Chapter 6 - The Trap SpringingThe interior of the silo was a massive, cavernous industrial tomb. Rusting conveyor belts hung from the ceiling like giant ribs, and the air smelled heavily of old grain dust and gun oil.
In the center of the main staging floor, directly beneath a gaping hole in the roof where rain poured down in sheets, sat a solitary wooden chair.
Tied securely to that chair was a woman.
Her head was slumped forward, dark hair matted with sweat and rain, her breathing shallow and ragged. Clara O'Shea.
Standing a few feet away, holding a black leather briefcase, was Julian Vance. He wasn't alone. Six heavily armed mercenaries formed a semi-circle around him, their assault rifles raised, scanning the dark catwalks above.
"I knew you'd come, Dante!" Julian’s voice echoed off the towering concrete silos, carrying a rich, theatrical arrogance. He didn't bother turning around; he knew I was there. "You always were a sentimental fool. A stray dog howling for a bone."
I stepped out from behind a massive concrete pillar, my Sig Sauer held level and steady in both hands.
"Let her go, Julian," I said, my voice cutting through the hollow acoustics of the warehouse. "This is between you and me. The woman has nothing to do with our past."
Julian slowly turned around. A cruel, triumphant grin split his scarred face. He held up the black leather briefcase—my master ledger.
"Oh, she has everything to do with it, brother," Julian sneered. "She discovered that our new chemical compound alters human neurology permanently. But more importantly... she’s your leverage's mother. And leverage is everything in our world."
Julian snapped his fingers. One of the mercenaries stepped forward, pressing the cold barrel of a pistol directly against Clara's temple.
Clara groaned softly, lifting her head. Her eyes fluttered open, filled with sheer, unadulterated terror. "Elena... where is my... my baby?"
"She's safe," I said firmly, keeping my eyes locked on Julian. "She's with people who protect her."
"Touching. Truly touching," Julian mocked, taking a slow step backward. "Now, drop your weapon, Dante. Slide the second drive across the concrete, and get on your knees. Let's see if the great king of the North District is willing to bow down to save a stranger."
May you like
The mercenaries grinned, tightening their grips on their triggers. Every barrel in the room shifted to point directly at my chest.
This was the moment of truth. The trap had sprung.
