Chapter 9 - The Final Stand
"Mama, hold your ears!" I screamed, burying my face in her shoulder as the sound of automatic gunfire rattled the windows of the cottage.
Smoke filled the air, smelling sharply of cordite and burning wood. Through the haze, Alejandro crouched behind the overturned sofa, firing calculated, suppressing shots through the shattered front doorway. He was wounded—a graze across his left shoulder was bleeding darkly through his white shirt—but his focus was absolute, immovable as a mountain.
"Martha, take Emma through the floor hatch!" Alejandro shouted over the deafening roar of gunfire, not taking his eyes off the doorway. "There’s a reinforced panic bunker beneath the kitchen floorboards. Lock it from the inside!"
"I'm not leaving you here!" Mama cried, tears streaming down her face.
"Go!" Alejandro commanded, his voice cracking with fierce, desperate authority. "Protect my daughter! That is an order!"
Before Mama could argue, heavy footsteps slammed against the kitchen floorboards. A third operative in tactical gear rounded the corner, rifle raised directly toward Alejandro’s position.
Instinct took over.
My pink rabbit backpack sat open on the floor beside me. Inside, alongside my emergency EpiPens, sat a heavy brass antique paperweight shaped like a bulldog that Alejandro had given me for my birthday.
Without thinking, I grabbed the heavy brass weight, stood up from behind the sofa, and hurled it with all my five-year-old strength directly at the intruder’s head.
Clang!
The heavy brass struck the gunman squarely across his tactical helmet, throwing off his aim just enough for his rifle to discharge harmlessly into the ceiling.
In that fraction of a second, Alejandro spun around and fired.
The gunman dropped.
Alejandro didn't waste a heartbeat. He lunged across the room, scooping me up in one arm while grabbing Mama’s hand with the other, dragging us toward the kitchen just as a barrage of automatic gunfire tore through the living room walls.
May you like
He threw open the reinforced iron floor hatch, bundled us down into the cool, concrete-lined bunker below, and slammed the heavy steel door shut just as the sound of approaching sirens echoed wailing through the night air.
Dante and the main security detail had arrived.
