Chapter 9 - The Devil's bargain
Silas reached into his vest, pulling a small silver detonator from his pocket. He caught Clara’s eye through the smoke and held up three fingers.
Three seconds.
Clara nodded, her heart hammering violently against her ribs. She dug her heels into the concrete, preparing to sprint.
Silas pressed the switch.
A line of shaped charges along the eastern wall exploded outward, blowing an entire section of corrugated iron into the dark waters of the bay. The concussive shockwave flipped Marcus’s armored vehicle onto its side, cutting off the machine-gun fire amidst screams of metal and burning gasoline.
"Move!" Silas roared, lunging forward, grabbing Clara’s arm, and hauling her toward the smoking breach in the wall.
Marcus crawled out from the overturned truck, his face burned, dragging a sidearm. "Shoot them!" he screamed to his surviving men.
Bullets clipped the water around them as Silas and Clara leaped from the warehouse ledge directly into the freezing current of the bay.
The shock of the black water was instant, stealing Clara’s breath. Silas pulled her under, swimming beneath the docks through the labyrinth of wooden pylons where the gunmen’s thermal optics couldn't penetrate the cold surface layer.
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When they broke the surface beneath an abandoned sewer outlet three hundred yards away, Clara gasped for air, her teeth chattering so hard she couldn't speak.
Silas hauled her onto the slimy stone ledge, coughing up salt water. He looked back toward the burning warehouse. "We can't run anymore," he said, his eyes burning with cold rage. "To stay alive, we have to burn down the House of Moretti."
