Chapter 19 - Blood on the Docks
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The firefight was aggressively one-sided. Victor’s men moved with terrifying, coordinated precision, cutting down the Russian mercenaries with overwhelming firepower.
Victor didn't stay behind the cover of the armored vehicles. He moved relentlessly forward, a grim reaper walking through the crossfire, dropping any man who stood between him and the center of the warehouse.
Volkov, realizing his men were being slaughtered, grabbed Lena by the hair, hauling her up from the broken chair. He pressed the barrel of his heavy revolver against her temple, using her as a human shield as he backed toward the rear exit of the pier.
"Hold your fire!" Victor roared, raising his hand.
The deafening gunfire abruptly ceased. The warehouse was suddenly quiet, save for the groans of the dying and the hiss of steam from shattered pipes.
Victor stood thirty feet away, his assault rifle lowered but his eyes locked onto Volkov with a burning, murderous intensity.
"Let her go, Victor," Romano said, his voice dropping into a lethal, vibrating hum. "You are surrounded. Your men are dead. This ends now."
"It ends with her brains on the concrete," Volkov spat, sweating profusely as he backed toward the open loading dock doors leading to the freezing river. "Drop the guns, or she dies!"
Lena looked at Victor. She saw the sheer, unadulterated terror masking his rage—the fear that he was about to watch the woman he loved die.
She remembered the lessons she had learned in the last few months. She wasn't just a maid anymore. She was a survivor. She was his equal.
Lena didn't wait for Victor to negotiate.
She slammed her stiletto heel backward, driving the steel spike directly into Volkov’s knee with all her strength.
Volkov screamed in agony, his leg buckling. The gun wavered away from her head for a fraction of a second.
It was all Victor needed.
Victor raised his pistol with terrifying speed and fired a single, perfect shot.
The bullet struck Volkov squarely between the eyes. The Russian boss collapsed backward, dead before he hit the wet concrete.
Lena stumbled forward, gasping for air.
Victor dropped his weapon and sprinted across the warehouse. He caught her before her knees hit the ground, dragging her fiercely into his arms.
"I've got you," Victor choked out, burying his face in her hair, his massive body trembling violently as the adrenaline finally crashed. "I've got you, Lena. It's over."
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"I knew you would come," she sobbed, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, burying her face in the tactical vest.
"I will always come for you," Victor vowed fiercely, kissing the bruises on her face. "Always."
