Chapter 43 - The Fratricide Protocol
The shockwave knocked Julian off his feet, his silver-tipped umbrella tumbling uselessly into the mud. The pristine charcoal wool coat was instantly ruined, soaked in the oil-stained puddles of the St. Jude Industrial Laundry Facility yard.
Dante advanced through the smoke, a wraith born of violence. His Heckler & Koch rifle was slung, but his sidearm moved with mechanical rhythm. He fired with ruthless, disciplined lethality, dropping three approaching contractors before they could shoulder their weapons.
Behind the concrete loading dock, Maya wrapped herself entirely around Sofia. The little girl, her face pale and dark curls plastered to her forehead, squeezed her eyes shut. She clutched Maya's soaked shirt, trembling violently.
"You're safe, little bird," Maya chanted over the deafening roar of automatic gunfire. "The bad men can't get us here. Papa is finishing it."
"Papa..." Sofia whimpered, her tiny voice cracking.
Julian scrambled backward across the wet gravel, screaming for his remaining snipers to open fire. But the darkness and the heavy rain rendered their optics useless against Dante's relentless advance. Marcus had already flanked the eastern perimeter, his carbine systematically neutralizing the elevated threats on the adjacent warehouse roofs.
Dante reached Julian. He kicked the silver detonator away and placed his heavy combat boot squarely on his younger brother's chest.
"You traded her," Dante growled, the icy calm in his voice more terrifying than any scream. "You traded my daughter's life for a seat at a table of corpses."
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"Dante, wait!" Julian pleaded, his sophisticated veneer completely shattered, exposing the coward beneath. "The federal agents are already en route! If you kill me, the DOJ will seize everything! The offshore accounts, the real estate, the entire Blackwood Corporation!"
Dante aimed the barrel of his SIG Sauer directly at Julian's forehead. "Let them."
