Chapter 8
“If they get Lily, nothing we do matters!” Dante barked, shoving another fresh magazine into his pistol with practiced, mechanical speed. “They want the drive and they want the witnesses dead! Move them now, Julian! That is an executive order!”
Lily suddenly reached out from beneath the desk, her little fingers catching Dante’s wet wool sleeve just as he prepared to turn the corner. Her eyes were wide with fright, but she didn’t cry; she simply held up her one-eyed stuffed rabbit toward him.
“Take Barnaby, Mr. Dante,” she whispered through the roar of bullets punching through metal overhead. “He’s really brave when the thunder gets loud. He’ll make sure the bad men don’t hit your big muscles.”
Dante stared at the ragged, juice-stained toy, something cracking wide open inside his chest that years of syndicate violence had kept locked away. He took the rabbit, shoved it securely inside his inner coat pocket next to his heart, and looked into her eyes.
“I’ll keep Barnaby safe, Lily,” Dante said softly, his voice warmer than anyone had ever heard it. “Now go with Julian. When you get to the boat, wait for me. I promised you that you were safe, and I never break my word.”
Emma grabbed Lily, tears streaming down her pale cheeks as Julian kicked open the rotting wooden panel covering the low chute. “Dante, please... don't die for us,” Emma whispered desperately, her voice breaking against the howling wind.
“I’m not dying for you, Emma,” Dante replied, his eyes turning back toward the dark yard with lethal focus. “I’m killing for you. There is a very big difference. Now run before Marcus brings the heavy rifles around the perimeter.”
Julian hauled Emma and the girl into the black void of the chute just as a grenade detonated outside the locker entrance. The concussive blast blew the metal doors inward, showering the interior with sparks, burning debris, and choking black smoke.
Dante rolled behind a concrete pillar, his ears ringing from the detonation, but his hands remained as steady as steel vices. Through the swirling gray smoke, he saw three armed mercenaries in tactical gear advancing slowly, their weapon lights cutting through the darkness.
He rose from the shadows like an avenging ghost, firing three double-taps that dropped the lead two gunners before they could swing their barrels. The third man panicked, spraying blindly toward the ceiling, but Dante closed the distance, disarming him with brutal efficiency.