Chapter 7 - The Confrontation in Steel
The old Lake Geneva Ironworks sat like a rusted skeleton against the black backdrop of the quarry cliff. Rain poured through broken corrugated steel roofs, dripping onto abandoned machinery and piles of scrap metal.
Inside the central warehouse, halogen floodlights illuminated a dark, oil-stained floor.
Tied to an iron chair in the middle of the room was Claire Vale.
She was terribly thin, dressed in a faded flannel shirt and dark jeans. Her dark hair was tangled, and blood trickled from a cut above her left eyebrow. Yet despite two years of living in hiding and the physical toll of her captivity, her eyes remained sharp, defiant, and fierce.
Standing in front of her was Viktor Rostov—a towering, scarred mercenary who had served as Margaret Vale’s head of security for a decade.
"You should have stayed in the river two years ago, Claire," Rostov sneered, tossing a heavy brass key up and down in his hand. "Would have saved us both a lot of trouble."
Claire looked up at him, wiping blood from her lip with her shoulder. "Where are the girls, Viktor? If you touched my daughters, I swear to God—"
"The kids got away with that traitorous nurse," Rostov grunted, pulling a cigar from his pocket and lighting it. "Doesn't matter. They’re probably freezing in a ditch somewhere. Right now, you’re my ticket out of New York. The Moretti family is paying five million for Adrian Vale’s wife. They want to use you to break him."
Claire let out a cold, breathless laugh. "You don't know Adrian very well, do you?"
Rostov stopped mid-puff. "What’s that supposed to mean?"
"If you had killed me, he would have hunted you down eventually," Claire whispered, her hazel eyes burning with dangerous intensity. "But because you took me... because you threatened our children... he isn't going to hunt you, Viktor. He’s already here."
BOOM!
A massive explosion blew the reinforced steel side doors off their hinges!
Shattered metal and concrete hurled through the air as bright flashbangs detonated across the warehouse floor, blinding Rostov’s six armed mercenaries!
BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!
Suppressed automatic gunfire cut through the smoky darkness with terrifying precision. Four of Rostov’s men dropped to the concrete floor before they could even raise their weapons.
Rostov panicked, pulling his sidearm and grabbing Claire by her collar, hauling her up as a human shield. "Move and I blow her head off!" he screamed into the smoke.
Out of the blackness stepped Adrian Vale.
He walked through the haze of smoke and sparks like a dark god of vengeance. His eyes were fixed entirely on Claire.
"Adrian..." Claire choked out, tears spilling over her bruised cheeks as she saw her husband standing alive before her.
"I’ve got you, love," Adrian said softly.
Then, in a fraction of a second, Adrian raised his custom pistol, aimed three inches above Claire’s left shoulder, and pulled the trigger.
BANG!
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The heavy bullet struck Rostov directly through his eye socket. The mercenary’s eyes rolled back, and his grip slackened as he collapsed backward onto the cold steel floor.
Adrian sprinted forward, catching Claire before she could hit the ground.
