Chapter 7 - The Siege of Queens
I drove like a madman through the heavy Manhattan traffic, weaving through yellow cabs and blowing through red lights, the engine of my sedan screaming in protest.
I picked up my burner phone and dialed the secure line to the Queens warehouse.
Silence.
I dialed again. Ring... ring... ring.
Finally, a faint, trembling voice picked up.
“Vincent?” Margaret whispered, terror dripping from every syllable.
“Margaret! Are you alright? Where is Lily?”
“We’re in the safe room,” she whimpered, the sound of muffled gunfire echoing in the background. “Men in black suits broke through the front gate five minutes ago! They’re trying to burn down the warehouse!”
“Listen to me!” I shouted over the roar of my engine as I crossed the Queensboro Bridge. “The safe room door is reinforced steel. It can withstand explosives. Lock the inner bolts! Do not open that door for anyone except me!”
“They have torches, Vincent! They’re cutting through the frame!”
“I’m two minutes away! Stay down!”
I slammed the phone onto the passenger seat, my eyes burning with a rage I had never felt before. Marcus Vance had crossed the final line. He was attacking a child in my home.
I pulled into the industrial alley behind my warehouse at full speed. Thick black smoke was already billowing from the ground floor windows. A large yellow delivery van was parked outside, and four heavily armed mercenaries were guarding the perimeter.
I didn't stop. I accelerated, smashing my sedan directly into the side of the delivery van, crushing two of the guards between the vehicles in a violent crunch of metal and glass.
I threw my door open, firing dual pistols through the smoke. The remaining two guards went down before they could even raise their rifles.
I surged through the burning, smoke-filled ground floor, pulling a heavy fire extinguisher from the wall to clear a path through the flames toward the rear stairwell.
Upstairs, the heavy steel door of the safe room was surrounded by thick white smoke. Two mercenaries were using an industrial oxy-acetylene torch, sparks flying everywhere as they cut through the heavy steel hinges.
“Hey!” I roared through the smoke.
The two men spun around, but I was already upon them.
I slammed the heavy fire extinguisher into the chest of the first guard, throwing him down the flight of stairs. The second guard lunged with a combat knife, but I caught his wrist, twisted it until the bone snapped, and slammed his head into the steel door frame, dropping him cold.
I kicked the torch away and slammed my palm against the electronic keypad beside the door, punching in the emergency bypass code.
The heavy steel bolts slid back with a loud pneumatic hiss. The door swung open.
Inside, the room was thick with fear. Margaret was kneeling in the farthest corner, hugging Lily tightly against her chest, holding a heavy iron frying pan like a club. Lily was crying silently, her face buried in her grandmother’s neck.
When Margaret saw me standing in the doorway—covered in soot, blood dripping from a cut on my forehead, but alive—she let out a sob of pure relief.
“Vincent!”
I rushed inside, dropping to my knees beside them. “Are you hurt? Did anyone get inside?”
“No,” Margaret cried, touching my blood-stained cheek with her trembling hand. “The door held. Oh God, Vincent, you’re bleeding...”
“I’m fine,” I breathed, taking Lily into my arms. The tiny girl wrapped her small arms tightly around my neck, her body shivering violently.
“Mr. Vincent,” she whispered into my ear. “I was brave. Like you said.”
A lump formed in my throat so heavy I could barely swallow. I held her close, feeling her tiny heartbeat against my chest.
“You were so brave, Lily,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “You were incredible.”
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I stood up, holding Lily, and helped Margaret to her feet. The warehouse was burning, and Marcus’s main force would be arriving soon. We couldn't stay here anymore.
It was time to stop running. It was time to strike at the heart of the beast.
