Chapter 12 - A Contract Put Out on the Waitress
Julian moved before I could scream.
His hand dipped inside his leather jacket, drawing a suppressed automatic pistol with mechanical fluidity.
I threw myself backward behind the heavy marble pillar just as two silent rounds *thwip-thwip*ed through the air, gouging fist-sized chunks of antique plaster from the wall where my head had been half a second earlier.
"Dante!" I screamed, scrambling on hands and knees across the runner carpet toward the west wing. "Julian is the mole! The distillery is a trap!"
Alarms began to wail throughout the mansion, a deafening klaxon that turned the walls into strobing flashes of crimson emergency light.
From the foyer below, gunfire erupted—loud, violent, and messy. Dante’s roar tore through the chaos: "Drop your weapon, Julian!"
Another burst of automatic fire answered, followed by the sickening thud of a body hitting marble.
I didn't stop to look. I reached the end of the east corridor, kicked open the door to Gabriel’s private office, and slammed the heavy oak deadbolt into place.
My breath tore through my throat in ragged gasps. I was trembling so violently I could barely grip the encrypted phone. My fingers tapped frantic commands into the dialer, calling Gabriel’s direct satellite frequency.
*Ringing.*
*Ringing.*
"Pick up, Gabriel," I whispered, tears of terror burning my eyelids. "Please, God, pick up."
A heavy crash slammed against the outside of the office door.
The brass lock shuddered in its casing. Wood splinters flew across the Persian rug as a heavy steel breaching ram struck the center panel.
"Open the door, Miss Cole," Julian’s calm, terrifying voice echoed through the wood. "There's nowhere to run. Gabriel’s convoy just entered the perimeter of the Greenpoint yard. Even if you reach him, the detonation sequence is already initiated."
*Click.*
The line connected.
"Harper?" Gabriel’s voice crackled through the phone, sharp with tension, the background roaring with the sound of a roaring supercharged engine. "I told you to stay with Leo."
"Gabriel! Turn around!" I screamed into the receiver. "It's an ambush! The warehouse is rigged with explosives! Hayes set it up, and Julian is their inside man! He’s in the house right now—he shot Dante!"
Dead silence fell over the other end of the line. For two heartbeats, the only sound was the distant rumble of the storm.
"Repeat that," Gabriel commanded, his voice dropping into a register colder than absolute zero.
"Julian worked with Hayes from the start!" I wept, backing away from the cracking door toward the high leaded-glass windows overlooking the cliffs. "He fed you the Greenpoint address to draw you into a blast zone! Victoria is boarding a private jet at Teterboro Airport at 5:00 AM! Gabriel, you have to get out of there!"
Through the phone, I heard the screech of heavy tires locking up as Gabriel violently reversed his vehicle. A fraction of a second later, a massive, thunderous roar tore through the receiver—a detonation so cataclysmic that the audio distorted into pure static.
"Gabriel!" I screamed.
Static. Pure, deafening white noise.
The office door exploded inward.
The heavy oak shattered under the force of Julian’s tactical boot. He stepped over the splintered threshold, his weapon leveled at my chest, his face unreadable beneath the red emergency strobes.
"Impressive warning, Harper," Julian said quietly, taking a measured step forward. "Just like at the restaurant. Always the observant waitress. But warnings only delay the inevitable."
He raised the barrel directly between my eyes.
"Goodbye, Miss Cole."
Before his finger could depress the trigger, the large double-paned window behind him imploded in a shower of glittering, razor-sharp safety glass.
A shadow descended from the roof on a tactical wire, swinging directly through the opening like an avenging angel of death.
A heavy combat boot slammed straight into Julian’s jaw with bone-splintering force, throwing him across the room into the black walnut desk.
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Gabriel landed on the floor in a crouch, his trench coat torn and covered in gray soot, blood trickling from a shallow cut on his cheekbone, his obsidian eyes burning with unholy, terrifying wrath.
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