Chapter 7 - The Confrontation
The commercial kitchen in the basement of the Mercer estate was a silent forest of stainless steel prep tables, industrial stoves, and towering walk-in refrigerators.
Elena slid across the wet tile floor, guiding Noah and Eli behind the massive silver bulkhead of the main freezer.
Her heart was pounding so violently she could hear the blood roaring in her ears. From the other side of the basement, the sound of gun battles echoed through the foundation—sharp, violent bursts of automatic fire followed by the heavy, authoritative thud of Cole’s high-caliber pistol.
*He’s still alive,* Elena prayed silently, her fingernails digging into the palm of her hand. *Please God, keep him alive.*
She knelt beside the narrow gap between the back of the walk-in freezer and the rough stone wall. Just as Cole had described, there was a square galvanized steel ventilation grate, roughly eighteen inches wide, leading into the old carriage tunnels.
Elena grabbed a heavy stainless steel meat tenderizer from the magnetic strip on the prep table and jammed the handle into the edge of the grate, prying with all her strength.
With a screech of tearing metal, the screws gave way. The vent popped open, revealing a dark, dusty shaft that sloped gently upward toward the surface.
“Okay,” Elena breathed, turning to the boys. “Eli, baby, you first. Crawl all the way to the end until you see the iron grate with the grass. Don’t push it open until Mommy tells you to.”
Eli looked into the dark hole, his lower lip trembling. “It’s scary, Mommy.”
Noah stepped forward. He took Eli’s small hand in his. “I’ll go first,” Noah said, his voice surprisingly steady despite his pale face. “I’m bigger. I’ll make sure there are no spiders.”
Eli looked up at his friend, wiped his nose on his sleeve, and nodded. “Okay. But hold my dinosaur.”
Noah tucked the green dinosaur into his pocket and dropped to his knees, crawling into the narrow metal tunnel. Eli followed right behind him, his sneakers scraping against the galvanized tin.
“Elena.”
The voice was right behind her.
Elena froze. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end.
She turned slowly, rising to her feet with the heavy steel meat tenderizer still clutched in her right hand.
Daniel Cross stepped out from behind the stainless steel dishwashing station.
His face was a ruined mask of blood and rage. The left side of his jaw was bruised black and purple from Cole slamming the nursery door into him, and blood had crusted across his expensive silk shirt. In his right hand, he held a sleek European automatic pistol, leveled directly at Elena’s chest.
“Where is the drive, Elena?” Daniel asked, his voice shaking with suppressed fury. His eyes darted to the open ventilation shaft. “Did you give it to the brats?”
“They’re children, Daniel,” Elena said, her voice remarkably calm despite the terror freezing her veins. She took a half-step to her left, deliberately blocking the opening of the vent with her body. “You were Noah’s godfather. Claire trusted you.”
“Claire was an arrogant bitch who thought a badge made her untouchable!” Daniel snarled, taking a threatening step forward. “She was going to destroy everything! The Morettis offered us forty million dollars to run the docks! Forty million! And Claire wanted Cole to turn state's evidence and play house in Connecticut! She had to die!”
“And you killed her,” Elena said, keeping his eyes locked onto hers, praying that the boys were crawling fast enough. “You cut her brakes.”
“I did what had to be done!” Daniel shouted, his composure completely shattering. “And now Cole is cornered in the boiler room with three of my men! He’s finished! This whole empire belongs to the Morettis now, and they pay me my cut tomorrow morning! Give me the drive, Elena, or I’ll shoot you through the heart and drag those two little bastards out of that pipe by their ankles!”
Daniel raised the pistol, his finger tightening on the trigger.
Elena didn’t beg. She didn't cry.
With a roar born of pure, unadulterated maternal fury, Elena hurled the heavy steel meat tenderizer straight at Daniel’s head.
Daniel flinched, ducking his head to the side. The steel tool caught him across the temple with a sickening thud, splitting his brow open and sending him stumbling back against a stack of metal sheet pans. The pans crashed to the floor with an ear-splitting clatter.
His gun went off, the bullet sparking wildly off the stainless steel counter inches from Elena’s shoulder.
Elena charged him.
She didn't know how to fight, but she knew how to hurt. She slammed into him with the full weight of her body, driving her thumbs toward his eyes. Daniel roared in agony, dropping the pistol as he grabbed her by the throat with his heavy hands, slamming her back against the prep table.
The air rushed out of Elena’s lungs. Spots danced before her eyes. Daniel’s bloody, manic face loomed over her, his thumbs digging into her windpipe.
“You stupid, worthless maid,” Daniel spat, his breath hot and metallic against her face. “You should have stayed in Newark cleaning toilets!”
Elena clawed at his wrists, her vision turning gray at the edges. She couldn't breathe. Her lungs were burning.
*Eli... Noah... run...*
*BANG.*
The gunshot was so close, so concussive, that Elena felt the shockwave rip through the air.
Daniel’s grip went limp instantly.
His eyes widened in shock, staring past Elena’s shoulder. A tiny, dark red hole appeared in the center of Daniel’s forehead, followed by a plume of smoke.
Daniel collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut, falling heavily to the wet tile floor.
Elena slumped against the counter, coughing violently, drawing in ragged, burning gasps of air.
Through her watering eyes, she looked toward the kitchen doorway.
Cole Mercer stood there.
His white shirt was torn to ribbons, soaked in dark crimson from multiple wounds. His breathing was labored, his face covered in soot and blood. His gun was still raised, the barrel smoking in the dim fluorescent light.
He looked like a man who had climbed straight out of the underworld.
Cole lowered the gun. He staggered forward two steps, his knees buckling.
Elena caught him before he hit the floor.
She wrapped her arms around his chest, staggering under his immense weight, lowering them both gently against the stainless steel cabinets.
“Cole,” Elena cried, her hands pressing against the wound in his shoulder, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. “Cole, stay with me! Look at me!”
Cole’s gray eyes flickered open. He looked up at her, his bloody hand reaching up to touch her cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that fell from her eyelashes.
“The boys...” Cole whispered, his voice fading. “Are the boys safe?”
“They’re in the tunnel,” Elena sobbed, holding his hand against her face. “They’re safe, Cole. You did it. They’re safe.”
Cole let out a long, shuddering sigh, his head falling back against the cabinet. A faint, peaceful smile crossed his bloodied lips.
“Good,” he murmured into the dark. “Claire... would have liked you.”
May you like
And then his eyes closed.
***
