Chapter 5 - The Line of Fire
The Ashland warehouse was an abandoned freight depot on the industrial edge of the Chicago River, smelling of diesel, damp concrete, and rusted iron.
Inside the cavernous, dimly lit space, a single overhead halogen lamp cast a harsh circle of light over a metal chair where Brian Cooper—my former cleaning supervisor—sat bound tightly with heavy plastic zip-ties, shivering in his undershirt. His face was pale, his eyes wide with a frantic, desperate terror as two of Vincent’s armed enforcers stood silently in the shadows behind him.
When Vincent and I stepped out of the shadows of the loading bay, Brian let out a ragged, whimpering sob.
"Mr. Hayes! Please! I swear to God I didn't know!" Brian screamed, thrashing against the chair. "Luke told me to switch her schedule! He said it was a corporate audit! He said nobody would get hurt!"
Vincent didn't raise his voice. He walked slowly toward Brian, his hands shoved casually into the pockets of his charcoal overcoat. I stayed a few paces back, my boots clicking softly against the concrete floor.
"Luke is dead, Brian," Vincent said smoothly, stopping two feet away from the trembling man. "He tried to drop an elevator on my head. And you were his accomplice."
"I was paid!" Brian blubbered, tears streaming down his face. "Marcus Vance gave me fifty thousand dollars in cash! He said if I didn't cooperate, my debts would be called in by the syndicate! I had no choice, Mr. Hayes, I swear on my mother's grave!"
Vincent exhaled slowly, a dangerous, cold smile touching the corners of his mouth. "Marcus. Always efficient. Always hiding behind someone else's hands."
"He's planning to liquidate the entire logistics wing tomorrow morning!" Brian shrieked, desperate to buy his life with information. "He's got the board votes lined up! Once you're out of the picture, the whole syndicate goes to him and the buyers from Singapore!"
I stepped forward into the circle of light, my hands balled into tight fists at my sides. "And what about me, Brian?" I asked, my voice cutting through his panic. "What about my life? You put me in that elevator. You knew it was sabotaged."
Brian blinked rapidly, squinting against the glare of the halogen lamp to look at me. Recognition flickered in his panicked eyes. "Claire... look, I'm sorry. I didn't know they were going to drop it while you were inside. Luke said the brakes would lock halfway down, that it would just look like a mechanical malfunction to scare you off the floor!"
Before Vincent could speak, a sharp, piercing sound shattered the stillness of the warehouse.
Thwip.
A suppressed round punched clean through Brian’s forehead, spraying dark mist and blood against the metal back of the chair. Brian slumped forward instantly, lifeless before his body even finished tilting.
"Ambush!" one of the guards roared, drawing his weapon and firing blindly toward the high catwalks above.
"Get down!" Vincent yelled, his reflexes instantaneous.
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Before I could even process the gunshot, Vincent lunged forward, tackling me hard to the concrete floor just as a second bullet sparked off the steel beam inches above our heads. His heavy body shielded mine completely, his arms wrapping around my head as the chaotic sound of automatic gunfire echoed off the tin roof of the warehouse.
Through the deafening roar, I gripped the lapel of Vincent's coat, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his chest as the shadows above us erupted into a full-scale firefight.
