Chapter 6 - The Broken Fortress
Before Vincent could lift Elena from the bed, the screeching sound of heavy tires echoed through the courtyard below, followed immediately by the shattering of glass and a volley of automatic gunfire.
TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!
The building shook as heavy rounds ripped through the concrete walls of the lower floor.
"Vincent!" Trent’s voice roared over the tactical earpiece. "Marcus’s men just rammed the front lobby doors with an armored truck! They’re inside! They’re shooting at anything that moves!"
Vincent grabbed a thick wool blanket from the bed, wrapping it securely around Elena’s shoulders. He lifted her easily into his arms, holding her tight against his chest as he stepped out into the dark, smoke-filled hallway.
"Trent, fall back to the central stairwell!" Vincent ordered into his mic. "We’re coming down! Prepare to breach the rear exit!"
Alarms began to wail through the building as backup generators kicked in, bathing the corridor in a harsh, rotating red emergency light.
Vincent moved down the hallway with terrifying speed despite carrying Elena. As he reached the second-floor landing, three of Marcus’s young, heavily tattooed club loyalists rushed around the corner, holding automatic shotguns.
"There he is!" one yelled, raising his weapon.
Before the shooter could squeeze the trigger, Vincent pivoted behind a heavy marble pillar, pulled his sidearm with his free hand, and fired three precise shots.
The rounds struck the weapons directly out of the men's hands, shattering the steel receivers and sending the shooters tumbling backward onto the floor, screaming in shock and pain.
Vincent didn't stop. He kicked through the double fire doors at the end of the corridor, bursting into the central courtyard loading dock where Trent and Marco were exchanging fire with Marcus’s main force.
The rain was coming down in torrents, turning the concrete loading bay into a slick, bloody battlefield.
Through the red emergency lights and rising smoke, Vincent saw Marcus standing on the roof of an overturned transport van, holding a heavy assault rifle, his face smeared with rain and grease, looking like a madman.
"Stallone!" Marcus screamed above the roar of the rain and gunfire. "You can't have her! She belongs to me! Everything belongs to me!"
Marcus aimed his rifle directly at Vincent and Elena.
"Down!" Vincent roared, throwing his body over Elena, shielding her fully on the concrete floor as a hail of bullets shattered the brick wall behind them, showering them with dust and debris.
"Cover the boss!" Trent yelled, stepping into the open and firing a continuous barrage from his submachine gun toward the roof of the van, forcing Marcus to dive back into the shadows.
Vincent stood up, his face grim, his eyes locked onto the ladder leading up to the roof overhang where Marcus was hiding. He set Elena safely behind a reinforced steel loading crate beside Marco.
"Keep her safe, Marco," Vincent commanded, his voice cold enough to freeze water. "Do not leave this spot."
"What are you going to do, Vincent?" Marco asked anxiously.
Vincent picked up a heavy tactical shotgun from a fallen guard on the floor. He didn't answer. He simply turned and walked straight out into the open courtyard, fully exposed to the storm and the remaining shooters.
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He looked up at the roof where Marcus was scrambling to reload his magazine.
"Marcus!" Vincent’s voice thundered across the courtyard, loud enough to cut through the storm, the alarms, and the crackle of gunfire. "Come down here and face me like a man, or die on that roof like a coward!"
