Chapter 6 - AMBUSH IN THE BASEMENT
Ethan stared at the dark barrel of Eleanor’s gun aimed directly at his chest.
His knuckles turned white as he gripped the heavy glass vase in his hands.
“Put it down, Ethan,” Eleanor said smoothly, taking a slow step toward him.
“You’re outmatched, and you know it.”
Ethan’s mind raced as he calculated his chances.
He knew that if he surrendered, neither he nor his daughter would survive the night.
He pretended to lower the vase slowly toward the floor.
“Why are you doing this, Eleanor?” Ethan asked, trying to keep her attention on him.
“Was everything between us a lie?”
Eleanor smiled faintly, her eyes showing not a single trace of warmth.
“You were a job, Ethan,” she whispered.
“A very lucrative job.”
As she spoke the last word, Ethan suddenly smashed the heavy glass vase against the wall switch.
Sparks flew wildly as the electrical housing shattered.
Eleanor instinctively flinched away from the sudden flash of bright blue sparks.
Ethan lunged forward with all his strength, slamming his shoulder directly into her chest.
The gun discharged into the ceiling with a deafening pop.
They both crashed heavily against the bedroom floor.
Ethan scrambled across the hardwood, kicking out with his leg and striking her wrist.
The silver pistol flew out of Eleanor’s hand, sliding under the heavy bed frame.
Eleanor snarled in frustration, grabbing Ethan’s jacket collar with surprising force.
She drove her elbow sharply into his ribs, forcing the air out of his lungs.
Ethan gasped for breath, but he rolled to the side and pushed himself up.
He didn't waste time trying to retrieve the gun.
He sprinted out of the guest room and bolted down the dark corridor toward the main exit.
He rushed past Marcus, who was lying unconscious on the living room floor with a bleeding head wound.
Ethan paused for a split second, checking Marcus’s neck for a pulse.
It was beating weak but steady.
“Hang on, brother,” Ethan muttered, promising to return.
Ethan sprinted out the front door and threw himself down the concrete emergency stairwell.
He took the stairs three at a time, his feet pounding loudly against the concrete steps.
Twelve floors down, Maria was struggling to carry the little girl through the dimly lit basement.
The cold air of the underground parking garage smelled strongly of gasoline and damp concrete.
Maria held the child close, her eyes searching frantically for the exit sign.
Suddenly, two dark figures stepped out from behind a concrete pillar.
They were dressed in tactical gear, carrying suppressed submachine guns.
“Stop right there,” one of the men commanded in a cold, heavy voice.
Maria froze, her blood turning to ice as she backed away slowly.
“Please... take whatever you want,” Maria begged, her voice trembling violently.
“Just don't hurt the child!”
The man raised his weapon, leveling it directly at Maria’s forehead.
“Orders are to clear the witness,” the guard said coldly.
The little girl hid her face in Maria’s neck and screamed.
Before the guard could pull the trigger, the violent roar of an engine shattered the basement silence.
A black SUV came speeding around the corner at high speed, its headlights blinding the two enforcers.
The vehicle smashed directly into the guard holding the gun, throwing him onto the hood.
The car screeched to a halt, and the driver’s side door flew open.
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A rough, deep voice bellowed from inside the vehicle:
“Get in! Right now!”
