Chapter 6 - The Laser’s Edge
The crimson dot danced across Olivia Harrington’s forehead like a drop of fresh blood, stark and absolute against the dim industrial lighting of the warehouse.
Olivia’s finger remained locked on the trigger of her submachine gun, her breath hitching as she noticed the sudden shift in Vincent Castellano’s eyes. The frantic panic that had threatened to break his composure a second prior vanished, replaced by an abyssal, predatory calm.
“You miscalculated, Olivia,” Vincent said, his voice dropping into a register that made the mercenaries behind her shift uneasily. “You assumed my garrison was the only thing standing between you and the hospital.”
Olivia’s eyes darted upward toward the shadowy scaffolding near the vaulted rafters. “What—?”
Before she could finish the syllable, a sharp, metallic crack split the air.
Clang.
The submachine gun was violently jarred from Olivia’s grip, a high-caliber sniper round piercing the receiver and shattering the weapon into a shower of twisted metal and plastic fragments. The force of the impact knocked Olivia backward, her heels tangling in her expensive trench coat as she slammed hard against the concrete floor.
“Sniper! Upper rafters! Cover!” one of the tactical mercenaries roared, diving for cover behind a concrete pillar while raising his assault rifle.
He never got the barrel up.
From the shadows behind the crates, Luca and four of Vincent’s elite enforcers opened fire with suppressed automatic weapons, a coordinated crossfire that tore through the mercenaries' flank before they could react. Within three seconds, the warehouse floor was clear of active combatants, the remaining Harrington guards dropping their weapons and hitting the dirt with their hands raised.
Vincent didn't look at the fallen guards. He strode past the wreckage, his boots clicking rhythmically against the floor, until he stood over Olivia. She was clutching her bruised hand, her designer clothes stained with grease, staring up at him with unadulterated terror.
“Call off the strike team at St. Jude’s,” Vincent commanded, leaning down until his face was inches from hers. His voice was a lethal whisper. “Give me the secure frequency, or I will let Luca handle the interrogation—and trust me, his methods are far less patient than mine.”
Olivia’s chest heaved, her face twisted in defiance and shock. She let out a manic, breathless laugh. “You think... you think stopping me changes anything, Vincent? The hospital is already surrounded. My father’s men didn't wait for my signal. They moved the moment we left the estate.”
Vincent’s blood ran cold. He straightened up instantly, grabbing his burner phone from his pocket with blinding speed and slamming the speed dial for the hospital’s secure security room.
“Luca! Secure her!” Vincent barked, pressing the phone to his ear as he sprinted toward the exit.
May you like
The line clicked. There was no ringing tone—only a deafening burst of static, followed by the faint, agonizing sound of distant gunfire over the receiver.
---
