Chapter 7 - The Shadows Strike Back
Although Victor Hartman was arrested and Hartman Logistics was placed under federal receivership, the threat wasn't fully neutralized. Victor was a wealthy man with deep connections in the criminal underworld, and even behind bars, money can purchase vengeance.
Three weeks after the raid on Hartman Towers, I was living in a quiet, secluded safehouse outside Savannah, Georgia, waiting for the grand jury trial to commence. I had officially filed for an annulment and was working closely with federal prosecutors as a star witness.
One rainy evening, while preparing a quiet dinner, the power to the house suddenly went out.
The ambient hum of the refrigerator died. The darkness inside the house became absolute, save for the flashes of lightning outside.
I dropped my cooking knife, slipped my hand beneath the kitchen counter, and retrieved my secondary firearm. I didn't panic. The Marine within me had been fully awakened, and she wasn't going back to sleep anytime soon.
I heard the soft crunch of gravel outside the rear patio door.
Two shadows slipped through the broken glass door. They moved with discipline—professionals hired to silence me before I could testify.
"She’s in the kitchen," one whispered in a heavy Eastern European accent.
I didn't wait for them to find me. I initiated the attack.
I threw a heavy glass bowl across the room, shattering it against the far wall to draw their focus. As both mercenaries turned their weapons toward the sound, I burst from the shadows, striking the first man with a devastating combination of hand strikes to his kidney and throat. He dropped without making a sound.
The second mercenary fired wildly into the dark, his muzzle flashes illuminating the room in brief, blinding strobes. I dodged behind the marble island, lunged forward, grabbed his rifle barrel, and forced it upward. The bullets ripped through the ceiling. I drove my elbow into his solar plexus, followed by an arm bar that snapped his elbow joint with a horrific pop.
Within forty-five seconds, both assassins were neutralized on my floor.
I retrieved my phone and dialed Marcus.
"They sent a hit squad to Savannah," I said calmly.
May you like
"Are you hit?" Marcus asked, his voice filled with concern.
"No," I replied, looking down at the groaning hitmen. "But Victor Hartman just made a fatal mistake. He thinks I'm waiting for the law to protect me. It's time I take the fight directly to his syndicate."
