Chapter 6 - The Weight of the Dark
The blue glow of the laptop screen died, plunging suite 312 into absolute shadow. Outside in the third-floor corridor, the rhythmic, heavy sound of tactical boots stopped right outside the heavy oak door.
Dante didn't reach for a weapon, because he didn't carry one anymore. He didn't panic, either. The paralysis that had gripped him earlier was gone, burned away by the cold, hard realization of what Elena had done to protect him—and what Viktor was coming to take.
"Get under the consultation table," Dante whispered sharply, his hand finding Elena’s shoulder in the dark and pushing her gently toward the corner.
"Dante, no," Elena hissed, her voice tight with panic. "Viktor has the biometric overrides. The hospital security codes—"
"Are hardwired to the main terminal in the basement, which your legal team cut off at midnight," Dante finished for her, his voice eerily calm. He stepped away from her, his fingers brushing the mahogany surface of the table until they found the heavy silver key and the encrypted satellite phone. "Viktor doesn't want to destroy this room. He wants the offshore keys. Which means he has to open this door manually."
A sharp, metallic scrape echoed from the hallway. A key was sliding into the heavy electronic lock. The green override light flickered amber, then red, as the manual mechanical override took hold.
Dante didn't hesitate. He grabbed the heavy brass floor lamp beside the desk, unscrewed the heavy iron base from the pole in three swift twists, and positioned himself flat against the wall right beside the hinge of the door.
The lock clicked. The heavy oak door swung inward.
A silhouette filled the doorway—broad-shouldered, clad in dark tactical gear, holding a suppressed sidearm low and close to the body. It was Viktor.
"I know you're in here, Moretti," Viktor's voice cut through the dark, smooth and utterly devoid of warmth. "The private jet is grounded. You aren't going to Geneva."
Viktor stepped fully into the room, his tactical light sweeping the empty bed and the dark corners. He didn't look down quickly enough.
Dante swung the iron lamp base with every ounce of frustration, betrayal, and exhaustion he had carried for the last twenty-four hours. It caught Viktor squarely across the shoulder and side of the helmet with a dull, heavy crack. The chief of security staggered sideways, his weapon clattering across the linoleum floor.
Before Viktor could recover his footing, Dante drove his fist straight into the man's chest, slamming him backward against the hallway doorframe.
"You always did lack imagination, Viktor," Dante breathed, his chest heaving as he pinned the larger man by the throat against the wall. "You thought because I lost the spreadsheets, I lost the game."
Viktor coughed, a thin line of blood appearing at the corner of his mouth, but a dark, chilling smile spread across his face. He didn't try to reach for a secondary weapon. Instead, he lifted his chin toward the interior of the hospital suite.
"You think I came here alone to kill you, Dante?" Viktor wheezed, his voice dripping with malice. "Check your encrypted phone. The one your brilliant lawyer left on the table."
Dante’s blood ran cold. He released Viktor’s throat, spun around, and dove back into the dark room.
The satellite phone on the mahogany table was glowing. A single new message was flashing across the encrypted screen—not from Miriam, and not from the pilot in Geneva. It was a live video feed from the private tarmac thirty miles away.
On the small screen, the sleek private jet was engulfed in a silent, blossoming ball of orange fire.
Elena crawled out from under the consultation table, her eyes wide with horror as she stared at the glowing screen in Dante’s hand.
"The jet..." Elena whispered, her voice breaking. "They didn't want you to run, Dante. They wanted you trapped here."
May you like
Viktor stumbled into the doorway behind them, wiping the blood from his lip, his smile widening into something truly triumphant. "There is no Geneva, Moretti. And there is no escape. Arthur Vance is dead, and you and your wife belong to the syndicate now."
---
