Chapter 8 - The Shadow on the Fireescape
Luca’s head snapped toward the window with lethal speed.
"Vincenzo, get down!" Luca shouted into his lapel comms.
Too late.
The glass of the bedroom window didn't shatter—it imploded. A heavy tactical flashbang grenade came spinning through the frame, landing with a clatter on the hardwood floor right beside the foot of the bed.
"Cover your eyes!" Luca lunged forward, scooping the grenade up with reckless disregard for his own safety and hurling it back toward the hallway just as it detonated with a blinding white flash and a concussive boom that rattled the fillings in my teeth.
CRACK-FLASH!
The shockwave knocked me sideways, ringing filling my ears, the air thick with the acrid smell of sulfur and burnt powder.
Before the white spots could clear from my vision, two figures in matte-black tactical gear dropped through the broken window frame, their suppressed carbines raised and sweeping the room.
I threw myself over Maya and Leo, shielding them with my own body, squeezing my eyes shut.
Bang. Bang.
Two clean, muffled shots echoed through the ringing in my ears. The lead tactical operative stiffened mid-stride, his weapon slipping from his gloved hands as he crashed heavily onto the rug. The second operative spun to return fire, but Luca was already there, moving with a fluid, terrifying grace that defied human speed, slamming the butt of his Sig Sauer against the man’s helmet and sending him crashing into the wall.
The room fell dead silent again, save for the ragged breathing of my children and the steady hiss of the rain outside the broken window.
Luca stood over the two unconscious operatives, his chest heaving, blood dripping from a shallow shrapnel cut along his temple. He didn't look like a suburban father or a remorseful lover; he looked like a general standing amidst the ruins of a captured fortress.
"Vivien," Luca said, his voice unnaturally calm as he holstered his weapon and turned toward us. He knelt down beside the bed, his dark eyes searching my face with urgent intensity. "They aren't just sending hit squads anymore. They tracked the burn phones used by my contractors. That means the leak isn't just in my inner circle—it's someone inside the federal task force who gave them our exact coordinates."
I looked up at him, the six years of accumulated fear finally dissolving into a cold, hardened resolve. I had spent six years running from a shadow. I was done hiding.
"Who?" I asked, my voice steady for the first time all night.
May you like
Luca’s expression darkened into a mask of pure granite. "Commander Marcus Vance. The man who has been leading the federal corruption task force in the Pacific Northwest for the last three years. He’s been on Dubois's payroll since day one."
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