Chapter 15 - The Trap Springs
The world went dead silent. The sound of the wind, the hum of the floodlights, the ache in my joints—everything vanished, replaced by a white-hot, blinding inferno of pure rage.
"You're lying," I said, my voice barely a whisper, but it carried across the vast steel hall like a razor blade.
"Call him!" Dominic taunted, throwing a burner phone down to the steel floor at my feet. "Call your loyal dog Victor! See who answers!"
I dropped to one knee, picked up the burner phone, and pressed speed dial.
The line rang twice.
A coarse, unfamiliar voice answered: "Farm is secured, boss. We got the woman, the two kids, and the old man. Heading to the Gary docks now."
My hand tightened around the plastic phone until the casing cracked.
Claire wasn't at the motel. She had refused to stay behind. When I left for the mill, she had driven south to meet Victor's transport to ensure the kids were safe—and she had walked straight into the ambush.
"You see, Adrian?" Dominic laughed from the catwalks, clutching his stomach in maniacal triumph. "You thought you were a master chess player! But you were just a retired fool dreaming of a peace that never existed!"
Dominic raised his hand, preparing to signal his shooters on the catwalks to open fire. "Kill him. Leave the body for the rats."
"DOMINIC!" I roared.
Before the shooters could squeeze their triggers, I reached into my tactical vest and slapped a palm-sized remote detonator.
BOOM!
Four plastic charges I had set beneath the main support pillars of the upper catwalk three minutes before stepping into the light exploded simultaneously.
The iron catwalk groaned violently under the blast, twisting like wet cardboard. Two of Dominic's shooters lost their footing, screaming as they fell forty feet to the concrete floor below.
The floodlights shattered, plunging the massive steel mill back into pitch darkness filled with blinding dust and flying iron shrapnel.
"Gah!" Dominic screamed as the catwalk tilted wildly, pinning his leg against the safety rail. "Kill him! KILL HIM!"
I didn't draw my guns. I moved through the falling dust like a predator born in the shadows.
I vaulted onto the lower iron ladder, ascending the ruined structure in seconds. A mercenary emerged through the smoke, raising his rifle; I grabbed the barrel, twisted it outward, breaking his wrist, and drove a hard elbow into his throat before hurling him over the ledge.
I stepped onto the fractured platform where Dominic was frantically trying to free his trapped leg.
The smoke cleared slightly. Dominic looked up, his one good eye widening in sheer terror as he saw me standing over him, covered in soot, my eyes devoid of any human mercy.
"Adrian... wait..." Dominic stammered, raising his hands, his voice trembling. "We can deal... the kids... I can order my men to let them go—"
I reached down, grabbed Dominic by his tactical collar, and hauled his entire weight off the twisted steel beam, suspending him over the forty-foot drop.
"Where at the docks?" I growled, my face inches from his scarred cheek.
"Pier 14!" Dominic gasped, choking for air. "Pier 14! The fish processing warehouse! Don't drop me, Adrian! Please!"
"I told you six years ago, Dominic," I whispered, my voice cold as the icy rain outside. "Ghosts don't stay buried. But corpses do."
May you like
I released his collar.
Dominic's scream cut through the empty expanse of the mill until it was abruptly silenced by the heavy, final thud against the concrete far below.
