Chapter 10 - The Rage of a Mother
The air in the hallway seemed to freeze.
The sound of gunfire echoing from the stairwell felt miles away. The only thing that existed was the barrel of Vanessa’s revolver, leveled directly at Emily’s protruding stomach.
"Vanessa," Emily’s voice trembled, but she didn't step back. She stood tall in the center of the freight elevator, her chin raised, her hands resting over her unborn child. "Leave them out of this. Claire and Dr. Chen have nothing to do with our families. If you want someone to pay for your father’s arrest, shoot me."
"Oh, don't worry, darling," Vanessa purred, taking two slow, deliberate steps forward, her boots crunching over broken glass from a shattered light fixture. "I am going to shoot you. But first, I want you to watch your pathetic little schoolteacher die."
Vanessa shifted the gun toward Michael’s face.
Michael didn't flinch. He didn't drop his Glock. He raised the weapon, his arms shaking violently, his teeth bared in pure defiance. "You touch her, and you die in this hallway."
Vanessa laughed—a high-pitched, hysterical sound that echoed off the tiled walls. "You think you can pull that trigger, schoolboy? You've never seen blood in your life! You spend your days correcting grammar!"
She cocked the hammer of the .38.
The mechanical *CLICK* was the loudest sound in the universe.
I didn't think. There was no calculation, no fear for my own safety, no consideration of my paycheck or my mother’s property taxes. All I saw was an innocent girl carrying a baby who had already been robbed of her mother, about to lose everything to a monster.
I grabbed the heavy metal corner of the industrial laundry cart beside me and slammed all my weight against it.
The six-hundred-pound steel cart rolled forward across the slick floor, crashing directly into Vanessa’s legs.
"Aaargh!"
Vanessa shrieked in pain as the heavy metal bumper struck her shins, knocking her off balance. Her gun went off—the bullet ricocheting harmlessly off the concrete ceiling, raining plaster dust down on our heads.
"Michael, shoot!" Emily screamed.
Michael pulled the trigger.
*BANG.*
The recoil jerked Michael’s arms upward, the bullet tearing through Vanessa’s leather jacket at the shoulder. Vanessa screamed, dropping the revolver, stumbling backward against the wall.
Before she could recover, I lunged forward.
I didn't know how to fight like a mafia enforcer, but I had grown up with three older brothers in a blue-collar neighborhood in Gary. I drove my fist directly into Vanessa Bellini’s nose.
The crunch of cartilage was sickeningly satisfying.
Vanessa’s head snapped back against the wall, blood exploding from her nostrils. She slid down the tiles, clutching her face, sobbing in agony.
"Get in the elevator!" I yelled, grabbing Michael’s arm and dragging him inside.
Dr. Chen slammed the emergency close button. The heavy metal doors began to slide shut.
Through the closing gap, Vanessa looked up, her blood-streaked face contorted into pure, demonic hatred. She lunged forward on her hands and knees, reaching for the dropped revolver.
"I will kill you all!" Vanessa shrieked, her voice muffled by blood. "I will burn this entire city down!"
Her hand touched the handle of the gun.
She raised it toward the narrow six-inch opening remaining between the elevator doors.
Suddenly, a heavy black leather boot stepped directly onto Vanessa’s wrist, crushing her bones against the concrete floor.
Vanessa howled in agony.
Standing over her, his face streaked with soot and blood, his dark overcoat torn at the shoulder, was Luca Moretti.
Luca didn't look down at Vanessa. He looked through the closing gap of the elevator doors, his piercing gray eyes locking onto his daughter.
"Go," Luca commanded through the gap. "Marco is waiting at the riverwalk."
"Dad!" Emily cried out as the doors sealed shut with a heavy, final *THUD*.
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The hydraulic cables hummed, and the freight elevator began its descent into the dark, protective depths of the subterranean tunnels.
***
