Chapter 6 – THE SHOT AND THE SHIELD

The deafening echo of the gunshot rolled through the abandoned shipping yard, leaving an absolute, paralyzing silence in its wake.

I stood frozen on top of the rusted shipping container, my arms trembling so violently I could barely hold the 9mm pistol aimed at the clearing below. I had never fired a gun in my life. The recoil had sent a jarring shockwave up my arms, but seeing Rebecca collapse against the SUV made my heart surge with a terrifying, protective adrenaline.

“Sniper! On the containers!” one of the mercenaries shouted, recovering from the initial shock.

Half a dozen assault rifles instantly swung upward, the red laser sights slicing through the morning fog, painting the rusted metal directly beneath my feet.

“Claire, get down!” Dominic roared from the clearing.

I threw myself flat onto the top of the metal container just as a hail of automatic gunfire chewed through the corrugated steel where I had been standing a fraction of a second earlier. Sparks showered over my head, the deafening noise drowning out my terrified scream.

Dominic didn’t freeze. The distraction I created was exactly the window he needed.

While the mercenaries were focused on the container, Dominic moved with blinding, lethal speed. He didn’t dive for cover. He drew a sleek combat knife from the small of his back and lunged directly into the chaos.

He grabbed the closest mercenary, using the man’s body as a human shield while simultaneously twisting the assault rifle from the thug’s hands.

Dominic opened fire, the heavy weapon roaring in his grip. Two mercenaries dropped instantly.

“Kill him!” Rebecca shrieked, clutching her bleeding shoulder from the ground.

The remaining sicarios turned their weapons back to Dominic, opening a chaotic firefight in the center of the clearing.

But Dominic wasn’t trying to win a shootout. He was fighting his way to his daughter.

He laid down a suppressing burst of fire, forcing the mercenaries to duck behind their SUVs, and sprinted through the mud toward Emma.

Emma was sobbing hysterically, paralyzed by fear, kneeling in the crossfire.

Dominic reached her, dropping the empty rifle and pulling her fiercely into his massive arms, shielding her entire body with his own. He grabbed the pocket knife from his belt and rapidly sliced the thick zip-ties from her wrists.

“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you,” Dominic shouted over the gunfire, pressing her face into his chest.

“Daddy, I’m scared!” Emma cried, burying her face in his jacket.

“We’re getting out of here right now,” Dominic promised.

He scooped her up in one arm, drawing his backup pistol with his free hand, and sprinted toward the narrow gap between two rusted shipping containers, seeking hard cover from the relentless gunfire.

From my position on top of the container, I peaked over the edge, terrified they had been hit.

I saw Dominic and Emma safely disappear into the labyrinth of rusted metal corridors, out of the direct line of sight of the SUVs.

“They went into the maze!” Rebecca yelled, stumbling to her feet, her white trench coat stained with blood. She picked up her dropped pistol. “Hunt them down! Do not let them leave this yard alive!”

The remaining eight mercenaries fanned out, moving methodically into the dark, narrow alleys between the towering stacks of shipping containers, hunting the mafia boss and his daughter.

I was trapped on the roof. If I moved, they would hear me on the hollow metal. If I stayed, they would eventually sweep the high ground.

I had to do something. I couldn’t let them corner Dominic and Emma.

I crawled slowly, painfully, across the roof of the container, moving toward the edge that overlooked the narrow alleyway Dominic had disappeared into.

I peered down into the gloom.

Two heavily armed mercenaries were advancing slowly down the corridor, their weapons raised, checking every shadow. They were moving directly toward the blind corner where I knew Dominic was hiding with Emma.

They had him pinned. If he stepped out, they would gun him down.

I looked frantically around the roof of my container. There were no loose objects, no rocks, nothing I could throw as a distraction.

Except for the heavy, rusted metal latch holding the roof access hatch closed.

I crawled to the latch and grabbed it with both hands. I pulled with all my strength. It was rusted solid. I gritted my teeth, ignoring the screaming pain in my bruised ribs, and yanked violently.

The heavy iron latch snapped off with a loud, metallic crack.

I grabbed the heavy chunk of iron and crawled back to the edge overlooking the mercenaries.

I didn’t aim for their heads. I aimed for the muddy ground directly behind them.

I threw the iron latch.

It struck an empty oil drum in the alleyway with a deafening, echoing CLANG.

The two mercenaries instantly spun around, raising their rifles toward the noise behind them, completely exposing their backs to the blind corner.

Dominic didn’t hesitate. He stepped out from the shadows, his pistol raised.

Two precise, suppressed shots echoed in the narrow corridor. Both mercenaries collapsed into the mud, neutralized instantly.

Dominic looked up at the roof of the container, his dark eyes finding mine in the gloom. He offered a single, fierce nod of profound gratitude.

He gestured for me to climb down.

I scrambled to the edge, lowering myself down the rusted ladder bolted to the side of the container, dropping into the mud beside them.

“Claire!” Emma cried, rushing forward and throwing her arms around my waist.

“I’m here, sweetie,” I whispered, hugging her tightly, tears of relief welling in my eyes. “You’re safe.”

“We’re not safe yet,” Dominic said grimly, picking up one of the dropped assault rifles from the fallen mercenaries and checking the magazine. “There are still six men out there, plus Rebecca. They’ve locked the main gates by now. We’re boxed in.”

“How do we get out?” I panicked, holding Emma close.

Dominic looked around the rusted, labyrinthine shipping yard. His eyes narrowed, a brilliant, terrifying tactical calculation forming in his mind.

“We don’t go out the gates,” Dominic said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “We go through the water.”

He pointed to the far edge of the shipping yard, where the rusted containers ended at the murky, polluted edge of the Chicago River canal.

“There’s an old maintenance barge moored at the end of this corridor,” Dominic explained rapidly. “If we can get to it, we can drift downriver until we reach the city limits. But they have the high ground covered.”

“We need a massive distraction,” I said, understanding the grim reality.

Dominic looked at the towering stack of rusted shipping containers directly across from us. A heavy, industrial crane loomed above them, its massive steel hook dangling precariously over the stack.

“I need you to take Emma to the barge, Claire,” Dominic commanded softly, his dark eyes locking onto mine with absolute, unyielding trust. “Hide in the cabin. Do not come out until I tell you.”

“What are you going to do?” I asked, terrified he was going to sacrifice himself.

Dominic offered a cold, ruthless smile that sent a shiver down my spine.

“I’m going to drop a thirty-ton shipping container on their heads,” Dominic stated.

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