Chapter 8 - The Price of Blood
The heat from the burning wreck was scorching against Damian’s face. Rain turned to sizzling vapor on his skin. Behind him, Sophia had already chambered a fresh magazine, her eyes locked on Viktor’s towering figure across the bridge.
""We don't negotiate with butchers,"" Sophia muttered under her breath.
""He doesn't want a negotiation,"" Damian said, wiping soot from his eyes. ""He wants to bait us into expending our ammunition.""
Damian reached into his tactical vest, pulling out a remote detonator. Mateo looked at it, his eyes widening.
""Boss... is that the emergency charges?"" Mateo asked, coughing through the acrid smoke.
""Father wired the old bridge twenty years ago during the syndicate wars,"" Damian said coldly. ""He never trusted anyone, not even his own allies.""
Damian keyed the encrypted radio, his voice steady as he spoke to Elena inside the car. ""Elena, hold the child tight. We're reversing down the gorge trail.""
""Damian, wait,"" Elena’s voice came back through the radio, strained but fiercely determined. ""Look at Kozlov's right flank. He’s not watching us. He’s watching the ridge.""
Damian squinted through the smoke. High above on the tree-covered ridge overlooking the bridge, the red reticles of half a dozen laser sights flickered through the rain. They weren't pointed at Damian's team.
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They were targeted directly at Viktor Kozlov’s chest.
A sudden, thunderous crack echoed from the cliffs above, and Kozlov's second-in-command collapsed instantly, a clean hole through his helmet.
