Chapter 10 - Blood on the Brick
|
Before Damian could answer, three red laser sights swept across the brick archway twenty yards ahead.
"Contact!" a voice shouted in Italian.
A barrage of suppressed submachine gun fire chewed into the brick wall near their heads, sending shower of dust and stone shards flying through the narrow tunnel.
Damian pushed Wren behind a heavy oak wine barrel, returning fire with three rapid shots that drove the attackers back into the shadows.
"How many?" Damian barked over the deafening echoes.
"Four in front, two behind!" Wren yelled, her tactical mind working at light speed. "We're boxed in!"
She didn't panic. She dropped her empty pistol, reached down into her boot, and pulled out a long, narrow ceramic blade she had kept hidden against her ankle for two years—a non-metallic knife that couldn't be detected by security wands.
"Cover me for three seconds," Wren said, looking into Damian's eyes.
"Wren, no—"
"Do it!" she commanded with absolute authority.
Damian leaned out from behind the barrel, emptying his high-caliber magazine into the dark corridor, forcing the incoming hitmen to duck for cover.
In those three seconds, Wren vanished into the darkness.
She didn't run down the center of the tunnel. She mounted the damp brick wall, using the protruding stone ledges to scale five feet off the ground, moving silently along the ceiling arch like a ghost.
The lead Sicilian hitman moved cautiously past the wine barrel, raising his rifle to check the shadow.
Wren dropped from the ceiling directly onto his shoulders.
May you like
Her ceramic blade drove cleanly through the seam of his tactical helmet, severing his spinal cord instantly. Before his body hit the floor, she snatched his submachine gun from his hands, rolled across the wet floorboards, and opened fire on the remaining three attackers.
TAK-TAK-TAK-TAK!
