Chapter 8 - Vengeance in the Rain
Julian dropped to the floor, hacking violently and clawing at his burning eyes. Thorne fired blindly into the smoke, his heavy rounds tearing through wooden desks and shattering computer monitors.
A shadow moved through the haze.
Dante lunged forward, striking Thorne’s gun hand with a brutal palm heel strike that sent the revolver skittering across the concrete. Thorne roared, using his immense bulk to tackle Dante through the glass partitioning wall into the outer rain.
Both men hit the muddy gravel outside. Thorne scrambled up first, drawing a serrated combat blade and slashing downward with blinding speed. Dante stepped inside the guard, catching Thorne’s wrist, but the sheer momentum forced him against the side of a rusted container.
""Twenty years I waited in that Philippine hellhole!"" Thorne snarled, spitting rain and blood into Dante's face as their muscles locked in a desperate struggle. ""You took my fleet! You took my life! Now I take everything that carries your name!""
Dante’s eyes remained dead cold. ""You made a mistake, Gabriel.""
""What mistake?"" Thorne sneered, putting all his weight behind the blade, the tip now hovering inches from Dante’s throat.
""You brought my boy into it.""
Dante suddenly released his grip on Thorne’s wrist, shifting his weight downward. The knife struck empty air, lodging deep into the corrugated steel container. In that split second, Dante drove a vicious short hook into Thorne's exposed ribs, shattering bone, followed by an open-palm blow to his jaw.
Thorne staggered backward into the puddles, gasping for air.
Dante drew a compact pistol from his waistband and fired twice into Thorne's knee joints. The hulking mercenary collapsed into the mud with an agonized roar, clutching his ruined legs.
Dante stood over him, rain streaming down his stern, blood-flecked face. He lowered the weapon, aiming squarely between Thorne’s eyes.
""Wait..."" Thorne wheezed, coughing up crimson foam. ""You shoot me... you never find her...""
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Dante's finger paused on the trigger. A chill colder than the rain swept through his chest. ""Find who?""
Thorne chuckled, a wet, rattling sound of pure malice. ""Leo’s mother. You thought she died in that clinic in Geneva six years ago, didn't you, Dante? Ask Amanda who signed the transfer papers.""
