Chapter 11 - The Marble Corridor
Bullets chewed through the ornate plaster and antique portraits lining the judicial corridor, raining white dust and splintered wood over Viktor as he threw himself behind a massive marble pillar. Marble fragments exploded like shrapnel against his vest.
""Suppressing fire!"" Marcus bellowed, stepping into the corridor with a drum-fed shotgun. The deafening roar of 12-gauge rounds tore through the mercenaries’ defensive line, forcing them backward down the hallway toward the grand rotunda.
Viktor advanced with cold, surgical precision. He stepped out from the pillar, firing three rapid shots. One contractor dropped with a bullet to the chest; another crumpled as a round shattered his knee. The remaining two retreated into the rotunda, pulling Sofia behind the massive oak double doors of the Chief Judge’s ceremonial courtroom.
The hallway fell quiet, save for the clicking of spent casings rolling across the polished marble floor and the low groans of the wounded mercenaries.
Viktor reloaded his weapon without breaking his stride. His boots clicked rhythmically against the stone, leaving bloody footprints in his wake.
""Check the exits,"" Viktor told Marcus quietly. ""No one leaves this room.""
""Boss,"" Marcus warned, pointing at the heavy oak doors. ""They’re barricaded inside. If we blow the door, they could execute a hostage or set off an explosive.""
""There are no hostages,"" Viktor said. ""Only a sister who forgot where she came from.""
He approached the door, his reflection warped in the polished brass handles. He raised his combat boot and kicked the center of the double doors with the full, explosive force of his frame. The heavy deadbolt tore free from the wooden frame with a violent crack, sending both doors swinging inward into the dim, wood-paneled courtroom.
Inside, Sofia stood in front of the judge’s bench. Her tailored designer suit was disheveled, her hair wildly undone, but her eyes blazed with a desperate, venomous defiance. Her two surviving guards lay dead on the steps of the bench, their bodies limp. Standing over them with a smoking pistol was Alexei, soaking wet, his clothes covered in river mud and engine grease.
Viktor froze, his gun leveled at Alexei's chest. ""You crawled out of the water just to die here?""
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Alexei’s hands were shaking violently, his pistol pointed directly at Sofia’s head. ""I didn't come here to save her, Viktor! She set me up! She told the docks to scuttle the boat with me on it!""
Sofia let out a cold, bitter laugh, looking at Viktor past Alexei’s trembling gun. ""Kill him, Viktor. Or let him kill me. Either way, you lose. The file is already uploading to every news syndicate and federal server on the continent. In ten minutes, the Rostov family is officially an international target.""
