Chapter 7 - Ash and Iron
Volkov sneered, his eyes filled with madness. "Kill them all! Blow the charges!" he screamed into his radio.
The sub pen erupted into violence.
Holden opened fire from the high catwalk, taking out three riflemen before dropping down fifteen feet onto the concrete floor. Marcus and the strike team poured through the upper ventilation shafts, raining high-caliber fire down onto the Volkov guards.
"Phantom! Seek!" Holden roared.
The massive black hound leapt off the platform, a flurry of muscle and teeth, tearing through two mercenaries who tried to rush Holden’s position.
Chaos gripped the bunker. Muzzle flashes lit up the dark water like strobe lights. Bullets ricocheted off steel hull plates and stone walls. Volkov grabbed Mara, pulling her up as a human shield while backing toward the boat's ramp.
"Stay back, Cross!" Volkov yelled, holding a knife to Mara’s throat as his remaining guards were systematically cut down by Holden’s men. "You take one step closer and I slice her throat!"
Holden stopped ten paces away. His rifle was empty, his sidearm holstered. Rain and sea spray dripped off his tactical armor.
"Look around you, Dimitri," Holden said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "Your men are dead. Your empire is burned. You have nowhere left to run."
"I have her!" Volkov screamed. "I took eight years of your life! I broke your family!"
"You didn't break anything," a raspy voice spoke.
It was Mara.
With a sudden, violent surge of hidden strength, Mara drove her elbow backward into Volkov’s broken ribs. Volkov gasped in pain, his grip loosening for a fraction of a second.
It was all Holden needed.
Holden closed the distance instantly. His massive hand locked around Volkov’s wrist, snapping the bone with an audible crack that made the warlord scream. The knife clattered to the steel floor. Holden grabbed Volkov by the throat, lifting the 200-pound man off his feet and slamming him brutally onto the edge of the iron railing.
Volkov choked, blood spilling from his lips as he looked into Holden’s pitch-black, lifeless eyes.
"This is for my sister," Holden growled.
He drove a bone-shattering blow into Volkov’s chest.
"This is for her daughter."
Another strike shattered Volkov’s jaw.
Holden dragged the dying warlord to the edge of the catwalk overlooking the dark, churning ocean water beneath the submarine bay. He pulled Chloe’s silver raven pendant from his pocket, holding it in front of Volkov’s swollen eyes.
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"The Cross family doesn't forget," Holden whispered into his ear. "And we never forgive."
With a brutal shove, Holden pitched Dimitri Volkov over the edge. The body fell fifty feet into the dark, churning water below, disappearing instantly into the cold depths.
