Chapter 5 - Blood on the Coldwater Shore
"Fire!" Victor screamed in the dark.
Automatic gunfire instantly erupted from the catwalk, muzzle flashes strobing through the pitch-black foundry like frantic lightning strikes. Bullets pinged violently against the steel pillars, showering sparks onto the concrete floor below.
"Take the gantry!" Marcus roared, leading six Mercer loyalists up the iron spiral stairs on the left flank, their silenced weapons spitting lethal bursts of fire into the darkness.
Adrian didn't run for cover. He moved through the shadows with the terrifying, instinctual precision of a predator who had owned these woods for twenty years.
He ducked behind a massive bronze smelting furnace as a Moretti gunman rushed past, spraying blind fire into the gloom. Adrian stepped out behind him, grabbed the man by his tactical vest, and drove a five-inch combat blade directly through his collarbone, dropping him without a sound.
Adrian snatched the fallen soldier’s assault rifle, clicked the selector switch to full automatic, and spun around.
On the upper catwalk, Victor was frantically trying to untie the ropes securing Emily, intending to use her as a human shield to reach his escape vehicle on the rear platform.
"Move!" Victor screamed at her, striking Emily across the face with the barrel of his gun. "Get up, you bitch!"
Emily cried out in pain, her body collapsing against the cold iron grate of the catwalk.
Adrian saw the strike from below.
A white-hot, volcanic rage exploded behind his eyes—a fury he hadn't felt in his entire adult life.
Adrian leaped onto a stack of wooden shipping crates, hauled himself onto the lower support beam, and swung himself up onto the gantry level with terrifying speed.
A Moretti guard turned, raising his weapon, but Adrian shoved the barrel of his rifle into the man’s chest and pulled the trigger three times. The guard was blown backward over the safety railing, falling thirty feet to the hard concrete below.
Victor turned, his face pale with horror, as Adrian stepped out of the smoke, his black sweater covered in dust and blood, his grey eyes burning like phosphorus.
"Adrian!" Victor panicked, raising his pistol.
BANG!
Adrian didn't hesitate. He shot Victor directly through his right shoulder.
The heavy impact shattered Victor’s collarbone, sending his weapon spinning over the edge of the catwalk. Victor let out a horrific shriek of agony, staggering backward against the iron wall, clutching his bleeding arm, his eyes wide with pathetic, helpless terror.
"Please!" Victor begged, dropping to his knees on the grate as Adrian approached slowly, his boots echoing with the heavy, rhythmic beat of an executioner. "Adrian! We were brothers! Remember Boston?! Remember what we built?!"
Adrian reached out, grabbed Victor by the throat with his bare left hand, and lifted the six-foot enforcer off his feet, slamming him hard against the steel pillar.
Victor gagged, his boots kicking uselessly in the air, his blood soaking Adrian’s arm.
"Brothers don't touch children," Adrian whispered, his face inches from Victor’s trembling, tear-streaked face. "Brothers don't hurt helpless women under my roof. You didn't just betray me, Victor. You brought war into my home."
Adrian didn't pull his trigger.
Instead, he turned his head toward Marcus, who had just cleared the last Moretti guard on the stairs.
"Marcus," Adrian ordered flatly.
"Sir?"
"Take him down to the salt cellars beneath the estate," Adrian commanded, dropping Victor like a sack of wet garbage onto the floor. "He stays alive until I decide what his legacy will be."
Marcus grabbed Victor by his hair, dragging him away as the disgraced lieutenant sobbed and pleaded for mercy that was never going to come.
Adrian walked past them, kneeling beside Emily on the cold iron catwalk.
He pulled a small tactical knife from his belt and sliced through the heavy zip-ties around her wrists and ankles with gentle, surgical precision.
"Mr. Mercer..." Emily gasped, her body collapsing forward into his arms. She was shaking so hard she couldn't stand, her fingers clutching his bloody sweater. "Lily... is Lily really..."
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Adrian wrapped his heavy arms around her, lifting her gently into his chest as if she weighed nothing at all.
"She’s safe, Emily," Adrian whispered softly against her ear, holding her securely as he walked down the iron stairs toward the waiting vehicles outside. "She’s waiting for you at the house. And no one will ever touch either of you again."
