a high-powered sniper rifle echoed loudly across the dark harbor.
Vance's right-hand mercenary violently collapsed backward onto the dock, a massive hole completely shattering his tactical helmet.
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A tall, elegant woman wearing a sleek black trench coat stepped slowly out of the deep shadows, holding a smoking sniper rifle in her hands.
It was Owen’s sister, Elena, who had supposedly perished in a tragic yachting accident nearly five years ago.
