Chapter 13 - The Cold Strike|
Arthur’s security team instantly took aim at Silas, but before any of them could pull a trigger, the dark windows of the three perimeter hangars shattered simultaneously.
Phft! Phft! Phft!
Suppressed sniper fire rained down from the roofs of the surrounding buildings.
My father’s guards dropped like stone blocks into the slushy snow, six of them killed before they could even locate the source of the fire.
Arthur gasped, taking a terrified step backward toward his jet stairs as panic erupted across the tarmac.
Victor and Silas moved forward like wolves. Silas fired three rapid rounds, dropping the two guards flanking my father, then stepped onto the bottom stairs of the jet, cutting off Arthur's escape route.
My father fell backward onto the metal steps, his silver cane clattering against the icy grating, his face turning pale with absolute shock.
"Silas! Wait!" Arthur screamed, raising his gloved hands in surrender. "We can negotiate! I have eighty million in Swiss accounts! I can give you full control of the Boston docks! You and Clara can have everything!"
Silas stood over him, looking down at the man who had treated my life like currency for twenty-four years.
"I don't want your docks, Arthur," Silas whispered.
May you like
He reached down, grabbed my father by his cashmere lapels, and dragged him off the plane steps, throwing him onto the wet, freezing tarmac.
Inside the SUV, I watched through the window, my heart pounding in my chest as Silas dragged my father toward our vehicle.
