Chapter 8
The oppressive silence of the ruined living room was broken only by the sound of Vance’s steady, predatory footsteps crunching over the debris. Everett focused all his senses, tracking the sound, calculating the distance between the heavy oak table and the traitor. Maren squeezed his arm, a silent, desperate communication passing between them in the dark. She understood what he was about to do. She pulled Bennett closer to her chest, shielding the boy’s eyes, pressing herself as flat against the floorboards as physically possible.
"I am losing my patience, Sloane," Vance called out, his voice sharp and devoid of the friendly warmth he had faked for over a decade. "I have six heavily armed men waiting outside. If I give the order, they will burn this beautiful coastal home to the ground with all of you inside. The hard drive. Now."
"It's on the floor, Richard!" Sloane shouted, intentionally throwing her voice to the far left side of the room, near the kitchen threshold. "Just take it and go!"
Vance turned toward the sound, a fatal miscalculation. The moment his heavy boots shifted direction, Everett launched himself over the overturned coffee table. He moved purely on adrenaline, lunging through the impenetrable darkness. He collided violently with Vance's midsection just as a blinding muzzle flash illuminated the room. The gunshot was deafening, a concussive blast that shattered the remaining window panes, but the bullet buried itself harmlessly into the ceiling plaster.
Everett brought the heavy brass paperweight down with absolute, ruthless force, striking Vance across the collarbone. The older man grunted in agony, the handgun slipping from his grip and clattering onto the floorboards. The two men crashed to the ground in a chaotic tangle of limbs and fury. Vance was older, but he was incredibly strong, driven by the desperate need to protect his syndicate's secrets. He threw a vicious elbow that caught Everett in the jaw, sending a spray of blood across the dark room.
May you like
"Sloane! The drive!" Everett roared, wrapping his arms around Vance’s neck, attempting to choke the man out.
Suddenly, a bright, sweeping light cut through the ruined front windows. The mercenaries outside had activated their tactical flashlights, the powerful beams slicing through the lingering dust. The blinding light revealed Sloane, clutching the silver hard drive to her chest, and Maren, pulling Bennett toward the rear hallway. It also illuminated the handgun resting only two feet away from Vance’s outstretched, bleeding fingers.
