Chapter 5 - Shadows of the Past
The air in the subterranean catacombs beneath Vance Manor was damp, thick, and heavy with the smell of wet earth and aging oak casks. Torch sconces from decades past hung cold on the stone walls, but I knew every turn of these dark corridors by heart.
I carried Clara on my hip, my right hand holding the pistol, while Bear trotted limping beside us, his ears pinned back, listening to the echoing footsteps above.
The heavy oak door at the top of the cellar stairs slammed open, followed by the heavy thud of tactical boots descending into the darkness.
"Julian!" Gabriel’s voice echoed down the stone corridor, accompanied by the metallic clicks of several weapons being readied. "You're running out of catacombs! There's no exit down here that hasn't been caved in for twenty years!"
He was right about one thing: the main tunnel to the river had collapsed in the storm of '18. But he didn't know about the secondary escape shaft behind the old wine vault.
I set Clara down in a small arched alcove hidden behind three massive oak wine barrels.
"Listen to me, Clara," I whispered, kneeling so I was at eye level with her. "Inside this alcove, there is an iron ladder behind the small wooden grate. You take Bear, you climb up that ladder, and you keep going until you reach the small stone shed in the woods. Do you hear me?"
"No!" Clara whispered back, her small fingers wrapping around my collar. "I'm not leaving you! Daddy left, and he didn't come back! You can't leave too!"
My heart tore in two. Looking into her tear-streaked face, I saw Elena’s eyes looking back at me—the same fieriness, the same refusal to surrender.
"I am not leaving you, Clara," I said, my voice thick with emotion as I took her face in my hands. "I am going to stop the bad men so we can go home. Together. I promise you, on my life, I will come up that ladder right behind you."
She searched my eyes for a long moment, looking for any sign of a lie. Finding none, she swallowed hard and gave a single, firm nod.
"Okay," she whispered. "Promise."
"I promise."
I kissed her forehead, then turned to Bear. I patted the dog’s blood-stained shoulder. "Take care of my girl."
Bear let out a soft huff, nudged my hand with his cold nose, and squeezed himself into the narrow opening behind the wooden grate, guiding Clara up the dark shaft.
Once the grate clicked shut behind them, I blew out a long breath, letting the mask of the ruthless mob boss settle back over my features. The hesitation was gone. The doubt was gone.
I picked up two discarded tactical flashlights from the floor, turned them on, and set them at the end of the long stone corridor, pointing them back toward the cellar stairs to create a blinding glare for anyone coming down.
Then I stepped into the shadows beside the archway, holding my Kimber in my right hand and a heavy iron crowbar I’d pulled from a maintenance rack in my left.
Two mercenaries rounded the corner, blinded by the flashlights' glare.
Before they could adjust their night-vision goggles, I struck. I swung the crowbar into the first man’s knees, sending him crashing to the floor, and disarmed the second with a swift strike to his wrist. A single shot terminated the threat.
The third man stepped into the corridor, raising a short-barreled shotgun. I lunged forward, grabbing the barrel and forcing it upward just as he pulled the trigger. The blast blew a chunk of ancient brick out of the vaulted ceiling. I smashed the crowbar across his helmet, shattering his visor, and dropped him into the mud.
Then came Gabriel.
He walked around the corner slowly, carrying an automatic submachine gun, his charcoal coat splattered with mud and blood. Behind him stood two massive enforcers, their heavy body armor glistening under the dim light.
"Always the monster, aren't you, Julian?" Gabriel mocked, his gun raised. "You fought for this city, you built an empire, and for what? To die in a hole for a bastard child?"
"She isn't a bastard," I said, stepping into the dim light, my eyes fixed on his. "She is a Vance. And you... you are just a scavenger picking through the scraps of better men."
Gabriel’s eyes flared with anger. "Shoot him!"
Before his enforcers could raise their weapons, a sudden, loud explosion rocked the ceiling of the catacombs above us. Dust, mortar, and heavy stone chunks rained down as the foundation of the manor above gave way under the fire damage from the upper floor.
A massive stone beam collapsed directly between me and Gabriel’s enforcers, crushing one of them instantly and cutting off Gabriel’s line of sight.
Through the thick cloud of dust and debris, I leaped over the rubble, crashing into Gabriel.
We slammed into the stone wall of the vault. Gabriel dropped his submachine gun, pulling a long hunting knife from his belt and slashing wildy across my chest. The blade sliced through my shirt, cutting deep across my ribs, but the pain was distant—an annoyance compared to the fire raging in my blood.
I grabbed his wrist, driving my thumb into the pressure point until he dropped the knife. I slammed him against the brick wall, my left hand locked around his throat, lifting him until his boots dangled above the mud.
"Where is my brother?" I hissed through my teeth.
Gabriel gasped for air, his face turning purple, his hands clawing at my tattooed fingers. "He's... he's in... the old church... on... 4th Street..." he choked out. "He... he isn't dead... yet..."
My eyes widened. Marcus was alive.
"Thank you for the ledger, Gabriel," I whispered in his ear. "And thank you for returning my daughter."
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I slammed his head back against the stone wall with full force. Gabriel’s eyes rolled back, his body going limp as he hit the wet floor of the catacombs.
I didn't waste another second. I turned and sprinted toward the escape ladder.
